With the new season due to start in just a few weeks, I hereby cordially invite you all to join my Fanstasy Football League, 'The Premiershit'.
You can register at http://fantasy.premierleague.com
Once you have logged in and entered your team, click on the 'Leagues'
link you can find on the right of the page. Now enter the code
84045-96702 to join the private league.
Recently, the world was marvelling at the antics of the Belarusian Drunk Referee. This wasn't the first time a football match official has made a fool of himself though, and here's a clip to prove it.
Sadly, it doesn't include the classic Graham Poll incident, but you can't have everything, can you?
Continuing what appears to be fast becoming a running theme here at Sportsbastards, here's a clip of China's Under-23 Olympic team and their 'friendly' against English side QPR, which quickly descended into chaos. There's even a few flying kicks in there for good measure.
It's ironic, perhaps, that as a QPR boot flies into an opponent player's face, the last thing he might see are three simple words: 'Made in China'.
Ahh, the pine tar incident never ceases to get a laugh out of me. One of Bobby Murcer's most famous calls came 25 years ago yesterday (because I fell asleep and didn't post this on the right day), when George Brett absolutely lost his mind in one of the best-known baseball incidents of the last quarter-century.
Alright, people. While Ron's whoring out to others, I figure I'll write for your amusement. So, what's news....
NEW RULES
Yes, these are coming out to you hard and fast, like a Rick Majorn shove to the she-man, Lisa Leslie.
1. Ricardo Ricco - Nice one, fuckstick. You were rated as the upset special for the Tour de Frog... I mean France. And instead you get to be a 2nd rate Floyd Landis. New rule, for those who were a bit slow. Ricardo Ricco = half ass cheater.
2. Brett Favre - Accept the fact that you're not going to Minnesota or any "good" team. In other words, Buffalo or bust, fucker!
3. C.C. Sabathia - Proving a good pitcher paired with a fat fuck vegan named Prince equals a decent team, especially for a city known for drinking.
One of the best things Title IX has done for athletics is now women athletes can be just as stupid, immature, and boorish as their male counterparts! Except of course that this fight doesn't spill into the stands and cause a riot, if only because the stands are empty enough that the hundreds of fans in attendance could easily just walk away from the fighting players. Alternately, they could take a page from Rick Mahorn's book and just toss gangly women around like James Brown at a coke party.
Just consider that only a few years ago, this very same venue, The Palace at Auburn Hills, was the host of a riot that changed the face of the NBA completely. Now maybe, just maybe, this brawl will be the thing that pushes the WNBA from a mere tax write off to a legitimate sporting event with fan attendance in the 5 digits. At the very least, if it gives the excellent Candace Parker some exposure, it's worth the public image hit.
Having seen Ron's last post, of a couple of sports people having a bit of disagreement, I was reminded of a similar difference of opinion that happened at the 1995 Rugby World Cup. The two parties involved were the Canadian team and the South African team, and their dispute began when one of the South African players took exception to one of the Canadian players putting his fist in his face. Or perhaps it was the other way round...
One of Danica Patrick's resolutions this year was to be less of a whiny baby while out on the race track. Of course, despite winning a race this year, she's still crying entirely too much. Not only that, she's crying AND confronting her problem drivers head on still (though she's learned to stop hitting them now). This time, she's picking on a driver who is closer to her size, Milka Duno.
Ahem. In the immortal words of Joey Styles: CATFIIIGHT!
So, in his battle between race-car vixend, who you got? Venezuelan beauty Milka Duno, with her four masters' degrees and litany of first wins for a woman and/or Hispanic woman in a variety of races, or All-American girl Danica, the Queen Bitch of the IRL with the incredibly annoying website?
Dear Mr Chambers, Britain's answer to Ben Johnson,
Having heard that you failed in your bid to get your lifetime Olympic ban overturned, I thought you might like to get my opinion on the matter. Firstly, I have three words for you, Dwain:
Ha, ha, and ha.
Anyway, let's look at your case, shall we? You argued that the ban was an unfair restriction on trade, which is true. Apart from the unfair bit. In fact, the ban is completely justified, since you broke the rules in order to give yourself an advantage over fellow athletes. Is that fair? Are all the other athletes taking performance-enhancing drugs as well? ... actually, maybe that's not such a good point.
Regardless of what you did, Dwain, the most important thing to remember is that you got caught. Once you've been found out, you should bow your head in shame, take whatever punishment you're due, and keep your mouth shut. You shouldn't try to weasel your way back in when no one wants you any more.
To further drill things into your enormous, horse-like cranium, let's use an analogy. Let's say you're a doctor (god forbid), and you're in the habit of touching up your lady patients. As a result, you're rightly struck off and can no longer practice medicine. Should you go to prison for a bit, and then be banned from being a doctor again, or should you go to the courts, decrying the system and claiming that your trade is being unfairly restricted? I’ll give you a clue: you can put away your stethoscope, because you won’t be needing it for a very long time.
I laughed so hard I cried. Seriously. How this took so long to make it to the internet I'll never know, but it's absolutely brilliant once Paul Hornung nearly sends Ditka flailing off the stage. I don't think they make roast bloopers any funnier than this.
Yet another SKIPB award, and this one’s a joint offering, compliments of myself and SB’s own Rich, who is currently hiding out in Arlington Stadium in his new role as Josh Hamilton’s stalker while waiting on the next coming of Nolan Ryan.
Today’s award is a two-fer, dedicated both to a player and his devotedly pathetic following. The player really needs no introduction, especially since he’s been the topic of just about every form of football-related media for the past few days. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you:
Mr. Brett Favre—talented QB, heartburn sufferer (and cause, if you probably ask any of the Packers management)--and now, big, fat, whiny crybaby.
Best Wishes, Billy Packer. You Don't Have To Go Home, But You Can't Stay On CBS
I hate to be that guy, but I absolutely cannot stand Billy Packer so I won't be terribly sad to see him not cluttering up my screen during March Madness. With his ACC suck-off tendencies, his dismissal of legitimate mid-major teams like George Mason, and his blatant old-fartism, his knowledge of the game was second only to his ability to piss me off and take the fun out of sports. That said, it is going to be weird watching CBS hoops without Billly Packer.
It'll be like watching an ESPN game and not having Dick Vitale screaming at me. Interesting how Billy and Dick are two of the most polarizing figures in basketball broadcasting today. One, because he plainly loves the game just a little too much to be completely sane, and the other because he used to love the game, but now seems to take extreme joy in being a stick in the mud with no sense of fun.
Now we're all safe to go back to talking about that other Packer who can't stop unretiring.
In March, about two months after losing an NFC Championship game in Lambeau, we assumed that Favre was finished. He had a teary eyed press conference, stated that he had given his all and had nothing left. There were some skeptics, having been through this before with the NFL's equivalent of that girlfriend who's one foot in, one arm, shoulder, head and leg out. That person who is never certain on anything other than the fact that he's just 'not certain'. But for the most part, it came and went with few very much expecting this was the end of Favre in football as we knew it. So we skip ahead, past the Draft where the Pack drafted a rookie to presumably backup Mister Rodgers in what we all believed to be HIS neighborhood now that Favre is gone. Well...
Belarus, in the depths of Eastern Europe, is a country famous for... er... not much really, apart from a being a bit too close to Chernobyl. However, it now has a new claim to fame, as home of the world's most inebriated match official, Sergei Shmolik. Here he is in all his glory, refereeing a Belarusian league game. Initially, it was thought he was suffering from back pain, but hospital tests revealed large amounts of alcohol in his body. To be fair, if I had to referee a Belarusian football match, I think I'd probably start taking crack.
Tony Jaa Is Not Impressed With Your Cartwheel Kick
R.I.P. Bobby Murcer, 1946-2008
The Yankees universe is a little smaller today: Bobby Murcer, former Yankees player and longtime broadcaster, lost his battle with cancer today at the age of 62. A five-time All-Star and a Gold Glove winner, he played a total of 12 1/2 seasons with the Yankees between 1965 and 1983, with time in the military, the San Francisco Giants and the Chicago Cubs along the way. His final game was as a member of the Yankees on June 11, 1983. He became a broadcaster for the Yankees after his retirement from baseball, winning three Emmys for his stellar work. He was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor on Christmas Eve, 2006. Surgery to remove it was successful, and a subsequent biopsy in 2008 revealed only scar tissue. At the time of his passing, he was resting up for an expected return to broadcasting for spring training of 2009.
Thoughts and prayers go out to his wife (and high-school sweetheart) of 42 years, Diana Kay Murcer and his family. Bobby Murcer was a class act, and I was one of the privileged many who got to enjoy listening to his broadcasts and share with him his great love for the Yankees. His autobiography, recently released, is entitiled, "Yankee for Life", and that pretty much sums him up to a certain extent. Despite his cancer, his death comes as a bit of a shock because it appeared after the results of his biopsy were announced that he had managed to beat the disease. It saddens me to no end to know that I will never get to hear him call another Yankees game again. Somewhere, I'm hoping he and Phil Rizzuto can find a good game to call.
Sepp Blatter, FIFA's official Idiot-in-chief, has once again put his foot in it, by announcing that Manchester United are treating Ronaldo like a slave, by refusing to sell him to Real Madrid. Seriously, what the hell has it got to do with him anyway? For a man with such huge responsibility, this seems deeply unprofessional to me. Also, how does paying someone thousands of pounds a week to kick a ball have anything in common with slavery? If it did, Kunta Kinte would have been shouting "Toby" in no time.
If anyone at FIFA is reading this, please, please, please sack this useless tub of shit, for the sanity of us all.
Alright, it's the first of the month (get up, get up, get up, cash your checks and get on...) and I'm sorry. That Bone Thugs song kinda got stuck in my noggin, which segues beautifully into the first half of this piece I'm gonna spew on about...the Cavaliers. You know how they say you should never look a gift horse in the mouth? Why are the Cavs not only looking it in the mouth, but trying to figure out new and innovative ways to screw up its grill in the process? I mean, 2003, they're given LeBron James to resurrect basketball in this beleaguered sports town. Which to some degree, moreso than other more talented teams before him...he has done. But only the Cavs can look at this and say, "yeah, he got us to the Finals but the squad he used blew. I know! Let's get this thing shaken up by trading away pieces he was reasonably happy with and get some real bums in here." before trading away two starters from the former Eastern Conference Champions to get back...
Well, the Draft has come and gone. The NBA one and well, much to discuss. Now, I said I was gonna do this differently and I shall. I'm not handing out "grades" when the only thing folks are going off of is what was done IN COLLEGE and not on the pro court against uh...I guess we may as well say college style defenses since zone's okay now. What I will do is go according to two things...
Did a team fill a need with what they took and who took a want as opposed to a need.
Sports fans with an attitude, SportsBastards is a humorous take on the life-or-death struggle that is sports. It doesn't matter who wins or loses, but if they cover the spread.
