And my favorite post of all-time...NFL players draw God

I drew these pics and this article really never got linked anywhere because people were scared to piss off the God people. It isn't a joke about God, well...you'll see.

Holiday Gift Ideas: Books by Sports Personalities

It’s the Holiday season and I’m sure that some of you are searching for the perfect gift for that special sports lover in your family. Well, I’m here to help. I just happen to have a list of sports books that have come out during the past year that’ll be sure to fill the gaping hole (that beer and a hours of therapy obviously can‘t) of any sports fan on your holiday shopping list this season. Whether it’s a hardcore college football fan, or that Timberwolves fan that you just can’t seem to talk off the roof, there is a book on this list for fans of all shapes and sizes.*

Jesus Help Me…Literally by Charlie Weis

We almost won! The Herm Edwards Story by Herm Edwards

Beautiful Blondes and The Damned Cowboys by Tony Romo

Tuesdays with Marbury by Mike D’Antoni

The Sun Also Sets by Steve Nash

Oh SNAP! by Joe Theismann and Lawrence Taylor

Applebees be Dangerous as Shit These Days by Plaxico Burress

Limping to Perfection by Tom Brady

I’d Sooner be in Oklahoma than living with the Lions by 2008 Heisman Winner Sam Bradford

The Drinkest Drank in Drunktown (or Hooters) by John Daly

A Farewell to Labrums by Dusty Baker

The Never Ending Story of Boredom - PS, I Secretly Hate the Red Sox by Joe Buck

How to Survive an NFL Career with a body made from Cheap Taiwanese Glass by Steve McNair

Cheeseburgers, Milkshakes, Double Deep Fried Pudding Pops and 160 million dollars - The CC Sabathia Diet

Growing up in the Lollipop Guild by Dustin Pedrioa

I just won’t f@%*ing die and 100 other ways I’m just like Dracula by Raider Owner Al Davis

How to Lose Friends and Alienate Fanbases by Brett Favre

Where am I, Joe? by Troy Aikman

Floundering in the NBA by Tyler Hansbrough

All the King’s Horses and All the King’s men are moving to New York Soon by Lebron James

Ordinary People…who Date Madonna by Alex Rodriguez

A Life of Being Paid in Reality Checks by Manny Ramirez


I’m still here and I still play for the Spurs by Tim Duncan

Actually, I do hate you Cub Fans by God (first book was NY Times best seller of the Millennia)

Flagged, Paper Bagged and Tagged as the Worst of All-Time by The 2009 Detroit Lions

Zen and the Art of Flopping by Manu Ginobli

There may be a God, Detroit by Barry Sanders Jr.

Fear and Loathing in the Closet of Vogue Magazine by promiscuity policeman Sean Avery

Atlas Shrugged…So I Punched Him in the Face by Steve Smith

The 6 Dollar Man (And Still Overpriced) by Adam Morrison

How to Strike Out Without Really Trying by whiff-master Ryan Howard

3 Drop Steps to Being Unsuccessful by Rex Grossman

The Story of the SEC: Speed + Experience = Championships

I have no F@*%ing Clue What I’m Talking About by Tony Kornheiser

Hines Wald: Numbell One Smaltest Leceiver by Hines Wald

Woooooooooo: The Life and Times of The Nature Boy by Rick Flair

You Gonna Eat That? by Eddy Curry

The Story of Me and Me and Me and Me and Me and Me and finally, Me by more than a dozen Hershel Walkers

Hi, Welcome to McDonald’s, Would You like to Try a Detached Retina? by Kimbo Slice

Not So Great Expectations by Padre Pitcher Jake Peavy

The Bell Keeps Tolling, Yet Somehow I’m Still Here by Bengal Coach Marvin Lewis

2008: A Suck Odyssey by former Lions GM Matt Millen

Catch 23 by Cleveland Cavaliers Owner Dan Gilbert

People at IHOP F@*%ing Hate Me by Michael Phelps

Welcome to the Intensive Care Unit Mr. Green by Trent Green

Screw the Recession! How much do you want? by Yankee Owner Hank Steinbrenner

How to Piss Off Everyone Gambling on Today’s Game by NFL ref Ed Hockuli

Oh-Hell-I’m-Overmatched by Every Player Ever from Ohio State

I’m so bored now, I could choke somebody - Bobby Knight with a forward by Latrell Sprewell

The Secret…CHEATING by Bill Belichick

* Except for soccer. Soccer is not actually a sport and is considered a wildly inappropriate activity to people with attention spans, athletic ability and the men who don’t enjoy being bored to death by other men running around like Liberace at a sequin factory.

Is there one that I missed? Leave it in the comment section below…

Oh and the podcasts

The podcasts can be found here The Douche Report. I write them all myself and one can plainly see that I sometimes do not have the time or help needed to make them. The first one is good and the 5th episode has the best jokes, but I obviously needed someone else to riff off of some weeks. It was much more difficult than I imagined to sit in a room by myself and try and be funny. Without an audience, you just start to think you're a crazy person.

Maya Angelou’s predictions for the 2009-10 NFL Season

As most of you know, Maya Angelou and I tend run in the same circles. We are both North Carolina poets and wordsmiths. We are both held in the highest regards by other esteemed writers and laureates from throughout this great country. From the President of the United States all the way down to the drunken hobos that live behind the Sunoco down the street from my house.

In order to fully prepare for the upcoming NFL season, I asked her to write a few words about the fate of a few of the teams. And here, you lucky Lampoon readers, are her predictions for the 2009-10 NFL Season,

The Cowboys


Romo-thou art not a homo

Fumbulicious, maybe still

Play-offs still haunt your dreams

No longer necessary on special teams

But a man in shining blue stars

Who holds all the cards

Of fortune,

is surely sheriff

A billion green faces have lain

Before you an exquisite new home

Where Buffalo need not roam

As long as T.O. catches in their town

The Jones of Jerry; Master of Cowboys

Has built a cathedral of success

For America’s team

The American Dream

Like blondes with high beams

A subject you know something about

Wrangle up some wins Tony R.

In the play-offs, you must ride far

Or next year at this time

You will be washing my car


The Jets


Jets, the Jets; soaring through the clouds

Hopes and dreams on the wings of Favre

Have come careening to the ground

Alas, a new pilot this season will fly

Ready to pull back the throttle

And rise higher and higher into the sky

Fans line-up to for the chance to see

On the runway, as the green Jets taxi

The people rise, rise and crowd the airport gate

Sadly, they will still finish worse than 8 and 8.


The Bears


Chicago cold and windy

The lake stares briskly at you

Orton traveled to Denver

And so, the offense is born anew

The defense is like poetry

At the helm a man, Urlacher

As blanketing as a new fallen snow

The qb he will surely sack her

Traps for Bears don’t often succeed

But they often catch the Cubbies

So Chicago puts it hopes and dreams

On the shoulders of a man named Lovie


The Vikings


Brett Favre, Brett Favre

The people of Minnesota

Are starved, for a ring

Put on your majestic purple Four

And helmet—which proudly adorns

Those alabaster and unbreakable horns

And lead your men to battle

Greeen Bay shakes its death rattle

As new fans will help you mount the saddle

Because a championship ring is in their conception

The ball floats higher and higher and higher

Interception


The Panthers


Roaming in the fields of the Carolinas

Panthers, majestic, proud and black

Basking in a harvest of blue Peppers

Where Carolinians pick up there sacks

Alas, the Peppers have gone sour

And it ruins the farmer’s lunch

For he hath provided the defense

And Smith hath provided the punch

If Peppers does not return to Charlotte fields

Leaving all opponents--free to roam

Panthers of Carolina have dug their grave

Where mediocrity will call surely call Delhomme


The Bucs


Once, proud pirates on the seas of seven

Buccaneers be not proud, furthermore

Their ship had begun taking on water

Cadillac is on cinderblocks

in the front yard

Cannons lay silent

The boat is taking on water

This isn't even worth it

You suck.


The Patriots


Patriots, oh Patriots,

Where have thou gone?

Once a team of outrageous dexterity

Has put down their muskets of age

A man of steel has been laid to turf

His injured leg hath felt the dirt

And the steel of scalpel upon his knee

Had set his opponents,

Who had longed to be free

Freedom! They exclaimed

As the war carried on

Red, white and blue still fought at dawn

Patriots forever, no matter the case

As linebackers grew old

And victory,

They no longer could taste

But, out of a deep musty fog

your General has risen

So pick up your muskets

And release yourself from prison

He is the One to ease your worried pains

For he is the Man that moves your chains

Augusta National puts the "Child" Back in Cild Labor

The azaleas are blooming. The air warms as it floats through the trees. The grass is starting to become that shade of green that only seems possible in postcards. And of course, the economy is still a toxic wasteland of shit. That can only mean one thing: Spring has sprung in Georgia. And every year at this time, the world’s most important golf tournament takes place at the world’s most prestigious golf course, Augusta National.

I am of course speaking of the much fabled Masters Tournament, held every April in Augusta, Georgia. Augusta National: Home course to the uber-elite of American businessmen and golfers alike. With a membership that boasts both Warren Buffett and Bill Gates, it’s obvious that only the wealthiest of the wealthy will ever get the chance to lace up their spikes and play a round on the most storied golf course this side of St. Andrews.

However, even with an abundance of class and wealth, the Masters Tournament is still feeling the icy grip of the current recession. And so without giving it second thought, the club decided to trim the cost of hosting such an extravagant event and revert back to the golden years of American industry. When OSHA was the Cajun word for where the water met the sand, Rockefellers were the richest fellers, and nine year olds spent 12 hours a day deep in the coal mines, precisely where they all belonged.

And with that in mind, they simply fired all their caddies and replaced them with child labor. Lines of children ranging from age 2 to 11, wearing bright white cover-alls emblazoned with the name of their golfer on their back, lined the cart path around Eisenhower Cabin; they all stood quietly as some spit shined shoes, others washed balls and a select few juggled the task of keeping golfer Vijay Singh from being a complete and utter douchebag, while also wrestling a cart of chocolate eclairs away from Craig Stadler, in a scene that the 34th president himself would have been proud of.



“Are those Nike Zooms?” one child asks in a nasally pre-pubescent voice, “Hey, I made those!” Roughly 85 children from all over the United States were going to bypass school and carry bags on the 7,400 yard course today. When asked why they so desperately needed the work, one of the younger caddies remarked, “Hey in this economy a job’s a job. This ain’t a bad gig. I got brother in Odessa who shingles roofs and a little sister that’s over in Iraq. If I gotta loop for Tiger this week to make a few bucks, so be it. Lining-up putts certainly pays more than finger painting.” Army recruiting violations aside, another caddy simply stated “Hey, I got kids to feed.”

And with those words, the kids grabbed their bags and hit the course with their respective golfer. Of course it wasn't all fun and games, as one caddy turned out to be a midget from a nearby construction site that managed to hop the fence and sneak onto the course. He was quickly detained by course marshals after they found him trying to sneak off with $2000 dollars worth of golf clubs and Freddy Couples wallet. He was quickly removed from the course and was made to take a handcuffed walk down Magnolia Lane.

And while the tournament is said to have saved money on this year's event, the day was far from without incident. Several caddies were caught playing Pokemon on Nintendo DS, when they were supposed to be gauging the swirling winds, a near riot broke out on the 10th tee as several caddies fought feverishly over a juicebox after the clubhouse ran out early while several golfers were making the turn, one caddy decided to have nap time right in the middle the 14th fairway, much to the chagrin of the group teeing off behind him, and a particularly surley young lady was overheard arguing with her pro, saying, "Look, if you wanny be a pansy and lay up, then by all means hit the 7-iron Nancy, but if you wanna man up and get to the green in two, I suggest growing a pair and hitting the 3 wood." When the golfer then proceeded to lay-up and muttered something to the effect of that's why I'm #2 in the world sweetheart, Mr. Michelson's caddy dropped her bag; quitting on the spot saying, "Ah, blow it out your ass, Dad."

So was putting children on the bags a good idea in terms of saving money? Former Augusta National Chairman Hootie Johnson certainly thinks so.

"We don't feel like this went badly at all," noted Johnson. "Other than the midget and that kid that passed out on 14, we feel like this was a successful test run. I can't figure out why other businesses don't just put kids to work. We saved thousands of dollars in caddy fees and only had one protester."

Looking out the front gates, a young girl in a golf shit and blue jeans was holding a sign protesting the mistreatment of her fellow children. A reporter pointed to the kid and asked, "In the future, if that young lady somehow managed to get her act together, would she be welcomed with open arms to join this prestigious country club?"

"No," said Johnson. "We don't enjoy the presence of their kind here."

"Women," the reporter asked.

"Protesters."

"Ahh," he said. "I guess with the all misappropriation of human rights here today, I must have had you guys confused with the other Augusta National."

The last strange day of Plaxico Burress

7:45 am - Ignore call from Giants.

8:15 am - Ignore call from Giants.

8:30 am- Ignore call from Giants while you take your son to school, even though he's not even 2 yet.

8:32 am - Remind yourself to make up a better excuse next time.

9:00 am - Call drew Drew Rosenhaus and tell him you want a newer new contract.

9:08 - Find unregistered firearm. Decide to keep it. What’s the worst that could happen?

9:30 am - Run over playbook with Escalade.

9:45 am - Text New York Giants President John Mara and tell him that you are expecting a new contract.

9:46 am - Turn to Weather Channel when he inquires what the weather in hell is like.

10:00 am - Text Eli's cell phone and say you're with Dominoes and have 50 pizzas in the parking lot for a "Launchpad Macock." (do this for the next 2 hours)

12:00 pm - Find that guy that does the Verizon commercials and his network. Wander around New Jeresy to find out where they won't follow you. Mark these spots down for use in future alibi.

12:45 pm - Call Michael Strahan and ask him if he wants to do lunch.

1:15 pm - Don't show up for lunch; dude is too damn annoying.

1:20 pm - Practice dialing phone for next time you need to miss practice...Friday.

1:30 pm - Lunch with Tom Brady. Share complaints about serious leg injuries.

1:35 pm - Storm out of lunch after Brady remarks your pansy ass injury complaints "don't have a leg to stand on."

1:35 pm - Remind Tom Brady, neither does he.

2:45 pm - Call Allen Iverson and ask him how practice was. Laugh uncontrollably for 20 minutes.

3:10 pm - Pay some of those 50 fines you've gotten over the past two years.

3:15 pm - Call Marvin Harrison and ask if he wants to go to the shooting range.

3:30 pm - Spend some quality time yelling at the wife.

4:00 pm - Keep going to places without making phone calls to the Giants.

4:15 pm - Call the Cincinatti Bengals and ask them to speak to Peter Warrick. when they say he doesn't play there anymore, mock them for taking him before you in the 2000 draft. Then tell them if you get into any legal problems, the Bengals are still #1 on your trade list.

4:45 pm - Email USA Today and make predictions on the point spreads for this week's games. When they remind you it's illegal for NFL players to gamble, remind them that you got 50 fines and don't really care for "rules or regulations."

4:50 pm - Place $200,000 on new prop bet that you won't get fined again this week.

5:15 pm - Come up with new injury to sit out of training camp during next contract
year. Narrow it down to separated groin, Foot in Mouth Disease or Ankleistis.

5:17 pm - Decide it's a combination of all three.

5:30 pm - Wonder why someone like Marvin Harrison never calls you back.

6:00 pm - Eat dinner with Tiki Barber. Ask him how his doppelganger likes his Super Bowl ring.

6:05 pm - Remind yourself why you were glad Tiki Barber left when he did.

6:45 pm - Trade yourself to the Raiders on Madden so you can understand what it's like to be overpaid and never have to go to meetings.

6:46 pm - Neglect to go to Eli’s birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese.

6:48 pm - Fall in love with Al Davis and his Crypt Keeper mug.

6:48 pm - 9: 48 pm - Proceed to enjoy your 7 year tenure on .300 team on Madden 09'.

10:00 pm - Call you buddy GW and ask him what the hell is up with the economy.

11:00 pm - Finish burying your signing bonus next to Jimmy Hoffa in Giants Stadium.

11:05 pm - Call Randy Moss and tell him you dialed the phone with your ring finger.

11:10 pm- Go on WebMD and find out where it was exactly Randy Moss told you should stick you your ring.

11:30 pm - Hit the club with Antonio Pierce. Find one that allows patrons in wearing sweatpants.

11:37 pm - Show everyone the gun juggling routine you learned from Pacman Jones.

11:37 pm - Shoot yourself in the leg.

11:38 pm - Scream some more.

11:40 pm - Antonio Pierce reminds you of the irony of his name being “Pierce,” but you being the one who is “pierced” his leg with a bullet.

11:41 pm - Remind Antonio Pierce that you’ve already shot one person today and he needs to keep his mouth shut if he wants to keep it that way.

11:45 pm - Wipe prints off of you new, slightly used unregistered firearm.

12:18 am - Misplace firearm in an undisclosed dumpster behind the Stuckey’s on I-95.
12:45 am - Find a hospital that doesn’t ask any questions and still takes Blue Cross & Blue Shield.

1:10 am - Still don’t call the Giants to let them know what’s going on. They probably won’t notice the gaping hole in your leg anyway.

1:30 am - Watch Designing Women.

2:00 am - Curse Charlton Heston and those damn dirty apes as you burn your NRA card along with any remaining evidence to your crime.

2:30 am - Don’t worry about calling the Giants. They can’t help you where you’re going…

2:35 am - Write an apology letter to all the fantasy owners who drafted you early in their drafts only to find out they had shot themselves in the foot when you shot yourself in the leg.

3:00 am - Pop a vicodin and go to bed with dreams of doing it all again tomorrow...in jail.

via National Lampoon

Basball Maladies that have affected players throughout the years

via National Lampoon

This week the Detroit Tigers placed former Rookie of the Year, Dontrelle Willis, on the Disabled List with what club officials are calling an "anxiety disorder." In the old days of baseball, before agents and players unions ruined the game, coaches and players used to simply call this "losing your stuff," and it was grounds for releasing said player. But, in today's market, when a player is in year two of a three year $30 million dollar contract, teams don't have the luxury of realeasinga player without owing the player millions of dollars for under performance. So they are reduced to making up pseudo-injuries and placing the player on the DL in order to try and save face without telling their fans that the player sucks. Here are some of the pseudo-injuries the MLB has seen throughout the years.

Craig Counsell is on the DL with Craig Counsell Disease which makes him suffer by going up to the plate and hitting like Craig Counsell. Good luck hitting over .230 with this disease.

Coco Crisp is on the DL for something called “Chocolate Madness,” which had previously only been seen in patients with Type I diabetes and pregnant women; oh and that bird that suffered from it in the commercials. While injured, he spends his time in the clubhouse screaming “I’m koo koo for Coco Puffs,” while wildly brandishing a Louisville slugger and taking swings at imaginary cartoon birds that according to him are freely roaming “everywhere” in the Kansas City clubhouse.

Alex Rodriguez is on the DL rehabbing in Colorado after having surgery to remove a cyst in his hip. He has said that he blames his post-season woes on Kabbalah, hookers and mirrors in which to kiss himself and his bad hip on carrying the Yankees on his back these past few seasons. Doctors were understandably confused by Mr. Rodriguez’s diagnosis because carrying the Yanks on your back is what New York doctors refer to as “Jeteritis,” and everyone agrees that A-Rod shows absolutely no symptoms of Jeteritis.

Ryan Howard is on the DL with No-Breaking Ball Syndrome which makes him only able to recognize and hit fastballs.

National’s prospect Esmailyn Gonzalez is on the DL with Benjamin Button Dyslexia Disease; it’s where a player thinks he’s 19, but really turns out to be 23.

Johnny Damon was diagnosed and spent time on the DL for Et Tu, Brute or “The Judas Disease,” after joining the Yankees in 2006. It makes you a bit slower, noticeably more injury prone and you start to throw like a 10-year old girl. Also, it causes people wearing Red Sox hats to swear and try and spit on your face upon seeing you in public anywhere outside a Catholic Church.

Manny Ramirez went on the DL with Manny Being Manny Syndrome. SEE: Self Inflicted Amnesia.

Dwight Gooden once missed 6 games after he was affected by Tony Montana Disease, which caused him to shoot and kill 6 FBI agents and 2 Mr. Mets when they broke down his door and tried to arrest him during a coke deal. No charges were filed...

Matt Holiday suffers from Rocky Mountain Malaise, which only allows him to hit 25 HR in the state of Colorado (most preferably in Coors Field) Also you have to wait till his bat is blue; that’s the only way you’ll know he’s ready to hit .350.

Barry Zito has suffered from and missed a start last year with P.M. Brusitis. It makes all his pitches look like the ones seen by hitters at batting practice. It causes you to lose control of both your pitches and your ERA.

Even the Phillie Phantaic isn't insusceptible to the occasional trip to the DL. He sometimes suffers from the Phillie Phlu which causes him to uncontrollably bitch about Ryan Howard's outrageous K rate, the feeling that he needs to dance at the most inopportune moments and cry uncontrollably when visiting fans poin out the fact that he looks like some bizarre lovechild of Big Bird, Snufflelufagus, and the turf at the Astrodome.

Pete Rose suffered from Bettor's Guilt, which caused him to wish that he'd bet on a better team than the Reds.

J.D. Drew once missed a game because he was on his period.

Mickey Mantle was once placed on the DL with the listing of "Jack Daniels."

Rickey Henderson spent time on the DL during his career while suffering from Rickey Henderson Juxtaposition Influenza. According to the all-time stolen base leader the disease caused Rickey confusion and Rickey can’t think when Rickey needs to think, so the words coming out of Rickey’s mouth aren’t always combobulated in a fashion that Rickey is completely comfortable with Rickey saying and Rickey needs Rickey to be comfortable or Rickey can’t run. Rickey needs to run. Run Rickey, run. Rickey. Oh and it causes the person infected to continually talk in first person, even when the listener is already aware of what Rickey, Rickey is talking about.

Riots erupt at ESPN offices after someone inadvertently comments--“Someday Terrell Owens will retire.”

via National Lampoon

Pandemonium erupted this morning at the usually tranquil ESPN offices in Bristol, Connecticut, when an associate producer for ESPN’s flagship “Sports Center” made a casual remark at the show’s morning meeting that at some point “Terrell Owens was going to retire.”

A handful of fires were reported and several people had to receive medical attention, as everyone in the room exploded into panic upon hearing that their own Public Enemy #1 would one day hang-up his cleats. Once that realization set in, the bedlam spilled out of the conference room and into the main offices, as employees were found chaotically trying to back-up files, taking baseball bats to camera equipment, some frantically trying to carry cardboard cutouts of Brett Favre to safety, and curmudgeon Skip Bayless even "accidentally" lit longtime friend of Sports Center commercials, Mr. Met's, head on fire for being “an abomination to other more talented mascots.”

“Dare I say, En Fuego!” was never more apropos, as Mr. Met frantically ran in circles, head ablaze, just waving his arms in panic as his on-lookers momentarily stopped what they were doing to cheer and laugh. His child-like antics and joyful expression of unbridled enthusiasm and mild goofiness always made people smile. He died of smoke asphyxiation. He was 46-years old.

One Producer was found rumblin' bumblin' stumblin' hysterically through the offices; sweating profusely and brandishing a weapon while screaming “T.O. : T-O the ENDZONE.” He was finally trapped in a corner and subdued once the fire marshal assured him, “Mr. Berman, this isn’t a parade so put down the 5-iron, take off that silly swami hat and put on some pants, we’re here to take you to safety.”

Officials at the scene had to call in a hostage negotiator to talk another hysterical producer off the roof.

“What’s T.O.’s favorite color? Where does T.O. shop? What dry cleaners does he use? Does he still cry when he talks to Tony Romo? Does his dry cleaners fit his needs or is the dry cleaners just a product of his environment? We’ll never know! Was that shirt permanent pressed? Was that real popcorn he used in his celebration? What is the tone of the locker room? Are you really supposed to take that many pills at one time?!?! I need a press conference, DAMN IT!!!”

Luckily, before the man could jump, an officer threw on a T.O. jersey and temporarily distracted the producer, who immediate yelled to his cameramen. No less than 10 cameras swarmed the officer, screaming questions about off-season workout programs and whether or not he would still cry over Tony Romo now that he was in Buffalo; giving fire fighters just enough time to set up a safety net to catch the man. As the producer finally succumbed to gravity he was heard yelling, “Release. Rotation. Splash!”

Who knew that the distractions T.O. made could actually ever do any GOOD? Other employees were shocked to find out that maybe Owens wasn’t the bad guy that they had made him out to be. Could Owens actually be…helpful to certain people?

“Saving a life. If the Cowboys would have won a Super Bowl, he’d only need one more miracle to be a saint,” remarked one awed staffer. When another chimed in, “One more miracle or one bad trade away from being a Saint…”

Police officials said that at this hour most of the fires had been contained and everyone evacuated to nearby hospitals were in stable condition. When asked if this was the worst sports related riot he had ever seen, he stated “It’s the worst we’ve seen here in Bristol in awhile, but these things come and go every few years. When Jordan retired the first time, we had to airlift 6 people out. It seems like they only cover 4 stories or 4 people a week and just repackage them everyday. And when one of those people retires, well, you get today…”

ESPN producers need not fret, as Terrell Owens is sure to keep pulling in headlines far after a Hall-of-Fame worthy NFL career. T.O. is currently writing his memoirs called “Dropping Balls,” but has ran into some difficulties securing the rights to the title as another NFLer Willis McGahee has also been rumored to be using that exact phrase for his memoirs.

“Football? It ain’t got nuthin’ to do with football.,” said McGahee in a phone interview.

President of Operations at ESPN assured the media that the network would be back up and running by the end of the day because, “We’ve got a responsibility to our viewers to bring them up-to-the-minute updates on what Brett Favre is doing at this very moment. And we do not intend on letting them down.”

Sports Center, now with 25% more Favre coverage, 25% more Terrell Owens coverage, a few baseball highlights, and 100% more smoke damage.

BOOOOOYAH!

Miami Dolphins first ever “Take your daughter to work day” deemed "tragic"

via National Lampoon

Miami Dolphins held their first ever “Take your daughter to work day” today, where employees of the organization were encouraged to bring their daughters and nieces under the age 12 to come be a part of the team for a very special father-daughter bonding experience.


The Dolphins haven’t had something go this terribly wrong since Ricky Williams claimed it was “Bong O’Clock” and essentially left the 2007 (1-15) season a joke that could only be told made funny by the likes of Cheech and Chong.


The day started out as a to show of love and support, with dolphins personnel showing their daughters the day-to-day operations of a professional football franchise. It was a day they hoped would introduce young women to a profession that has long been dominated by middle aged males in team visors and old curmudgeons chomping on cigars talking about the good ol’ days, when you were allowed to lay haymakers on refs, drink in the huddle and play both sides of the ball.


However, the day took a very ugly turn when a friendly scrimmage turned into an all-out war on the field, as Dolphin veterans turned cold when the niece of one of the trainers put a late hit on receiver Ted Ginn, Jr. From there, things just seemed to get out of hand.

“You think you can just come up in my house and motherfuckin’ finger paint. Hells no. She’s lucky she even got fingers left after that scrimmage. I’m not playing a game here. This here is my business. I don’t come into kindergarten classes and be all drawing dinosaurs with crayons and reading the Berstein Bears. This isn’t nap time! So don’t come into my place of work and pretend you can play quarterback when you know my job is to make you pay for hanging on to the ball too long. I don’t care if you weight 50 lbs or 300 lbs; my job is to hit you hard. End of story.”


And possibly the end of childhood. A very sudden, jarring, spine tingling end to childhood.


And the little girl was lucky to get out of the huddle and on to a gurney with 8 of her ten digits still intact. Although, her one completion did raise the eyebrows around the Dolphins training facility. Most notably those of head coach Tony Sparano.


“Yeah, that 11 year old playing free-safety was a waste of a practice jersey. She tackled like a girl (she was). But, I was impressed with the 8 year old’s arm at QB. I think we might keep her around. What was her line? (1-6 for an 11 yard gain) Well she already throws farther than Pennington.”

She was offered a 10 day contract, but was unable to sign…you know, because of the whole fingers thing.

rest of the day was spent mostly with trainers and doctors of the organization. Wasn’t the original plan of an ice cream social, but a myriad of injuries ranging from a broken collar bone to a detached retina were really putting a damper on the day. But time will heal their broken bones. As far as their spirits and their self-esteem, now that’s probably going to take quite a bit of time and therapy.


“As far as I’m concerned, today was a good start to our season,” said Vice President of Football Operations, Bill Parcells. A win’s a win. I saw a lot of sad little girls out there playing hard today. And some of them even brought their daughters.”

Of course an anonymous staffer put it best, “I’d say this was not only a terrible idea, but has probably set human relations back 200 years.”

Another win in Miami.

Announcer Joe Buck retires from Fox Sports to become BINGO caller in Utah

This week the fantastically insipid broadcaster Joe Buck stepped down from his duties as play-by-play announcer for the St. Louis Cardinals in order to focus more of his time towards being the main play-by-play analyst for Fox Sports. However, today a source of the Blue Monkey Disco Party found out that Buck had no plans to return to the Cardinals or even to Fox, but is set to retire from sports reporting all together in order to pursue his lifelong passion of being a BINGO caller in Salt Lake City. We decided to check in with Buck to see what was really going on.

“The sound of the balls carelessly careening through the roller. The soft fluttering of ink stamps as I yell out F-19. The soft hum of the old folks on their hover rounds. I love it. You just can’t get this type of lethargy anywhere else and you can’t get anyone more boring to call a game this boring than me. It's like we were made for each other.” Buck said when asked about his career change.

We asked why he was giving it up now in the midst of the prime of his broadcast career. Sports seemed like his calling, his father has been a popular sports announcer, he had been a popu…announced sports, so why would he give it all up now and move away to somewhere like Utah.

“Why Salt Lake City? Because it’s me, it’s my style. No personality, mundane, severely understated, no alcohol, no strip clubs, it’s boring, it’s no fun, it’s…me.”

We wondered “Why not report for the Jazz or one of Salt Lake’s other sports teams, like--The Jazz” which Joe of course replied “Everybody knows I was bored to death reporting sports. Have you ever listened to a game I called? I couldn’t care less what was going on because I actually couldn’t care less about what’s going on. My passion is the tedium and banality of BINGO! BINGO BABY! If there was anything I was more suited for, I just don‘t know what it would be.”

When we then inquired about an example of some of what a BINGO callers finer moments would entail, Buck actually slightly raised his voice to a semi-enthusiastic level and replied:

“You gotta feel the excitement when some 78 year old retiree screams a raspy voiced “BINGO!” right before she has a massive coronary and we have to break out the defibrillators. Listen to how mundane I make the miraculous sound. Hear how I can make the most complex and amazing athletes seem as though they are just run of the mill Joe Nobody schmucks? Old people eat that demeanor up. No loud noises, no boisterous crowds to interfere with my soothing voice. These people love me because of who I really am, which is just an average caller who won’t make any sudden movements or raise my voice to a level that would scare their grandchildren and/or cats.”

We couldn’t in our right mind believe JB wouldn’t miss the fun and excitement of getting pumped up to telecast football on Sunday’s with Troy Aikman. The atmosphere, the adrenaline, living every child’s fantasy of hanging out and talking sports with their favorite professional athletes. But, apparently not Joe...

“This is basically the same thing. I’m up on the podium reporting the action in my most lifeless and monotonous voice possible, while some old guy standing next to me with a I got nothing going on upstairs look on his face drools all over himself and keeps mumbling incoherently while I‘m calling out numbers. So it‘s kinda like baseball season with Tim McCarver, except by ‘kinda,’ I mean ‘exactly.’ The only difference between Troy and Tim is that at least Aikman has a reason to sound like he‘s suffered from multiple concussions. I mean Aikman has taken more shots to the head than a whack-a-mole machine at a Chuck E. Cheese. During commercial breaks we have an intern come in and put a mirror under his nose to make sure he‘s still breathing. He dozed off during a commercial once and we called the EMT. Even though he’s not even playing football anymore the guy has to wear a helmet if he gets within 60 yards of a football stadium. That’s actually part of our insurance policy. Bingo is light years better than football and baseball. Most of these BINGO fanatics may suffer from the same debilitating health problems as my Fox counterparts, but trust me when I say that these senior citizens are my core fan base…”

After being queried into what he would miss most about broadcasting live sporting events Joe merely replied, “Secretly belittling every single thing the Boston Red Sox ever accomplished.” Apparently he feels the same way about people “jumping the gun” which in BINGO terms means a player yells out BINGO before actually having BINGO. This is much like what Joe would do to the Red Sox, even if the game was over and the Red Sox had won, Joe would always find a way to make it sound like Boston had somehow come up short during the telecast. Especially when they beat the Yankees…

“I’d love to just deck those people who jump the gun…” said Buck, “…but I just don’t have the energy to do anything more than stand sill for hours on end in a drab suit and give uninspired commentary on the many exciting things going on around me. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s Mormon Women’s League Night and if I keep them waiting they’ll threaten to banish me to a hell that unbeknownst to me is actually somewhere OUTSIDE of Salt Lake City.”

And off he shuffled into the small church auditorium where one could hear the faint rumblings of a life alert bracelet. A far cry from the baseball cathedrals and football coliseums he had become so accustomed to. A man in search of his dreams in city by the lake. A man who had found his calling, in calling.

Goodbye to the man who gave us the call on McGwire’s 62nd home run, the tepid call on the Eli to Tyree Super Bowl catch and countless hours of enthralling banter with the likes of Chris Myers, Tim McCarver and Troy Aikman. Who will we get our lifeless, humdrum commentary from come Sunday next year? At this point we are too broken up to follow up on that lead. But if this reporter was to guess, I’d say Comedy Central might just have to unfreeze Ben Stein.

Brett Favre retirement letter secrets (originally published after 1st retirement)

Brett Favre has really, for serious this time retired; ending over a year of speculation on how many off-seasons he would partake in saying he'd like one more shot at winning a Super Bowl. Many believe the second retirement will stick, but others question why he'd go one and done with the Jets.

Some say that he didn’t want to further tarnish his reputation after his last retirement caused weeks of terrible media coverage between himself and Packer management. He has an adoring fan base in Wisconsin and wherever John Madden’s tour bus is parked this week, so when news that Favre had already decided to retire this early into the off-season, it left some surprised, while others saw it as a sign that the QB was finally going to hang the spikes up for good.

However, we at the BMDP know the real reason Brett will finally be riding into the NFL sunset. Favre felt so bad about casting such a harsh shadow on the NFL over the past year, that he decided to go ahead and write a letter in order to get some secrets he’s been keeping under wraps all these years, off his chest. Unfortunately for him, airing his dirty laundry has raised some eyebrows down at the Commissioner’s Office and they aren’t quite sure Brett was the man, myth and legend they originally thought he was...

Here is a list of things the quarterback divulged in his retirement letter. ..

I know I can still play this game. I threw 62 touchdowns my first season of Madden 09’. However the game had a glitch and kept referring to me as Tom Brady.

I once snuck a pair of my Wrangler Jeans into the Hall at Canton just to see how’d they’ look in one of the cases. I have to say I am embarrassed that they didn’t look half as good a Joe Namath’s pantyhose.

I’m the last true NFL competitor. To be honest I threw all those interceptions just to keep it close…

Once fought a Ford 450-Super Duty just to see who was “tougher.” Answer: Me.
The secret to my consecutive games streak…day spas.

I don't think I'm saying anything that everybody didn't already know, but Mike Homgren is really just a well disguised walrus.

Once in 1992 I killed a Blackula by throwing a wooden stake 70 yards on a rope and straight through his heart. I’m not proud of it, but it happened. I thought you should know.

The reason I never missed a game was because I needed the money for my pain pill addiction.

John Madden and I were married in 2002 in San Francisco. It was a small ceremony that took place in an Ace Hardware store. BOOM! Our honeymoon was a bus ride to Graceland. It was magical.

I once removed my spleen with just an ax and a staple gun. I threw 3 touchdowns that game.

Barry Sanders…robot.
I’m lactose intolerant. I don’t even like cheese.

My frst year in Green Bay I thought that "Lambeau" was just the french word for "cold as hell."

For Halloween, one year I went dressed as Kerry Collins. And I’ve thrown twice as many interceptions ever since.

In order t get ready for the regular season, I used to go out to bars with Reggie White and make him break bar stools over my head.

The reason I throw the ball so hard is in the off-season I practice by throwing cinderblocks at parked cars and Bears fans.
I once kicked a brick through a Chevy Impala .

I have an Arizona Cardinals football phone.

There’s Something about Mary…yeah, it’s the fact that she’s really a dude. It should really be called “There’s something about Marty.”

I survived Katrina because I built an Arch just by willing giant pieces of wood together. I then took two of everything, except for Bears, Lions and Vikings.

Those tears I cried when I retired last year…I was really just thinking about the season finale of Gilmore Girls.

When I really do retire, Steve McNair and I are going to do a remake of the Odd Couple. It’s going to be called “Nails and The Glass Man.”

When Strahan sacked me for the record and I went down without a fight…I just wanted a hug.

Adam “Pacman” Jones' Son Causes Chaos at Local Chuck E. Cheese

Chuck E Cheeses reports that Tommy Kelly’s birthday party was recently marred by violence when 6 year old son of Cowboys cornerback “Pacman” Jones, Frogger Jones, reportedly broke into a ticket machine at a local Chuck E Cheese and afterward armed with a backpack full of yellow prize tickets he threw his tiny arms up and “made it rain.”

Chaos erupted within the usually tranquil family establishment as dozens of children leapt to there feet and made a mad dash for the thousands of tickets strewn about the skee-ball lanes and multi-colored ball pits as the situation escalated when the panic spread to several other birthday parties and even the giant mouse himself couldn’t regain control of the ticket frenzied mob.

All hell broke lose when Jones screamed “come get yo tickets bitches,” and hundreds of screaming children from ages 6 to 13 all converged on the ticket machine like a pack of rabid wolverines; knocking over tables, chairs, giant costumed characters and basically rendering the restaurant a flashing, ringing war zone.

Things escalated when even the most well mannered group of Mormon children got completely out of control and started violating a skee-ball machine. Little Frogger himself was angered by the ensuing mob and ended up slamming a birthday boy’s head against a Dance Dance Revolution machine while screaming at the top of his little lungs “Do you know who I am? Who’s dancing now son!?!” The little boy’s name was withheld from reports, but according to a Chuck E. Cheese employee, the little boy turned 10 that day and sadly left his party with only that many baby teeth still intact.

The child was able to regain consciousness for long enough to collect a few hundred of the much sought after tickets which he used to get himself some Chuck E. Band-Aids and some Chuck E. Crutches. Unfortunately, he was unable to enjoy his much anticipated Hannah Montana cake.

Tiny Nike imprints were everywhere as the mob (all hopped up on pizza and Mountain Dew) took to destroying the restaurant, tipping over video games, dismantling skee-ball machines, raising havoc in the ball pit and then mocking and ultimately destroying the band of singing bears that plays shows in the Chuck E. Cheese Dining Hall. Destruction estimated at over $15,000 was not all that resulted from the melee as the restaurant is now missing several chairs, numerous birthday cakes, several air hockey pucks and an entire member of the “Country Bear Jambaroo.” Anyone who has information on the whereabouts of “Ban Jo Bear” or “Jasper T. Jowls” is asked to alert the proper authorities immediately.

Management at the restaurant say they have never seen anything like the anarchy and panic that ensued when little Frogger threw those tickets in the air. The Company now says it will beef up ticket machine security and take all the necessary precautions for future birthday extravaganzas, while adding that if Mike Vick’s son ever wants a party, Chuck E. Cheeses has a “no animals allowed policy” that pertains to everything except for giant vermin.

A letter from God addressed to NE Patriot fans... (published 09.SEP.08)

Dear Patriot Fans,

I know your probably standing on the edge of a bridge right now because you think your football season is over. And I regret to inform you that this indeed will be the winter of your discontent. Look, I know you think football season (life) is now over for you, but it’s not like I ended the career of your beloved Tom Brady. It could have been much, much worse. Just ask Joe Theisman.

Let’s face it Boston, you’ve had a great run on my watch. But yesterday at around 1:10 EST we had to shut down Heaven because you flooded our servers with your prayers. While I applaud your zeal, we just can’t keep up with all the sports related prayers in Boston all of the time. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I’ve got a few more pressing issues, like war, famine, AIDS, cancer, the bloodcurdling holy war that’s quickly approaching…

You know how many people said my name in vain yesterday? 115 million and about 100 million of those came from the state of Massachusetts alone. A guy in Gillette Stadium said it 142 times; a new record. Un-be-lievable. Seriously you guys are soooooo dramatic when it comes to your sports. We haven’t had a prayer avalanche like this since the 86’ World Series. At least the answers to those prayers were simple. The answer to the first question was “no not this year,” and the answer to the second question was “No I can’t carpet bomb it, I don’t even know where Bill Buckner lives.”

That was the also the night heaven got the most prayers it’d seen since D-Day. Coincidentally, that was also the night that we saw a dramatic increase in atheism and it also set the record for “most people to die from alcohol poisoning.” We were very busy that night. I’m talking standing room only. We had a line out the door a mile long. I’m talking opening night of a Star Wars sequel long. I couldn’t believe it. We lost less Catholics during The Crusades.

My Sundays are busy enough without you praying for Randy Moss touchdowns and for every Wes Welk-ah slant to go for a first down. (By the way I have no idea how that guy does it. I created the slant route for slow white receivers, but that guy should be earning royalties for it.) There are 31 other NFL teams, not to mention Kurt Warner’s wife who NEVER leaves me alone. You’re just going to learn to appreciate what you have. I know Tom is. I mean have you seen that girlfriend of his? That’s some of my primo work. He’s not missing anything by spending a few months alone with her.

I don‘t know what else to do for you Boston fans. It’s never enough. I finally gave in a few years ago and gave you that World Series title that you had been so desperately praying for like, 80 years. I was growing very tired of the whining and quite frankly, I couldn‘t stand it anymore. I mean with the accent, and the foul language, the prayers were sounding less and less like prayers and more like a Drop Kick Murphy’s concert.

And to show I was a good sport about it, I went ahead and gave you another ring last year. Then I gave your beloved Celtics a title when I got inside Kevin McHale’s head and made him trade you Kevin Garnett. Not to mention the 3 other Super Bowl rings I gave your Pats over the last few years. Even I couldn’t believe you beat the Rams. Last year you got Randy Moss for a 4th round pick! This streak of wild luck had to come crashing to a halt at some point. And that’s what today was about.

Injuries like this happen. I’ve been telling Peter for years, they just need to invent a Robocop-like suit of armor to put on these guys so stuff like this doesn’t happen over and over again. It’s not an accident the Pope’s car is encased in bullet proof glass. Contrary to what you believe, I can’t be everywhere at once people and I certainly didn’t construct the human body to strap on plastic helmets and run into each other at high speeds. Either get better pads or get used to things snapping and breaking when you slam yourselves together.

And if I may be perfectly honest, I don’t even like the NFL. Anything that competes for my attention on Sunday (MY day) is subject to my wrath. Therefore anyone who plays it is on his own. Besides, I don’t like football. I like the sweet simplicity of baseball. That’s why I’m a Cubs fan.

And for the love of Me, all you New York Jets fans can quit thanking me in your prayers now. You too Cassell

I’m sorry New England,

God

P.S. - There is no reverse aging process that will ever be able to bring Larry Bird back into playing shape. His lower back is held together by thin tubes of glass and paper mache, so stop asking.

P.S.S. - I don't want to be seeing one of those Hitler vidoes about this thing either...

'Million Dollar Man' Ted DiBiase Declares Bankruptcy

Money Money Money…

…No Money

With the United States slowly slipping into the depths of a complete economic recession amid rising fuel costs, a credit crisis and a housing market teetering on the brink of a complete collapse, one would think that the rich would still thrive while the poor simply had to push their cars to work. However, it seems that even the rich are feeling the steely grip of economic recession.

"Everyone's got a price," The Million Dollar man used to eloquently state to opponents such as Rowdy Roddy Piper and Superfly Jimmy Snuka right before he struck them in the face with a folding chair. "Everyone's got to pay."

Sadly, now it looks like it's Mr. DiBiase himself, who has taken a folding chair to his face, as the US economic meltdown has left him almost penniless. The only thing folding in former "King of the Rings" life right now is his fledgling Million Dollar Corporation.

"I had to fire Virgil again," said the despondent DiBiase as he packed his desk belongings into an uncharacteristicly bland cardboard box. "We'd been together for 20 years. Then one day I turn on CNBC and poof, it's all gone. Damn that Jim Cramer and his Mad Money! I wish I still had my folding chair factory so I could grab one and pop that red haired bastard in the mouth. Booyah! Right to that ugly mug of his! Stock Pick of the Week: Buy high in dentistry."

Alas, Jim Cramer can't be the only one to blame. It seems that Million Dollar Corp. has been riding the slow train to Bankruptsville for quite some time now. The company dealt mostly in commodities that DiBiase himself knew the most about. Things such as bow ties, diamond encrusted chalices, Sapphires, non-toxic face paint, HGH, folding chairs, ostentatious suits that would make both Elvis and Liberace puke in their own mouths, etc, etc.

"I should have known when the Hart Foundation went under, and Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat had to sell both his dragon and his steamboat…we were getting ready to bottom out," said a the former Million Dollar Man.

DiBiase trusted most of his money and control in Million Dollar Corp. to his long time accountant and former tag team partner Irwin R. Schyster. It turns out Schyster was a much better wrestler than accountant; and that's not saying a whole lot. In only a matter of a few short years Schyster took the once thriving corporation from "King of the Ring" to "Summer Slammed."

Some claimed his accounting credentials were more than a bit shady and many questioned his educational background. Schyster always claimed that he graduated Magna Cum Laude from the prestigious Wharton School of Business, but those close to the accountant say that he was no more accredited than simply having one of those degrees that you could order by mail. Others swear that his degree was nothing more than a vague description of an ITT Tech commercial written on the back of a Denny's placemat. But, by the time anyone at the Million Dollar Corporation could question unwise investment strategies, the company was in ruins.

No more fancy stretch limousines. No more bourgeois suits. No more prestigious WWF titles. No more money, money, money.

"Had to sell my suits to Mathew Lesko, that wild-eyed ? Mark suit guy from those commercials. You know, the ones where he jumps around and screams about all this free money the government is giving away. Apparently there's a government program to help low level television personalities afford gaudy diamond encrusted suits. As a businessman, I find that to be suspect. You ever seen those commercials? That guys hopped up on something. I wouldn't be surprised if he uses that money to fund a meth lab somewhere…"

As for the famous Million Dollar Belt, that goes to the only personality with more money and less tact than the former Tag Team Champ. "Donald Trump. He's the only damn person that can afford anything now," Ted said disgustedly. "It just goes to show that you can buy the belt, you can buy diamonds to encrust the belt, you can buy help to carry the belt, but you can't buy class to go with the belt."

And so it seems the Million Dollar Dream is finally over. Another victim of a worldwide economic nosedive that seems far from over. The Dream is looking more and more like a Million Dollar Nightmare at this point. Ted DiBiase aka The Million Dollar Man, has filed Chapter 11 and declared bankruptcy. A melancholy end to a prestigious career.

When I asked how the public should refer to him now that his famous moniker is no longer relevant, he said, "I dunno, I guess I'll just have to go by Regular Dollar Man, Ted DiBiase."

With his cardboard box of mementos Regular Dollar Man Ted DiBiase walked slowly down the street. Drinking Night Train out of a brown paper bag and singing his entrance music alongside longtime pals The Ultimate Warrior and Koko B. Ware, the once proud WWF Superstar disappeared into the night. Just a few more casualties of the waning popularity of professional wrestling. A few more casualties of a toxic economy.

Madden Code of Conduct

Men have lived upon the Earth for thousands of years. We have constructed buildings of unimaginable complexity and beauty, we have traveled great distances into the cosmos in order to appease our unending curiosity of our place in the universe and men have fought numerous wars that shed the blood of their fellow man in order to guard their belief in unalienable freedoms. And through these times men have always lived by a strict code of conduct.

- Never leave a man behind unless he's with a hot woman or he's sober enough to hail a cab.

- Never welch on a bet.
- Never sleep with another man's ex unless getting the OK from said man before hand,. So in simple terms, never sleep with another man's ex.

- Free beer is for drinking and not for complaining about brand selection.
- And under no circumstances outside of another guy setting either you or your mother on fire are you allowed to kick/punch/throw something at another man's testicles.

With today's release of Madden 2009, I think it's about time somebody laid down the "Man Code for Madden." Douchebags and dirty players alike have been running amuck for too long now and I think it's high time someone laid down some ground rules for the most popular sports game since RBI Baseball.

1. Never run the clock out.
This is what is refer to in the sports gaming community as a "bitch move." I'm not talking about using a specific play or plays to actually burn time off the clock, because that's just game management and good coaching. I'm talking the score is 23-20 with a minute and half left and someone is using the kneel button to run out the clock.
##M:[more Madden Code of Conduct]##

First of all there shouldn't even be a kneel-down button because it's garbage and unfathomably insulting to any opponent that isn't the computer. It's especially insulting when the opponent has mounted and epic fourth quarter comeback, only to have Matt Hasselback take a knee three consecutive times inside his own 20. A move like this is grounds for a prison style beating after the clock runs out and depending on the situation, if you take a loss like this then the next time you play you are within your rights to remove the off-sides penalty when your opponent goes to get another beer and then when he least expects it, you get a running start and completely blow up Hasselbeck before he even snaps the ball. Just lay him out. I'm talking a helmet to helmet contact that would make Troy Aikman forget where he was just by watching it.
You don't have to pass, you can run any play from the Goal Line package, but you cannot kneel down under any circumstances.

2. Don't use the Patriots unless you are:

A) In the top 1% of New England Patriot fans

B) You've never played before and your opponent has a distinct experience advantage

C) Your opponent has picked one of the All-Time-All-Madden Teams

The only thing that John Madden has more of a hard-on for than Brett Favre is the New Enlgand Patriots. Look, I know Tom Brady is a good quarterback and the Patriots have always been a solid team (that knew the other teams plays) with an above average defense, but the video game Pats are the equivalent to Tecmo Bo.

Impossible is their M.O. Every Brady pass is on a rope to his inconceivably adept receivers and every small defensive mistake turns into a 85 yard touchdown. Every time your QB holds the ball more than 4 seconds you get sacked and every ball over the middle is intercepted by Mike Vrabel. Look, until last year, Brady couldn't be considered THAT good and he still isn't THAT good.

But, it's been this way for the last 5 damn years. The only way to counter the smothering monstrosity that is the Madden Patriots is to use Peyton Manning's laser rocket arm or to use dog fighter extraordinaire Mike Vick to scramble past a line backing corps that is a combined 387 years old. Now that Vick is behind bars (I'm assuming there aren't any prison teams on Madden 09) the only fair match-up is Pats is vs. Colts or the oft overlooked Pats vs. Pats. Otherwise you're just being a dick.

So unless your truly uber fan #1, have named his kid Bruschi, have a Pats tattoo somewhere on your body, are related to someone in the Kraft family, or are playing against Peyton Manning, do us all a favor and please pick another team.


3. Hazing/harassing/embarrassing an opponent who has obviously been beer bonging Jose Quervo all night is uncalled for and unsportsmanlike

Although you are not required by man code to take it easy on him in lieu of his intoxication level, you should keep the comments and criticism to a semi-professional level. This means no jabs at his employment status, his sister's promiscuity, or the fact that he in fact has the hand eye coordination of a nine year old girl during a dizzy bat race.

This is of course unless you yourself have been partaking in Jager Bombs all night. Then it's known that the playing field's been leveled out and one should show no mercy in letting your inebriated opponent know why Eli Manning is still a fluke and a failure.

4. Instant Replay is off-limits

Nobody wants to see watch their futility in super slow motion, no matter how awesome you think the play was. Under no circumstances should you make your opponent endure a slow-motion recap of how much they suck at video football. Not only does it screw up the flow of the game, it's also just insulting. You didn't actually make that tackle/throw/catch and you're not a professional sports analyst, so spare me the frame by frame Mr. Madden.

The only time I've ever used the instant replay was when my buddy, a rabidly obnoxious Patriots fan and I were playing Madden and he was spouting off at the mouth (as most Pats fans and Jets fans are known for) about how inexplicably awesome and god-like Tom Brady was.

After a few disparaging remarks about my mother and another speech about Tommy Boy being not unlike Jesus Christ in football pads, Julius Peppers came weak side and blindsided the poster boy with a bone rattling hit that bent his back in such a way that his spine actually contorted to resemble the letter C. As in, C you next year when I get the feeling in my legs back or I did not C you and now I am able to taste my spleen.

I remarked that the hit was so vicious that someone at EA would probably have to call Mr. Brady up in the middle of the night and let him know that he in fact was deceased on Madden 2007. I put such a vicious hit on him that he'd no longer be capable of functioning as a player on the game and may God have mercy on his battered soul.

Tom Brady suffered a career ending back injury that night, much to the chagrin of Brady uber alles sitting to my right. The play turned the tide of the game and nearly left my opponent in tears. In other words, it was a glorious moment for everyone in the room who was not from New England. I ended up destroying Matt Cassell's Patriots that game and Super Fan #1 had to sit there and watch me make Gretzky's head bleed.
And let me tell you, we saw that play from EVERY CONCIVEABLE ANGLE!

5. No phone calls with girlfriend and/or wife during the game

Unless she's calling from:

A) jail

B) the hospital

C) a bed in which she is naked with another woman

A player is not to take a call from a better half that exceeds 1 minute in length. This is not a rule, this is a law. None of your friends want to hear about your numerous relationship problems or the various reasons for your domestic squabbles (like you spend too much time playing video games with your drunken friends) while immersed in the spirit of competition.

That is why there is a one minute cap on all phone calls with only these exceptions:

- Your buddy at the store buying beer/grilling materials needs an opinion

- The hot girl from work needs directions to your apartment

- The game is in the last 2 minutes and the phone call is a bonafide emergency

- Somebody has to flip the burgers

- Your buddy at the bar is talking to the Swedish water polo team
 Any phone call exceeding a minute in length means that the player in question must relinquish his controller to the person in closest proximity to you or the guy that screams "I'll play for you!" You are then required to go either outside or in another room to finish whatever business you have on said phone and will not get your controller back until the group recognizes that all business has indeed been taken care of and another conversation will not again interrupt the current game.

6. Shenanigans is a privilege not a right

I swear to God I'm going to pistol whip the next person who says shenanigans!

Hey Farva, what's that restaurant you like that has all the goofy shit on the walls and the mozzarella sticks?

You mean Shenanigans?

Ohhhhhhh!?!

Shenanigans is a very touchy subject in the gaming community. Or at least it is where I come from. If you play enough Madden, you are bound to come across some of the most ridiculous and asinine plays in football history. Whether it's some 5 foot 6 receiver making a leaping catch while fighting off 4 players in the secondary to pick up the first down, a running back bouncing off six defenders in the backfield to break a ninety yard run or folding Tom Brady's spine like a lawn chair with Scoliosis; a player is bound to come across a play or two a game that make you question what the people at EA where thinking, but that's no reason to get wildly upset and is rarely a reason to quit a game mid-stream.

These plays usually happen for both teams, so a player should always understand that what goes around comes around. Yeah, sometimes the play is so inconceivable that you might throw a controller to the ground or it may cause you to question your opponents moral compass, but there are only rare cases where a player can actually utter the word that holds a player and EA sports accountable for what can only be described as complete and utter bullshit.

That word is shenanigans and it is a word so full of venom and spite, that if the word is overused by a player it can actually be used on said player. That's calling shenanigans on shenanigans and the makes you a "shenanigoat" (a person that uses shenanigans as a scapegoat. It's a complicated system.)

The rules for shenanigans are as follows:

A) It has to be used sparingly. More than once a day is cause for suspect and more than once a game is grounds for revoking playing privileges.

B) The play in question has to either tie the score or put the game out of completely out of reach. Otherwise you're just being a pansy.

C) If the play in question is agreed upon to be shenanigans, the person who completed the play must not bring said play up for the duration of the contest, even if it turns out to be the winning play.

No one likes to lose and even more so, no one likes to be lose by means of pure luck for their opponent. So no rubbing it in, even if a Gramtica brother somehow managed to kick a 70 yard field goal into a 10 mph wind to win a game in overtime and didn't even sprain his ankle during the celebration.

These are just a few of the rules to keep in mind when you play your brand new copy of Madden 09 today. These rules are here for everyones benefit. We must abide by the rule, “Honor among men and most importantly honor among Madden. Speaking of which, happy gaming to all those people staying home from work and suffering from the mysterious 24 hour flu that's suddenly making the rounds.



...Shenanigans.

John Daly 2008 Golf

Do you like enjoy professional golf, but often tire of the tedium of always being quiet and sober out on the course. Do you enjoy playing Golden-Tee at the bar, but always become distracted by your buddy constantly puking on the pinball machine or the hot blonde in the low cut shirt playing pool at the table next to you? Worry no longer my friend as Blue Monkey Disco Party has created a game that combines the rowdiness of the bar, the fun and excitement of alcohol poisoning and all the T&A that you can shake your 3-wood at. Light up them Marlboro's and welcome to John Daly 2008.

John Daly 2008 will be equipped with the latest in video game technology, as new video game company BAL has developed a computerized breathalyzer accessory that hooks straight into your game console and let's your PS3 or X-Box know when your blood alcohol level has reached a sufficient enough level to compete with an uber-lete like Mr. Daly . Better break out your beer helmets and saddle up to the bar before hitting the links with Johnny boy, because you're gonna need to blow a .12 to even get the game to turn on.

Gamers will have to purchase the breathalyzer pack separately for $69.99, but it's a necessity in order to get the true John Daly Golf experience. Fortunately, the breathalyzer pack comes with two beer "holsters" for players to keep their cold ones close by while in the heat of competition. It also includes a "Camel Caddy" for the golfer too focused (or unfocused) to stumble 20 ft back to the cart for his smokes. A med-alert bracelet, which players are supposed to write their blood type on. And finally, defibrillators, which players will probably get good use out of as they advance further and further in the game.*

If you start to feel the any of the following :

- light headedness

- inability to operate heavy machinery

- insatiable hunger for wild turkey and Wild Turkey

- the need to take your shirt off

You are ready to start swinging the sticks with Big John!

While the game play is sort of wobbly/fuzzy and it can become increasingly hard to keep your balance as you shotgun beers before each hole, players will have all sorts of sordid obstacles to overcome in order to advance into the championship level. Some of the challenges throughout the game are:

Trying not to ogle the girl in the Hooters outfit that's looping for you while studying your putts

Passing up all the sponsor tents lining the fairways with signs that say "Open Bar"

Have to smoke a pack of Marlboro Reds by the turn or you receive a two stroke penalty

Game is obviously made to give players with the physique of a pregnant walrus a distinct advantage

It turns out that all your rowdy friends have not actually settled down and they're in the gallery with air horns

Daly crushes a 300 yard drive = you crushing a tequila shooter

Trashy women in Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirts will flash you and try to throw off your concentration

Hired that guy that played Tony D'Annunzio in Caddyshack to follow you around and yell "Noonan…MISS IT!"

No shirt, no shoes, no problem. No beer--immediate disqualification

And if you are lucky enough to get to the final match without succumbing to alcohol poisoning or passing out, you'll be able to go toe to toe in match play with JD himself. Players barley able to stand need not worry, as the final 18 is all carts, all the time. When your at the zenith of athletic condition…there's no reason to walk!

And you better beat him in the 18 allotted, otherwise things get ugly as the play-off system is just a shot drinking contest -- whoever finished a bottle of Old Crow first is declared the champion and is presented a trophy by the president of Schlitz Brewing, a 20% off coupon for Hooters and a free stomach pump at the hospital of your choice.

John Daly 2008 is fun for all shapes, sizes and alcohol preferences. So, lock you car keys in a safe place and send the kids to bed early, it's time to play a round with the only golfer you know who's name isn't Tiger Woods.
* Players will also be able to use the accessory for the upcoming release: Drum Hero starring Keith Moon. Cases of whiskey and Heminevrin will be sold separately. Consult your doctor if you show symptoms of trying to drive your Corolla into a pool.

MLB Mid-Season Movie Awards

The Pedro Cerrano Award for "Straight Ball I Hit It Very Much. Curveball, Bats Are Afraid" Award
Seattle Mariners - Richie Sexson - .210 - 9 HR 23 RBI
Sexson, who claimed that injuries led to last years struggles at the plate is once again off to a power surge start belting 9 hr in his first 60 games while batting a not-so astonishing .210. If Sexson is somehow able to keep his job and keep hitting about one out of every four fastballs he sees, they are going to have to rename the Mendoza line the Sexson line. Of course coining that phrase will cost Seattle about $12.5 million a year.
*If you play fantasy baseball, you should only draft this guy if your league has a category for distance.

The Crash Davis Award for Season Going Under The MLB Radar
Texas Rangers - Ian Kinsler - .312 - 13 HR - 50 RBI - 20 SB
As was in Bull Durham, so is the Texas Rangers season. The Rangers acquired the enigmatic Josh Hamilton this past off-season and when he got to Arlington (the most hitter friendly park in the MLB) he got down to the business of hitting. And so far, he's hitting damn near everything and getting the press that goes along with it. However, the Ranger's second baseman has been equally involved in keeping the Rangers afloat a tight AL West race. In his sophomore season, Kinsler has been the prototypical lead- off man by setting the table for the powerhouse behind him and is the leading reason that Hamilton and RF Milton Bradley are having career years in runs batted in. Yet, you probably won't see any cover stories about this guy, but so far, he's been one of the most productive players of the 2008 season.

The Rookie of the Year Rookie Of The Year Award
AL - Tampa Bay Rays - Evan Longoria - .267 - 15 HR - 47 HR- 4 SB
Longoria has been all that he was advertised as. After sitting out the first few weeks of this season because of contract issues, Evan Longoria has become to baseball fans what Eva Longoria is to housewives. The 22 year old is putting up some solid numbers on a team that has been lacking their premiere power hitters all season long. It's safe to say he's part of the reason the Rays are playing well and it's safe to say if he keeps hitting the way he is now, he'll be a fixture in Tampa for years to come.

NL -Cincinnatti Reds - Edinson Volquez - 2.08 ERA - 10 W - 110 K's
He has been lights out for Cincy this season. The 24 year old currently ranks 2nd in the NL in wins and K's, while leading the NL in ERA. An unreal start for any pitcher, let alone a rookie who during spring training some though might even take a back seat to fellow rookie teammate Jonhhy Cuento for 2008's ROY Award. As it stands, Volquez has a very real chance of being this first rookie in a long time to complete the triple crown for pitchers, which is somewhat astounding when you realize that he plays for a Reds team that has loads of young talent. With Voquez, Cuento and CF phenom Jay Bruce being the cornerstones of the future in Cincy, the Cubs better batten down the hatches and find a way to win a World Series before it's too late.


The Roger Dorn "This isn't my bat" Award for The Player Who Has Been 0 For The Season and has to take one for the team
Arizona Diamondbacks - Eric Byrnes - .209 - 6 HR - 23 RBI - 4 SB
The word "fluke" comes to mind when looking back on Byrnes 07' campaign, where he batted close to .290, drove in over 80 runs and stole a career-high 50 bases. The guy is a career .260 hitter, had never stolen more than 25 bags in a season and oh yeah, he was almost 32 by the end of last season. Luckily for Byrnes, the entire Diamondbacks outfield is suffering the same anemic disorder this season, as the Arizona outfield is hitting a combined .225 average on the year, leaving many to wonder if maybe there's something in the grass that is sucking the life out of the bats of the players who roam the outfield. I can understand that most of the outfield is young and inexpirienced, but this is not so for the 32 year old Byrnes. He has no excuse for hitting .200 this far in the season. So Eric, if you are reading this, and you are in the hole 0-2 and a fastball gets away from the pitcher high and inside, it's time to do like Roger Dorn in Major League and take one for the team. And try and steal second while your at it...

The Sandlot Scotty "You're Killing Me Smalls" Award for Underachievement
Philadelphia Phillies - Ryan Howard - .215 - 20 HR - 61 RBI
He may have 68 RBI and he may have 20 HR, but Howard is currently hitting a paltry .215 for the year and is on pace to K a MLB record 230 times. That ladeis and gentleman is about 30 more times than the record of 199 set last year…by Ryan Howard. Most of his RBI are merely due to the fact that Chase Utley got off to an insanely hot start and Howard was fortunate enough to hit right behind him in the order. For any other team in the majors, Howard would be currently sitting at about 30 something RBI and a vote for him would be a wasted ballot for this years All-Star Game. The interesting thing about his situation is that the Phillies have been hesitant to give the power hitting 1st baseman any type of big money deal, even after he won the 2006 NL MVP. My money says that they were pretty certain that Howard was capable of such a monumental collapse in batting average, so they had a wait and see attitude when it came to signing Howard to a long term deal. All that Phillie fans and fantasy owners that root for Ryan Howard can currently say is "Aww, you're killing me Smalls..."

The Bad News Bear Tanner Boyle Award for Best Temper Tantrum Of The Year
Houston Astros - Shawn Chacon - For going Latrell Sprewell on his coach
If you're a baseball fan, you by now know the story of pitcher Shawn Chacon grabbing his manger by the neck and throwing him to the ground earlier this week, that coincidentally lead to the Astros decision to release the pitcher yesterday. And by the looks of his 5.04 ERA and 1.51 WHIP, it's safe to say it's probably the best release that Chacon has seen all season long. Of course the players' association has decided to file a grievance over the release because let's face it people, these days, when a player commits assault and battery on one of his coaches in a room full of teammates and other coaches, it's best to hold a formal investigation into the matter. I mean, it's only a misdemeanor people. Somebody has to look out for the immature millionaires in these situations. At least he didn't throw his glove at the guy rounding second after a home run.

Roy Hobbs "The Natural" Award
Texas Rangers - Josh Hamilton - .312 - 19 - 80 RBI
Unless you don't follow baseball or have been living under a rock this year, you should know the saga of former drug addict Josh Hamilton. He was the first pick of the 99' draft, got a $4 million dollar signing bonus and then proceeded to spend most of his money on drugs and was suspended from baseball after repeatedly violating the league's subatance abuse policy. From 02' to 06' Hamilton was out of baseball all together and spent a god portion of that time in and out of rehab facilities. Three teams and almost 8 years later, Hamilton is looking like the MVP calibur player that the Devil Rays (they were called that at that time) had drafted with the 1st pick of the draft. An amazing story, that while doesn't exactly share the same exact story that the movie did, it does in fact have some of the same story archs and both stories do parrallel the same come back from tragic, almost near death circumstances to play the game they were destined to excell at. Let's at least hope that both stories share the same happy ending.
*However, Josh Hamilton's story was one that he brought on himself and therefore I see it a less of a man befallen by tragic circumstances and more of a lesson of what not to do with a shit ton of money.

The Willie Mays Hayes "You May Run Like Hayes, But You Hit Like Shit" Award
Houston Astros - Michael Bourn - .230 - 4HR - 31 SB
Michael Bourn started the season by stealing 13 bases in his first 86 at bats. At that point in the season he was on pace to hit .200 and still steal 90 bases or so. Now the Astro lead-off man is hitting .230 through the first half and has only 31 SB on the year. If he bought a pair of batting gloves for every base he steals, I figure he'll get to use them about once every four games. He'll get to admire them nailed to his apartment wall right before he grabs his gear and heads out to his next game in the minors. Dude, you're a lead-off man, get the OBP above .300 or start stealing them two at a time.

If You Build It...Moonlight Graham Back From The Dead Award
Tampa Bay Rays - Edwin Jackson - 4.33 ERA - 4 W - 60K
I know this seems like a stretch, but one has to remember that Jackson came in with the Los Angeles Dodgers back in 2003 and put up a 2.45 ERA in 4 games. Thia may not sound that great, but at the time he was a mere 19 years old and was regarded by many to be one of the league's premiere pitching prospects. He had jetted through the minors with ease, but it seemed that in the 2004 season, it may have been too much too quick for the once heralded hurler. He posted an ERA of over 7, 6, then 5 and 5 over the next four seasons. It seemed like he might not get it together, but this year Jackson has once again flashed some signs of brilliance on one of the youngest and brightest pitching staffs in the MLB. He currently is the 4th pitcher for the best team in baseball (really?) Tampa Bay Rays. He's showed signs of his old self in arguably the best hitting division in baseball. Pretty good considering he's still just 24 years old. But, only time will tell if he can once again flourish in the spotlight or possibly flounder back into pitching obscurity.

The Engelburg Award for Player "Most Likely To Be Eating During A Game" Award
Cleveland Indians - C.C. Sabathia - 3.78 ERA - 118 K's - 290 lbs (according to his Yahoo! profile)
Look, I know it's hard to argue about a guy with an ERA under 4 and is currently on pace to strike out 250 guys this year, but early on in the season, C.C.'s ERA and waste line ballooned up to Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade proportions. I'm not claiming that his weight was having a direct correlation to his performance, but honestly the guy looked like he weighed at least 320. Even David Wells would have called him up and told him to hit the gym. I understand that some pitchers don't like to run or work out, but this is getting ridiculous. This guy is paid HUGE money to pitch and stay fit and he looks like the only grand slam that he's worried about is on the menu at Denny's. You don't have to be an "athlete" per say, with fleet feet and the swiftest of reflexes, but for God's sake, could you at least get your weight down to under 300 lbs in time for Spring Training. You aren't a linebacker sir, the only hit's you will be taking part in will start during inter-league play, OK?

Mr. Baseball Award for the MLB Player Most Likely To End His Career In Japan
Frank Thomas .258 7 HR 27 RBI
This could be the ultimate coincidence after the main character in this 92' movie (Tom Selleck) was replaced by a hot hitting rookie who was played by none other than Frank Thomas himself. I'm guessing "The Big Hurt," who's skills have been rapidly deteriorating the past few seasons, will end up finishing out his career somewhere in Japan. This would be a case of absolute sheer sports/film irony. That's what he gets for messing with the most magnificent mustache in cinema history.

The Eight Men Out Award for Most Prominent Player Looking For A New Job
FA - Barry Bonds - All-time HR leader and man only 65 hits away from 3,000
You thought Barry wanted to come back to help win a championship didn't you? I think it's because he is only a half season of hits away from the illustrious 3,000 hit club, in which he would become the 28th member if he should be able to come back and churn out another 65 hits. That of course would be big baseball news. Not the 3,000 hits, the news would be the public relations nightmare that would come along with a team signing Bonds at this point in the season when they know that (A) His records are probably tainted (B) His reputation is definitely tainted (C) He's facing perjury charges for lying to a grand-jury and obstructing the federal government's investigation into BALCO (D) He's never been a company man and that's not going to change any time soon. Bond's is known as a distraction in the clubhouse, but at this point he's turned into a clubhouse circus. Any team that has interest in the services of Barry at this point need to really look hard at what their options are before signing this once hallowed slugger. Shoeless Joe will have plenty of company when the Steroid Era finally comes to an end.

Next Great Sport: Baby Racing

Some sports writers have rendered professional sports dead in the water, and I'm not talking about that time you played water polo with all those horses. I'm talking about real sports.

Professional sports have been in a tailspin in recent years. They've been sullied by exorbitant contracts, performance enhancing drugs, rising ticket prices and gold toothed prima donna wide receivers that play for your favorite professional sports franchise and refuse to shut their mouth and do the job they are paid handsomely to do. You know who you are!

But I'm here to tell you Joe sports fan, that some lesser known sports are alive and well, actually flourishing outside the mainstream spotlight. You won't see it on ESPN and the highlights certainly won't be broadcast on your local sports report. No, I'm not talking about cock fighting, Pedro. I'm talking about something a little less PETA and a little more Social Services. I'm talking about the untainted, unequivocal beauty of sport. I'm of course talking about World League Baby Racing.

Oh yeah, I'm talking about "The Beautiful Race." In some circles they are calling it the next Jai Lai. I think it's going to be even bigger. Not just because it's fun to watch (it is), but because in America, the merit a sport is given is directly correlated to it's gambleability That statement alone should explain exactly why soccer isn't popular on this side of the pond. We don't know enough about the teams to make a sound financial decision on it. I blame it on the fact that there are like 50 players named some variation Ronoldo and I can never seem to pick the right one.

From now on, my financial decisions are going to be put into two categories. Alcohol and betting on borderline child abuse. They both tell the story of my childhood, so why should I stop living the dream now. It's like having an inside information on a thoroughbred, except you don't have to worry about a horseshoe bending and affecting your pick, cause if you can't trust a nine month old toddler to keep focused and see something through to the end, then really who in this world can you trust? I don't want to live in a world where we deny our children the right to compete on such a grand and noble stage.

Now I'm not talking about recreational baby racing here; I'm talking about down and dirty, no holds bar, gritty no-nonsense baby racing. It's uber-competitive. It's intense. It's indubatable. It's truly the zeitgeist of the baby sports community.

World League Baby Racing shouldn't be confused with the American Baby Racing Association, which has gone underground after one of the competitors tested positive for steroids. It took 3 judges and a trank gun to bring that baby down. Spectators present during that race agreed that if she hadn't been subdued, she would have crawled right through the wall and probably beat up on a some drifter in the parking lot. After that ugly scene, baby racers had to lay low and wait for international competitions to compete in.

Mexican baby racing has seen it's share of difficulties as well, which is apparently held on the U.S.-Mexico border. Winner gets a green card and a life of opportunity, while losers get a free lunch and a bus ride back home. Some claim the only real losers are the hardworking American tax-payers.

The World League has strict regulations and promises a system to keep it's competitors clean. This is THE sport of the future dear sports fan. Unfazed gladiators, proudly mounted upon their strollers, riding into packed warehouses full of roaring revelers like they were chariots bursting through the doors of the Roman Colloseum. If horse racing is the sport of kings, baby racing is the sport of sovereign nations willing to turn a blind eye on infant exploitation. The pure, unsullied sport of tiny, tiny champions. It's all the rage with babies and toddlers in the 6 to 15 month crowd. For them it falls directly into the spectrum of awesomeness somewhere between SpongeBob and shiny things.

How do you train these miniature athletes? Most parents of competitors agree that babies need the proper motivation. To excel at such a competitive sport. Some parents have strict training regiments that their babe atarts the first day he or she hit's the delivery room floor. Other simply bring noise makers or objects to shake in front of their child in order to draw attention to the finish line. Things like car keys, spoons, empty whiskey bottles, air horns and in some cases just idle threats about going home a winner or going home to a local orphanage.

This years favorite was Irish born Sheamus McShay aka "The Red Lightning." Stories of his amazing feats of strength varied. Some said he was a merely wives tale, a baby fraud, an old wives tale that parents told their children to hype them up before an important race. Others say he is such an angry and determined competitor, while in the birthing room of a Dublin hospital, he was so tenacious that his mother didn't need a C-section, he simply punched his way out of the womb.

Odds makers were paying 3:1 on baby Sheamus, but McShay's father wasn't so sure his son was the clear favorite. "I dunno if meh bahby's got the mooooves," said the concerned father. "I'm fahley blitzed reaght new. I'm not evehn sssshure if that's the reaght beby."

But, McShay had an ace in up sleeve. McShay had brought a secret weapon to waive at his baby to coax him to the finish line.

"Adoptian pehpehrs. If he doon't cohm home a wihnner, he doon't cuhm home t'all."

Serious words from a very serious man. Neglecting to win is one thing, but neglecting to leave it all out on the track is simply unacceptable. And neglecting you children…well that for the courts to decide.

McShay may have had reason to be worried. This video shows why.

YO ADRIAN!!!!!!!!!!!!
Look at that face people. That is the future of sports staring you right in the face with it's chubby cheeks and limited motor skills. Million Dollar Baby isn't just a movie about women's boxing anymore! Baby racing is what this world is all about. These tiny athletes will not lay queitly about in their caged cribs and be denied the chance to compete any longer! They will cry and scream and throw tantrums like you have never witnessed to compete in the sport that they so dearly love.

The children.

The children are our future. And what type of people would we be if we chose not to bet on our future?

I won't deny the future leaders of the world the chance to shine early and often. I'm not ashamed to say that I not only advocate World Baby Racing, but that I also degenerately gamble on it's outcome. I've got 7 G's riding on baby Sheamus to place. I haven't had this much fun betting on the outcome of a race since thy stopped letting the monkeys ride the "little ponies." Sport of the FUTURE people and that future is now.

And for all you children reading this article, who live in impoverished third world countries and spend your whole lives toiling away in some factory, dreaming of one day coming to America and striking it rich...

Get back to work! Baby Sheamus' Nikes aren't going to sew themselves! I've got a lot of money

Isiah Thomas, Jim Dolan and Larry Bird all walk into a bar....

Isiah Thomas, Jim Dolan and Larry Bird all walk into a bar. If you think it sounds like a joke, you'd be right, I mean just look at their respective track records. After we heard about the Knick's owner Dolan having a preference to keep Isaiah intact as coach, we envisioned how Jim would break the news to Isiah without committing hara-kiri. Of course as Knicks fans know, no one in New York can bear to stand talking about the oft faltering team unless they're at a bar...

Dolan: Bartender, a glass of Merlot please.

Isiah: You buying Jim?

Dolan: No sir, I only take care of salaries and sexual harassment lawsuits. Ha ha, but seriously, no.

Isiah: I'm glad you still have confidence in me, I was getting worried I was gonna have to start looking for a new job.

Dolan: Hey your still in the play-off run, which is mind boggling figuring we're on a blistering pace to win no more than 23 games. (sigh) 23 games.

Isiah: Gotta love the Eastern conference.

Dolan: We've only won 20 games -- Barkeep, screw the glass just bring me the bottle!

Isiah: I got two words for how we're gonna turn this team around Jim.

Isiah: Tyler Hansbrough. The College Basketball Player of the Year. He's a sure thing Jim. Carolina is know for their spectacular white centers! Remember Eric Montros? Mitch Kupchak? Cherokee Parks!

Dolan: Kupchak, now there's another management genius. Wonder if we'll be able to bring him in if Bynum doesn't pan out? Wait, I think that last one is from Duke.

Isiah: They're all the same mold. Awesomely un-athletic Caucasian basketball royalty. It's like every team that ever played the Globetrotters--WE COULD BE THE TEAM THAT PLAYS THE GLOBETROTTERS JIM!

Jim: That would help attendance…and we might win more games… I dunno Isaiah, I think we'd be better off with someone like Beasly or Rose.

Isiah: OR, or--what about a tree. Like not a little one, like a big one, like an oak tree or a redwood. We'll plant it in the lane.

Dolan: That's what you said about Eddy Curry and that didn't seem to work out too well. However, I will say a tree may have a better vertical.

Isiah: The place is called "The Garden" Jim, people will eat it up. Hey there's Larry! Larry over here!

Dolan: (mumbling) Doesn't mean we should turn it into an arboretum…although that would help attendance. Jeez, who am I kidding the New York media would just end up hanging me from it.

Larry: Hey guys, I'm here on behalf of the Indiana Pacers, who sport the third best record of the Central Conference. That's right, winners of just a shade better than 40% of our games…

Dolan: Barkeep, I'm gonna need a shot of Belvedere…

Isiah: I was just telling Jim about my idea to play a tree at center.

Larry: Like Eddy Curry?

Isiah: No, like a big ass oak tree or even maybe one of those tall pine trees, like the one they have in the Times Square at Christmas. We need a big mother to stop Dwight Howard.

Larry: French Lick had great trees…I'll give you a second round pick and Jermaine O'Neal for this tree you speak of.

Dolan: Really, a pine tree? I'm gonna spend 30 mil for a pine tree? Like the one at Stanford?

Isiah: I hadn't even thought of that! Jim you're a genius. With the third pick of the 2008 NBA draft, the New York Knicks select, the Stanford mascot!

Jim: …And then they carpet bomb my house. Barkeep, you know what, no more wine, just mix up anything clear behind the bar in a bucket and throw a straw in it.

Larry: Heck, we got a guy named Travis Diener, ever heard of him?

Isiah: No

Larry: Either have I, but he runs the point in Indiana now. Drafted him at some point, I don't remember when. That's been our draft strategy of late, draft players no ones heard of and then nobody can be disappointed.

Dolan: Wait, we worked hard for our pick this year! I mean, uh, well, we tried to wor--well it just seems like an important pick. Too important to draft a tree.

Larry: I personally think that's a phenomenal decision. I would try and follow your footsteps, but the Pacers are moving in a new direction. We don't seem to be good at playing basketball anymore, so, well, we're turning the Pacers into a Fight Club.

Isiah: Now see that's a good idea. That's great, I mean I can't remember the Pacers being relevant since that night Artest punched the guy in the second row. See that's a GM for you. You're thinking outside the box Legend.

Larry: Yeah, we've got some real strict rules though, so don't tell anyone I told you. Gonna try and get Artest back and bring Bill Laimbeer out of retirement. Like our new slogan says "If you can't beat'em on the basketball court, beat'em in the parking lot on the way out." Or even in the stands cause we've really been struggling with a way to get the fans back involved.

Isiah: Nothing like a fist fight to get the people to start caring again. That's always been New York fan's motto.

Dolan: Bartender get me a bottle of Chivas and a funnel!

Isiah: You know I called Michael Jordan the other day to see who the Bobcats were gonna draft and he said something interesting. They don't even have a draft strategy, they just take the whoever is on the cover of Sports Illustrated at the beginning of college basketball season or the best available UNC undergrad.

Larry: So that's why they took Adam Morrison 3rd overall last year.

Isiah: They said he was the next you Larry.

Larry: Yeah, he's the white version of Larry Bird.

Isiah: You're white Larry.

Larry: But I didn't play like it. Plus I could rebound, run the floor, create space, pass, shoot the ball at better than 38%…

Dolan: And your mustache only made you look vaguely like a sexual predator.

Larry: Yessir.

Isiah: I think we picked Renaldo Balkman by pulling his name out of a hat.

Larry: We drafted Shawne Williams that draft.

Isiah: Who?

Larry: Exactly!

Dolan: Bartender bring me a gas can and a plastic bag to put over my head.

Isiah: I dunno Larry, maybe we're doing something wrong here. Maybe, we'd be better off just fishing or playing golf somewhere.

Larry: And just walk away from being a part of professional basketball?

Dolan: Impossible, you aren't a part of professional basketball because you don't play in the Western Conference.

Larry: Maybe it's just best if former NBA players just stay off the benches and out of the front office.

Isiah: I'll call Jordan and tell him if you call McHale.

Larry: Maybe we should all get a show on the NBA network?

Isiah: What about that high school girls team that's lost like all it's games the past few years. I mean that has to be the perfect situation for someone like me cause they're used to losing.

Dolan: Barkeep, as much crack as you can fit into a highball glass and a pack of matches.

Isaiah: Ahh, who am I kidding. I've got a great job! The owner still wants me around, right Jim?

Dolan: Yeah, but Donnie Walsh might not.

Isiah: Should I be worried? Maybe saving my money?

Dolan: I wouldn't buy any shoes that were more than the new Starbury's.

Isiah: Ha! I hate that guy. Spending $15 bucks on an over the hill shoes is still too much for me. That'd be a horrible financial mistake.

Dolan: You should be used to that by now…Check Please!