Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Naked chick: our first sighting in blogdom!

We're new to this blog thing ... really, just started this blog today. But there's a button up top that says "next blog." Apparently, if you click it, it randomly brings you to some random blog out there in cyberspace.

You think we're fucked, you should see some of the people out there in blogdom.

This is what I got the very first time I got up the gumption to click the "next blog" button a moment ago:

Warning: gratuitous photos (self-posted, apparently) of naked, 50-ish Italian woman!

Hall of Famers in this Super Bowl

Every good Super Bowl needs Hall of Famers, and XLI is no different. This one appears to be a bit low on star power, but in 15 years, we could say that we saw 10 Hall of Famers in Miami back in the old-school days of 20-aught-seven.


QB Peyton Manning, Colts:
Even if he suffers a career-ending injury on the first play Sunday, he's in.
LB Brian Urlacher, Bears: Win or lose, as long as Urlacher plays two or three more excellent years he's going to Canton. He might already be in.
WR Marvin Harrison: Already 1,000 catches. In.

K Adam Vinatieri: The Hall doesn't let kickers in (only George Blanda, who was also a QB). But Assuming Vinatieri is still kicking at 40 -- most good kickers do -- he's going to be a no-brainer. A memorable kick Sunday against the Bears, and he's pretty much a lock.


T Tarik Glenn, DE Dwight Freeney, WR Reggie Wayne, S Bob Sanders, Colts: If the Colts can win two or three Super Bowls, all of these guys have got a shot -- assuming they stay in Indy.
DT Tommie Harris (inactive), Bears: A force in the middle, but the Bears would have to have a real run of success for him to get the credit needed for a Hall spot.
C Olin Kreutz, Bears: A bit of a longshot, but he's a six-time Pro Bowler that still isn't 30.
Tony Dungy, Colts: A win Sunday would go a long way, and if he coaches until he's 60 (eight more years) he'll probably have 200 wins (122 so far).

RB Joseph Addai, DE Mark Anderson, RB Cedric Benson, QB Rex Grossman (that's right, I said Rex Grossman! It could happen!)

Rome intends to "slam a cold Heiny" in Miami

Classic Jim Rome just a moment ago: he's in Miami for the Super Bowl and said that, in honor of Jimmy Johnson, who granted Rome an interview yesterday, that he's going to "slam a cold Heiny" tonight.

Insert your favorite gay/frigid-chick joke here.

Jim Rome pretty much represents everything that's wrong about sports writing: he knows nothing, brings nothing to the table in terms of insight, and speaks slower than a retarded redneck on quaaludes.

Yet somehow, he rakes in big bucks with nationally broadcast TV & radio shows.

Somebody hates me.

Begging forgiveness

Jesus. I'm one blog entry into this and I already made a mistake. I said in a previous post that Lovie Smith won a Super Bowl with the Rams in 1999.

Nope. Lovie wasn't there until 2001, when he and Mike Martz got mind-f***ed by Bill Belichick and the Pats.

As penance, I offer the above home-made graphic of Don Knotts and Dwayne Wayne from "A Different World" as Jedi Knights.

Jimmy Johnson + Janis Joplin

Am I the only person who didn't know that Jimmy Johnson of football fame and Janis Joplin of rock 'n roll fame when to high school together in Port Arthur, Texas?

Apparently, Johnson used to call Joplin "beat weeds." His nickname, meanwhile, was Jimmy Jump-up ... turns out there are only eight letters in the Port Arthur alphabet, and every name must begin with J. It's kinda like Iceland that way.

Don't know what "beat weeds" means ... but it seems, like most "rockers," that she was quite the hippy outcast. He was probably a douche bag Texas HS football star.

Still, the hippies deserve all the misery they get.

Get a job, you friggin' bum.

Good riddance Sidney Sheldon.

Prolific author Sidney Sheldon died today at 89. Sure, he wrote tons of books and sitcoms like "I Dream of Jeannie" and rose from nothing out of the Depression.

But I, for one, say good riddance.

Here's why:

I read only classic novels ... you only have so much time on the planet and you want to hedge your bets. Basically, I don't want to devote a lot of time and emotion to books that may suck.

So, the few times I dabble in fiction, I limit myself to the classics ... the theory being that that odds are in my favor that it won't suck.

But one time I slipped, about 10 years ago, and read Sidney Sheldon's "The Doomsday Conspiracy." It was like an early ticket to Depends, mental failure and the other afflictions of old age we all have to look forward to.

I felt stupid for having read it. The entire book, kind of a sci-fi "thriller," unfolded like a Scooby-Doo episode where, at the end, we find out Old Man Dithers was behind the funny noises in the haunted house.

I vowed at that moment never to read anything bu the classics again and still lament the time Sheldon took from my life.

I hate you Sidney Sheldon.

What's the rule ...

... for eating Cheez-It crumbs out of the pocket of your hoodie?

I'm guessing they've only been there about 24 hours ... still pretty crunchy.

I think it's still OK to eat 'em.

Go Bears, but not cause I'm hatin'...

I learned so much in 2004. The Red Sox, after 86 years of heartbreak and tragedy, won the World Series. I yelled and jumped on the bar. I pumped my fist. I think I lost control of my bladder. Then about 2 weeks later, I just didn't give a shit about the Red Sox anymore.

They lost what had drawn me to them in the first place.. There was no sympathy. I loved the Red Sox because I identified with them. I'm sure that beyond my own lack of success and my seemingly endless montage of self-inflicted failures there's more to our bond, but I'll leave it at that.

I think the Colts, and more specifically, Peyton Manning stand to become far less interesting if they win. They'll be winners. Just another team that won the Superbowl. Instead of the tragic saps of the first 6 Manning playoff appearances..

I bet I'm not the only person who saw the movie "mean girls".. You know how when Lindsay Lohan rises into the cool clique? How all those who supported her felt she had changed and become what they hated?

Well, with all sincerity, I just don't want to lose one of us..

News flash: Tony Dungy and Lovie Smith are black

Has there been anything more uncomfortable in this postseason than watching Tony Dungy and Lovie Smith deal with this "first black head coach" business? Clearly, they take some pride in the accomplishment, but you can tell that neither man thinks it should be something in the spotlight. When Dungy (looking happy, right) was asked about it on CBS in the postgame celebration, he nodded knowingly: OK, I knew this was coming, I guess I better get used to it.

I mean, Lovie already has a Coach of the Year Award (not a Super Bowl ring with the Rams, as I previously wrote) and Dungy has a lifetime winning percentage of .635. I think that we're all aware that black head coaches can be successful in the NFL, and it's borderline racist to even bring it up. Maybe in 1994 this would have been a nice story (with music by Pearl Jam in the background), but now?

The fact that the "first black coach" angle is in the general media's top 2 or 3 (behind "Manning In the Big Game" and "Grossman Kinda Sucks" is embarrassing. This should have been a well-buried subplot, not a main attraction. Thank God for shut-ins like us, who spend countless hours in our unfinished basements turning out info like this.

The biggest culprits, of course, are the TV people, who have never met an obvious angle they didn't like, but there are print offenders as well.

Click for one idiot's take.

And, for balance, a non-idiot: Michael Smith.

Anyway, good luck to all in the big game.

May the best African American-coached team win.

Is Iron Mike Ditka a pussy?

I love Mike Ditka ...

He was one of the great tight ends in history. He won a championship as a player and as a coach. He nearly made the Cold, Hard Football Facts All-Time 11.

So why is Iron Mike’s name affiliated with the biggest pussy thing I've ever read?

Here’s the story:

I've been trying to reach the publicist at Ditka’s Restaurant in Chicago to get a neat recipe for Sunday ... it could make a great story for the CHFF that we can share with you, and maybe even for my other world at the Boston Herald. I haven’t heard back ... screw it then ... so I did a quick Google search and came across this recipe below for “Mike Ditka’s Official Tailgater’s Pork Chops.”

It looked pretty easy and pretty decent: marinated chops you can grill up in a few minutes. But then I found this suggestion at the end of the recipe:

“Serve with a soft Merlot. If you prefer a white, try a chilled Sauvignon Blanc.”

Why not just write, “remove both testicles and join Vienna boy's chior."

Grilled pork chops go with beer ... most food goes with beer. Even the best wine, compared to beer, is harsh, alcoholic, acidid, high in alcohol and often filled with headache-causing sulfites.

Here's my suggestion: eat these pork chops with an icy pilsner (maybe Victory Prima Pils) or soft brown ale. You'll be glad you did.

People who suggest wine with food instead of beer are often pussies pretending to be sophisticated. I know they're not sophisticated, and now you do, too. If they had any sense of dignity, or the courage of their own culinary convictions, they'd recommend a good beer with dinner ... especially when the recipe purports to come from "Iron" Mike Ditka.

8 pork rib chops, 1-inch thick
4 cups orange juice
1 cup soy sauce
2 tablespoons chopped garlic
1/2 cup Dijon-style mustard
1/2 cup honey
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper

In a mixing bowl, combine orange juice, soy sauce, garlic, mustard, honey and cayenne pepper. Mix together with a whisk. Pour over pork chops and marinate in the refrigerator for 12 to 24 hours.

Remove pork from marinade; discard marinade. Season pork with salt and pepper and grill for 10 to 12 minutes, turning once. Serves 8.

Barbaro's dead! Pass the steak sauce

I don't like animals, unless I'm eating them.

So, though I admired Barbaro's performance in the Derby, the first thing I thought of when he was killed was of my favorite restaurant in Antwerp, Belgium.

It's a place called De Perdestaal, and it's built in an old horse stable in the gorgeous old center of Antwerp (great beer city, too, by the way). They specialize in horse, which is a popular dish in Belgium, particularly in Flanders, it seems.

I've been to this De Perdestaal place a couple of times for horsesteaks and fries. It tastes just like beef. In fact, you wouldn't know the difference.

You can also buy something in Belgian delis called Anvers Ham, which is basically horse cured like prosciutto. (Anvers is the French name for Antwerp). Great stuff.

There's another great horse restaurant in Grand Place in Brussels, the main city square. Can't remember the name. But beautiful restaurant.

Hey, Europeans eat horse. And, as we hear so often, Europeans are far more sophisticated than Americans. So eating horse must be good.

The great Bart Starr

Watched the "America's Game" feature on the 1966 Packers last night. What a great, great team. The 1967 Packers team kind of lucked and limped into that third straight title. But this was the last of the truly great Packers teams. Dominated their opposition by better than a 2-to-1 margin.

Bill Curry was a rookie at center ... forgot that Jim Ringo didn't play on all those Packers dynasty teams. Paul Hornung was limping around on his last legs, unable to really contribute to that team ... didn't even take a snap in SB I. Jim Taylor was still a monster, but was fighting with Lombardi.

Oh, yeah, and Bart Starr had probably his greatest season. He may be the greatest QB ever ... pinpoint accuracy, tough, ballsy leader, winner and five-time champion. But everyone talks about the great team around him. Well, one of the reasons that team was great was because their QB and on-field leader was the best in the business.

Starr's teammates really thought the world of him, and he was the one with the cachet to stand up to Lombardi for them.

Think of that backfield: HOFers Taylor, Hornung and Starr. That's pretty fuckin' good.

The best part of the whole thing on the 66 Packers was SB I hero Max McGee talking about all the chicks he used to bang ... and he was just a back-up. Imagine all the tail Hornung must have tagged.