Saturday, September 30, 2006

Arena details from the Maloofs

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Let the Jokes Begin

by SonDog

So, TO tries to kill himself, then says he didn't try to kill himself, then blames his publicist for over-reacting, then says he was "pretty out of it." Hmmm, what to do.

I know... Let's crack jokes...

So, is TO going to intentionally try to get hit by a middle linebacker over the middle now?

Is he going to accidentally fall into Bill Parcells man-boobs, thereby suffocating himself?

Remember that scene in the Last Boy Scout where Billy Cole pulls a gun from his pants and starts firing rounds at other players, then turns the gun on himself and says, "Aint life a bitch?" Is he going to do that? And did you know that Billy Cole is Billy Blanks, the Tai Bo guy?

I can't wait to watch T.O play next. Somewhere in Philly, Jeff Garcia and Donovan McNabb are high-fiving each other and fed-exing their unused percocets to TO's house.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Hairy Weasel

posted by BH

From a story in Reuters:

"Three years into war, the American people still don't have a clear picture of what's gone wrong in Iraq -- or how to set it right," said Senate Democratic leader Harry Reid of Nevada.

Hey. Douchebag. I don't have to have a clear picture of what's going wrong in Iraq. Have you heard of representative democracy? It's this crazy thing where you, or presumably someone a little more interested in the betterment of my country rather than the welfare of the party, make decisions in my place so that I can try to make a living, because it's hard for me to get to Washington each day in order to debate decisions of national importance. Also, the picture may not be clear, but it's not as though there's a lack of information. I mean, aren't we constantly hearing about those things that have gone wrong in Iraq? I would also suggest we still don't have a clear picture of what's gone right. Finally, are you really interested in clearing things up? If that's your intention, then I have greatly misjudged you, Mr. Reid. I don't think I have though. I think maybe you've noticed that Bush's numbers have started climbing and you're in shit-yourself mode, having recognized that you might be in charge when the Democrats don't make the Senate and House strides that have been all but guaranteed.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Fantasy or Reality?

by SonDog

I've always considered myself a serious NFL fan. While I enjoy baseball and basketball to a greater extent than football, I've always appreciated and enjoyed the tingling sensation in the loins that comes on Sunday morning during that period between sleep and the first cup of coffee. You know, during that time when all you can think about is football.

When I was a kid, I couldn't wait to turn on the CBS or NBC pregame shows. I vividly remember Brent Musberger and Jimmy "The Furman!" Snyder chatting away about the day's slate and the important names you needed to know. The music, the corny computer-generated graphics (like the GIGANTIC graphic that would say BRENT MUSBERGER, CBS SPORTS), O.J. reporting from the Buffalo sidelines in frigid conditions (I still love his Naked Gun character, by the way)... I loved it all.

Ah yes, a time of innocence, when all men were created equal and race rarely entered into the conversation... er, wait.

It was a simpler time when 150 players compiled a complete set of Topps football cards. You pretty much knew the lead running back, starting QB, number 1 receiver, and maybe the tight end for each team. For your team of choice (the 49ers for me), you knew most of the players. You would know your team's obscure names like Wendell Tyler or Russ Francis or Jeff Stover or Bubba Paris. But for the other teams? There was no need.

I would get excited to see highlights of stars like the Dolphins trio of Dan Marino, Mark Duper and Mark Clayton; or Eric Dickerson running like a gazelle in a Rams or a Colts uni; or Mike Singeltary and The Fridge dominating defensively in Chicago; or Jim "Don't Call me Chris" Everett tossing passes to Henry Ellard, or just going ballistic on the Jim Rome show.

I consider those days a time of innocence. They were beautiful and uncomplicated.

Then came fantasy football.

If you would have told me five years ago that I would be solicitous in studying the New Orleans Saints wide receiver depth chart, I would have told you that to do so I would have to be living in New Orleans. Otherwise, there would be no need.

Like I said, then came fantasy football.

Suddenly, the injury report is critical to my sanity. I mean, I probably know more about the extent of T.J. Houshomozoode's heel injury than any sane man not related to him should. I know more about Michael Vick's playing weight than I know about my own son's birth weight. If for some reason I play in injured player, Mondays might as well be reserved for a funeral.

The dynamic between quarterback and third-down running back has more importance than my retirement fund. I spend countless hours scouring the waiver wire looking for bargains that could put my teams over the top. The words "sleeper" and "upside" are more commonly used in my vernacular than words like "I should" and "pay my bills."

It's more complex watching football than ever before. I swear they should be teaching a class on this stuff in college. And by "they" I mean the geniuses who invented this game.

Today, I'll be reading up on all the injury reports. My NFL Ticket is set and ready to go with all of the days games. (By the way, there are a couple of channels on NFL Ticket that were delivered straight to the network by Jesus himself. Take, for example, the NFL Game Mix channels, where you can watch 8 games at the same time. It's one of the sexiest things I've seen in my life.)

My wife thinks I'm insane, but I can live with that. If it means she is too scared to talk to me on Sundays, then all the better. In fact, she's decided to take Jackson with her to Oktoberfest in Vail Village today just to get away from me. I think she's looking out for Jackson's sanity as well. That is, unless she wants his first word to be "sleeper."

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Random NFL Thoughts

by SonDog

-- The Raiders looked like a horrific football team. Aaron Brooks might as well have been a tackling dummy for the Chargers defense. Lamont Jordan coudn't get anything going behind an offensive line that was stuck in cement. I'm having serious second and third-thoughts about selecting Randy Moss in the third round of one of my Yahoo! fantasy teams. He and Jordan are the only two players resembling talent on that offense.

-- The reason I picked LT over Larry Johnson in my ESPN fantasy leagues is because of Kansas City's offensive line. The loss of Willie Roaf is going to hurt that team (particularly Johnson) more than some people think. Plus, from what I've read, Johnson is an egomaniac and I can't stand him.

-- I can't wait until T.O. goes T.O. all over Bledsoe after Drew pulls one of his famous Bledsoe maneuvers. Great idea pairing these two together, Jerry Jones. Real men of Genius: Mr. Really Bad Toupe Wearer.

Since I'm discussing the Cowboys, I would like to personally thank the Dallas defense for screwing me over last week.

-- Is it just me, or as a 49er fan does Antonio Bryant scare you a little bit? If you haven't done so, read some of his quotes this week regarding the first half of the Cardinal game on Sunday. In short, he suggests... no, blatantly states that he wanted to challenge Alex Smith to a fight by halftime because he didn't have any catches in the first half. Um, Antonio? You know you have never been that good, right? You know that the Browns... the FUCKING BROWNS didn't feel compelled to re-sign you, right? Just checking.

-- On that same subject, while I love their talent, I would not let Vernon Davis and Bryant hang out with one another without adult supervision.

-- Baltimore: Offensive powerhouse or one-week wonder? I choose the later.

-- I am in too many fantasy leagues. It's taking over my life and my wife is starting to get scared.

-- Speaking of which, I somehow wound up with Randy McMichael in all three leagues. I would like to thank him for hauling in 1 catch for 10 yards. That was so awesome.

My Son

by SonDog

Here is Jackson, for those who want to know what he looks like...

Friday, September 01, 2006

Known as, The Balls

by SonDog

If you are an Anchorman fan, and a college football fan, this, quite possibly, is the funniest thing you will ever read... in your life.

Speaking of college football, I'll be watching the Cal Golden Bears dismantle Tennessee tomorrow with my buddies Ryan and Reed. Why will I be with Ryan and Reed? Because Ryan and Reed are both from Tennessee and I thoroughly look forward to the shit-talking while Lynch and Forssett run roughshod over the Volunteers (Editor's Note: Of equal importance is the fact that Reed has a pretty sweet HD system... and Ryan and Reed live in the same condo complex as I do... meaning they are within stumbling distance of my house... and it's about the farthest my leash extends from my wife and infant at the current time).

At any rate, I'm not what one would call a huge college football fan, but I am a front-runner and a fan of the bandwagon. Since Cal is currently ranked #9 in the country, I'll cheer them on like a glorious Berkeley alum. If they fall out of the top 25, I will say that I wasn't really a fan. This is the extent of my college football "passion." I will also steadfastly deny ever writing this.