Put your arm down, dumbfuck!

Dan Uggla, after his 9th-inning grand slam to put the Marlins past Philadelphia. 

You're excited, I know.  But raising your arm while rounding the bases following a home run, any home run, possibly excluding one that just brought you back from three down in the 9th to win the series, is super douchy.  

Three things you should never do whilst playing sports:

1) Pump your fists a la Tiger Woods, Derek Jeter, Rafael Nadal.  Super douchy.

2) Kick your opponent in the balls.  Super douchy.

3) Raise your arm in celebration as you round the bases following a home run.

  

Smug fuckface says dumb thing...

David Stern, responding to Tim Donaghy's assertion that the outcome of Game 6 of the 2002 Lakers/Kings series was directed by officials, 

NBA commissioner David Stern said the Justice Department had fully investigated the most recent Donaghy's claims, which he labeled as "baseless."

Really?  Really?  Remember watching the game?  Actually watching the game is a base.  Remember all of us talking conspiracy?  Bbbbase.  Remember that Ralph Nader letter?  You guessed it.  I've been off the NBA since that game.  Seriously.  WWmothafuckingE.  That nonsense was a travesty.  Never before in any sporting event did I feel so wronged; so helpless.  As fans, there is an emotional investment in our teams.  When our team loses there is hurt.  When our team loses when the contest is not on the level, then there is little reason to invest.  The NBA line involves dismissive slough about Donaghy trying to save himself.  How does this save him?  That Donaghy throws it out there six years later out of the blue should give his assertions some credibility.  

Yeah, there's no bias

Guy A: 4 1/3 IP, 3 R, 2 ER, 1 BB, 5 K, 1 HR 

ESPN.com headline - (Guy A) goes 4-plus innings to help (Guy A's team) dump (perennial basementeer).  

Guy B: 5.0 IP, 3 ER, 4 BB, 2 K, 1 HR 

ESPN.com headline - (Guy B) struggles but emerges with (not to be disclosed at this time) win of season.

Guy A = Joba Chamberlain

Guy B = Barry Zito

The worst part of it all is that the "WWL" actually had "Joba" in the headline, rather than "Chamberlain."  Fuck, I get it.  He's a hot semi-prospect pitching in New York, and it's hard to expect the MSM to really choose a Zito win over a Chamberlain no-decision, but. come. on.  The giant Yankee cock-fondle is absurd.  The headline on ESPN.com's front page (!) reads, "Joba posts solid start as Yanks down K.C."  There are so many things wrong about the dichotomy regarding coverage.  In how many cases is a pitcher who doesn't pitch long enough to qualify for a win and leaves the game with his team trailing considered helping the team?  In how many cases is an effort that did not even reach quality start status considered solid?  I guess when he looked like a runny turd his last time out.  Seriously, the headline reads, "Joba goes 4-plus innings to help Yankees dump Royals."  Had he gone 4-plus in relief, I might buy the whole thing.  Hey, did you know Joba plays for the Yankees?  Did you know he wears a crown of thorns?  Did you know Jim Caviezel played him in a movie once?  

You can sure as shit bet had Zito lost there'd have been some snarking bullshit about getting to 10 losses quicker than Ol' Lefty "Always Loses" McIntyre back in 1894.  I know that there is a marked difference in each pitcher's game and what they mean to their teams.  Zito is a weight.  Chamberlain is the future.  He certainly had a pitch count and maybe could have gone 17 innings while wearing a hula-hoop.  It was a much better start than his last outing.  But Jesus, can't we expect at least some effort to pretend sports coverage to the left of the Mississippi isn't the equivalent of the Florida and Michigan delegates at the DNC?  

Jeremy Shockey talks to the media about keeping talks in-house

Yeah, I guess it's what we've come to expect, right?  It's not only Shockey that does the 'I'm going to talk through the media to tell you I'm not going to talk through the media,' thing.  It seems to happen a lot.  I dated this girl for a while who, upon becoming angry with me, would say something mean, leave or hang-up the phone, hoping I'd call back in some grovely fashion.  Jeremy Shockey is that girlfriend.

The statement I would like to make about the Giants and the speculation in the offseason is that whatever happens between the upper management, lower management, the owners, any management, is going to (stay) between ourselves," the six-year veteran said yesterday at a promotional appearance at Flushing Meadows Corona Park. "Unlike the Giants, I am going to be quiet. They have released multiple things about myself, and if you look back into the media (reports), there is always a source. Well, I would like to know who the source is.

"I haven't said one negative thing towards the Giants in the newspapers," he added. "I have never expressed the feelings of the things that you guys (the media) made up. You guys will be able to talk to me (more) if I make it to minicamp."

Haysus H. Christo, fuckinga douchebag.  Seriously, there must be a thousand metaphors for the rampant douchebaggery here.  "I'm the big man, and I'm not gonna complain, but man they've mistreated me."  You know how in almost every major sports fight, one guy makes a tough show when approaching the other combatant, yet can be pulled away and restrained by the smallest guy on the court/field? 

That's Jeremy Shockey.  

I love this

After Cedric Benson's second alcohol-related arrest in just over a month, Bears coach Lovie Smith, 

said he was inclined to give Benson the benefit of the doubt "like everyone else in society gets."

I think even Lovie knows he's full of shit on this one, what with playing the woe-is-the-professional-athlete-in-the-limelight schtick and the fact that the offender was one Cedric Benson.    

Mixed bag of schadenfreude

Is it wrong to root against seeing Big Brown win today's Belmont Stakes and thus the Triple Crown, solely because of the captain of the Battledouche Dickknuckle, Rick Dutrow?  No, I say, no it is not for two immediate reasons.  

1) It's hard to root for the loudmouth, yet easy to root against one.  The loudmouth seemingly devoid of any humility is worse, but the loudmouth devoid of humility despite every reason in the world to actually at least have an inkling of an iota of an idea about the concept is the worst of the worst.  And that's Rick Dutrow, who has a knack for juicing his horses, Big Brown included, and, on occasion, himself.  But Dutrow is clean, as are his horses to a lesser extent, supposedly having only been given steroids that have not been banned.  There's something about the recovering addict, cheater, philander, convict, etc., who acts like he or she never was that pisses most of us off.  It's as though despite normal society, that is, those who accept and play by a collection of social norms, having let him back in, there has been no reflection.  No, "shit I'm lucky they still let me do this."  When that happens, you get Rick Dutrow.  "This is about Big Brown, not what I did 15 years ago," Dutrow says.  Bullshit, I say.  It is about what he did 15 years ago because he has made it about what he did 15 years ago.  Because he still acts like a brash, who-gives-a-fuck-what-you-think trash clown, and that's not okay.  I'd rather hear something like, "You know, this is a good horse and he's run all his races well.  I'm lucky to be in a position to train such an amazing and gifted horse," as opposed to, in referring to Casino Drive, who is now out of the race, "He's got no chance of beating our horse.  I'll be in the winner's circle when they get to the quarter pole. That's how I feel. I don't see that this horse can beat him."  Really?  You really had to go the extra nut-shot mile and throw in that say the "quarter pole" thing?  That's why you're hateable.  You're a fat slimy douche.  That's how I feel.  I'll be standing in the non-douche winner's circle while you're still in the non-douche starting gate trying to get on your horse.  

2) NBC insists on putting a camera in Dutrow's red, sweaty face after each win.             

Kookoo for Coco Crap

Awesome night for Boston douchebaggery.

Rule #1 after you've gotten your ass kicked in a fight: Say the other guy fought unfair.  Like, he "pulled my hair," "bum-rushed me," or the ultimate douchebag sucker-punch nut shot, "fought like a girl."  There is something overwhelming lame about a guy who stands before the media, the way Coco Crisp did after the Rays-Sox brawl,  trying to sell his story to the unbelievers.  "Ooh, you didn't see what really happened...it happened under the pile and they were diiirty...that's the real story here...not that I couldn't actually handle myself and left shitstains all over the infield."  It all feels very, I don't know, Wal-Mart lunchroom trashy.  Tony LaRussa slimy.  Too much effort to shape opinion.

And please, fucking please stop mentioning Willis Reed and Paul Pierce in the same breath.  Here's why:

"Reed's most famous performance took place on May 8, 1970, during Game 7 of the NBA Finals against the Los Angeles Lakers in Madison Square Garden. Despite a severe thigh injury - a torn muscle - he started the game in front of a thrilled audience and scored the Knicks' first two field goals on his first two shot attempts."  

Torn fucking muscle.  Not "right knee sprain."  That Pierce came back so hoppy and bouncy give some real indication about that nature of his exit and return?  Like "right knee sprain" could be trainer/PR guy code for "Shit, uh, nothing really happened here."  He didn't play through anything.  He didn't overcome anything.  He was off the court for 1:45.  Come on would-be drama clowns.  Legendary?  Shut the fuck up.  

2008 MHR MLB Draft Coverage

Remember when you watched CBS's presentation of EliteXC and thought, "This looks like WWE shit compared to UFC"?  Welcome to MLB's coverage of the 2008 draft.  

I made the mistake of turning on coverage at 10 to find some clown douche trying to rile up the Disney World crowd.  Fuck, dude.  

Mock Negro League draft.  Prolooooooonged.  

Clowndouche again attempting to rile the crowd.  Clowndouche is introducing each team's draft representative(s).  Fuuuuuuuuuck.  Get to the draft.  I like that J.T. Snow and Felipe Alou are there for the Giants.  Didn't JT hate Felipe when he played for him?  I could be wrong about that.  Harold Reynolds representing Seattle is priceless.  There's a Zim sighting for Tampa Bay.

Okay, on to the draft.  No analysis from me.    

I think Peter Gammons just called Josh Hamilton an "All-American guy," though I don't know if he meant he was an All-American as an amateur, or like Captain America/David Eckstein.  He may have said "All-American story," but I'm watching this online without the ability to rewind.  How come black guys never get that designation?  I guess black players get to be "instinctive" while white players are "gamers" and "All-American."  Obviously, the idea that Hamilton has succeeded despite some hardship is fucking crazy batshit absurd, but oh well.  

Karl Ravech says Gordon Beckham has "literally" been moving up the charts.  Sweet.

Bud Selig says the "Los Angel-eez Dodgers" are on the clock.  You are a boob, Bud.  Boob Bud?  

I've sort of lost interest.  Giants don't pick again until #37, I think.  Meh.  I'm thrilled that Posey was there for them at #5.