Category Archives: Sports
Leftridge: Payton Pays for Pain, Football Fans Say, “Okay… and?”
So apparently, former Saints defensive coordinator Gregg Williams was paying his guys to inflict injury upon opposing players throughout his tenure with New Orleans, and quite possibly, before.
Oh, that’s right, our sick and sadistic tale begins long ago, when Williams was head evil-defensive-guy with the Washington Redskins… that’s right. THOSE Washington Redskins. And obviously, his pay for pain program worked out in DC, right? Right?!
No. Because football is what it is. It’s a bunch of overgrown, testosterone dripping assholes who WANT to knock the ever-loving shit out of one another. They do it without provocation, without incentive; they do it because it’s PROFESSIONAL FOOTBALL.
Williams joined the Saints in 2009 and immediately began inflicting ass-bashings to opposing offenses. According to court documents, things came to a head in that year’s NFC playoffs.
In the divisional round, the Saints walloped the Arizona Cardinals, 45-14. A week later, they beat the holding-out-for-a-hero Minnesota Vikings, 31-28 (you remember, the game that changed the way playoff football would be played forever). While this was going on, the Saints defensive players were being paid to injure the opposition, as specifically restricted by the NFLPA’s forbidden “bounty program.”
Tales From the Tweet: Braun Beats the System, Ozzie’s Man-Boobs & Something About a Border War?
With all of the hype going into today’s matchup between Kansas and Missouri, you’d think that Twitter would be a bit more abuzz. Not so. Aside from the expected dick-cheese taunts from fans on both sides, it’s been mostly quiet. Oh, the prodigal son will return to check out the game and eat some food (presumably between bursts of pedophilian-protector defense):
@JPosnanski
“Heading back to KC for the last Mizzou-KU game. Barbecue will be eaten. Winstead burgers will be consumed.”
But somehow, this doesn’t feel as exciting as it may have been a week ago, you know, before the Tigers took a big, fat monkey-shit against the Kansas State Wildcats… AGAIN. Oh sure, it’s a possible final meeting (doubt it), and there’s a lot on the line, but after Mizzou’s narrow escape against the Jayhawks in Columbia just a few weeks ago, this one has disappointment scrawled all over it.
Look, what Mizzou has done this season has exceeded expectations. They’re a fun team to watch, no doubt, but it doesn’t appear as though all of the HEART! HUSTLE! GRIT! DETERMINATION! in Dickey V’s loins is enough to overcome the grotesque size differential. Therefore, I’m taking the Jayhawks to win, teased with IND at NE ( 40) and BAL at Spain (-7). IT’S A TEASER BET. LOOK IT UP! EVERY SPORTS BOOK IN CANADA TAKES TEASER BETS, PUNK.
Sorry—where were we? Ah yes, on with the Tweets.
Leftridge: Spring Has Sprung, Grass Has Riz, Here Comes Jonathan Sanch…iz?
Cue the effed-out Don Henley song that seemingly has NOTHING to do with baseball, yet is played incessantly at major league ballparks around the country and on highlight clip-shows, ad nauseam. You know—the one about Dead Head stickers on a Cadillac, don’t look back, you can never look back. Yeah, that one.
Or you can go with John Fogerty’s “Centerfield,” the baseball song with the deceptively difficult hand-clapping rhythm that makes 30,000 white people look even whiter than they actually are.
Whatever your poison, it’s baseball time, boys and girls. All around the league, pitchers, catchers, coaches and overachievers will be reporting to either Florida or Arizona today, to shake off the rust, lose their Chipotle-guts and start the wheels a’turnin for the next 6 months where we’ll be consistently reminded that, “it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”
Boy howdy.
The fresh-faced, eager beavers of the Kansas City Royals are a compelling team for a number of reasons.
Leftridge: Tales from the Tweet: Now With More Iron Sheik!
Do me a favor. I want you to sit back, close your eyes, and think of the craziest Iranian person you know. I know, I know, this might take a second, but I’ll wait patiently.
There, you got it? Good.
Look, I don’t know who you thought of—the guy who runs the place where you go to get your car fixed, the one who runs the lunch place who makes you feel slightly uncomfortable (because he never smiles while you scarf down your shawarma)—but I promise, unequivocally, that the person who you thought of isn’t nearly as insane as the Iron Sheik.
Born Robert Edelman in Adina, Minnesota Hossein Khosrow Vaziri in Tehran, Iran, “Sheikie,” as he refers to himself, is absolutely, certifiably nuts. Cocaine fueled rants on Howard Stern aside, one need look no further than his brilliantly disturbed Twitter feed. Let’s examine.
@the_ironshiek
“i watch the lebron i watch the kobe. if i want i beat the living fuck out of both of them make them cry like virgil. still i respect them”
One of the former WWE Heavyweight Champion’s favorite running themes is hatred of his 1980’s wrestling colleagues. Is this shtick? Can he not break character, lo’ these many years removed?
Leftridge: Giants Win Super Bowl, Brandon Remains Unconvinced
And when the dust settled, only one could truly be called a champion.
Or some such bullshit.
But seriously, what a great game, right? If you had no rooting interest, if you hadn’t laid any money on the line, how could you possibly disagree with how awesome this game turned out to be? You can’t, plain and simple.
Oh wait… I can complain (shocking, right?). Again, as an unbiased, financially inculpable party. And why’s that? Because now, in the wake of Eli Manning’s second Super Bowl victory, as his brother sits by, nursing a broken-neck/tingly arm/age problem, the pundits will begin to decry, “Eli is the better Manning! Eli has two—count ‘em TWO rings to be placed in his safe!”
But those people are idiots.
Dan Marino never won a Super Bowl. Is Eli Manning a better quarterback than Dan (Fucking) Marino? Of course not. And is he a better quarterback than his brother? No way.
If we all know one unflappable fact about football, it’s that it’s a team sport. Occasionally, there will be one person who tries to single-handedly do it themselves, but it usually doesn’t work out too well (for a very recent example, see Tom Brady um, like, last night).
So Pats fans, what in the hell happened?
Leftridge: NY Giants Order Pizza, Travel to Indianapolis for Some Reason
The week leading up to the Super Bowl is a long, arduous journey full of peril, ridiculousness and mostly, a lack of real intrigue. It’s “Media Week,” they say, but permit me to make a really bad pun and call it “Media Weak.” I’ll wait for your peals of raucous laughter to subside before continuing…
…all better? Good. Then let’s carry on.
During Media Week, reporters, writers and journalists of varying caliber all descend upon the host city—in this case, rusty old Indianapolis—and attempt to mine gold from what is more often than not, a freshly blown nose. They try to find angles that others haven’t covered—BREAKING NEWS: Tom Brady’s Pee Wee Coach’s Sister-in-law Grew Up Two Miles From Lucas Oil Stadium!—or they mercilessly beat to death stories that everyone else is writing about—Can Eli Step Out of His Brother’s Shadow… in His Brother’s Own City?!—dun-dun-DUN!
Leftridge: Here Comes the Pro Bowl; Shoot Me Now, Please
Here’s what’s wrong with the Pro Bowl: nobody gives a shit. The players don’t care, a stadium-full of confused Hawaiians don’t care, and unquestionably, television viewers back in the States don’t care.
Do you remember who won the Pro Bowl last year? Of course you don’t. NOBODY DOES. Even the Washington Redskins’ DeAngelo Hall doesn’t remember, and HE WAS THE MVP (oh and by the way, the NFC beat the AFC, 55-41). The year before, the AFC won 41-34, and the two years prior, the NFC won by a combined score of 72-51. Seriously, the over-under for the past 10 years is close to something like, 215 points. And why is this?
Well, if you know more about the Pro Bowl than I do—and trust me, you probably do—you know that the game is played with a whole ‘nother set of rules.
Leftridge: Tales From the Tweet: Pioli Perverts Privacy & Darvish Does Dallas
Well, it’s been awhile since I cracked open the ol’ Twitter and had a looksie, and because of the absence, I expected a cornucopia of information to come cascading down upon my head as soon as I logged in. Twitter, however, had different plans. Namely: there wasn’t a whole lot of anything going down. Despite being in college basketball conference play, baseball arbitration coming and going, and the NFL playoffs being in full bloom… crickets.
One thing that was being tweeted and re-tweeted, however, was reaction to the recent Kansas City Star expose by Kent Babb about the frighteningly “Russian factory-like” working conditions at One Arrowhead Drive. Since you’ve probably already read the piece—and if you haven’t, you should—I won’t rehash it in painstaking detail. Even if you haven’t read it, you’ve probably heard the key pieces: decoy candy-bar wrappers left on stairs to test employee laziness. Spy-thriller tales of bugged rooms and tapped phones. Constant, paranoia inducing monitoring of all comings and goings. Todd Haley trading in his grimy, sweat-stained ball cap for a tinfoil hat.
So what do local radio people have to say? Well, it depends where you work. If you’re with 810, you said nothing.
Leftridge: NFL Playoffs, Take 2; An In-Depth Analysis of Murderers, Dragons & Chapped-Lips
Like the late, great Jerry Reed said, “When you’re hot, you’re hot.”
Perhaps more importantly, he followed that up with, “when you’re not, you’re not.” And when it comes to picking playoff football, my friends, I am not. I’d feel bad about this if I prided myself on my ability to accurately predict the winners, but I don’t. I know I’m terrible at it. That’s why I don’t gamble. I don’t put my money where my mouth is, nor will I ever claim to. Instead, I put chicken wings where my mouth is. This weekend. While I watch what is certain to be some tantalizing NFL action.
I said last week that the Wildcard round was going to be bad, and it was. At least I didn’t—what’s the expression?—have intercourse with the dog in that regard.
Leftridge: The Playoffs Will Get Better Next Weekend, I Promise
This year’s round of NFL Wildcard playoffs is a little like watching Jeff Bridges eat an apple; it’s not apt to be the most entertaining thing you’ve ever seen, but goddamnit, THAT’S "THE DUDE" EATING AN APPLE. Anything that guy does is entertaining. I’d pay money to watch him trim his goatee and balance his checkbook. Similarly, you can’t not watch the NFL playoffs, even if it is the slightly wilted side-salad at the beginning of what promises to be an otherwise fantastic meal.
It seems a foregone conclusion at this juncture that the NFC will come down to the Packers and the Saints in the Conference Championship. Additionally, it’s likely that the Patriots will face either the Ravens or the Steelers in the Divisional round next weekend. In between, there doesn’t figure to be a whole lot of mystery.
The action kicks off Saturday, with a sexy-ass matchup between the Cincinnati Bengals and the Houston Texans.
Leftridge: This Year in Sports
So it’s that time of year when we sit back and take stock of the “calendar that was” with a grueling list meant to encompass a million things that happened over the past 12 months. Every publication that’s worth its weight in readers compiles some sort of regurgitated inventory of “Top Sports Things That Happened,” and “2011 Highlights in the World of Athletics.” (or trout-fishing, independent movie-making, shit you ate at your in-laws for Sunday dinner, etc. You get the point)
Frankly, I find it a tedious task and I for one will not participate. People like lists because they’re easy to skim and skip around, but I ask you: do you really like lists? Or do you read them because you’re supposed to like lists?
Therefore, I will painstakingly go month-by-month through 2011 to briefly recap the highlights and the lowlights in an effort to encapsulate things that happened. In sports. Let’s start with January, since, well, since it’s the first month, I suppose.
January:
Roberto Alomar, who may or may not have AIDS (this site’s too crappy for links– just google it), and Bert Blyleven are elected to the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame.
Jeff Fisher (Tennessee Titans) and Eric Mangini (Cleveland Browns) get fired, and the 49ers hire Jim Harbaugh, who I thought was really cool when I was younger because I had a football card where he had spiked hair (this is the same reason Kevin Seitzer was my favorite Kansas City Royal).
The Seahawks become the first team with a losing record to win a playoff game. Jesus weeps.
The Chiefs, who somehow won the division and weaseled their way into the playoffs, get beat like a drum by a much better Baltimore Ravens team.
Leftridge: Calling All Coaches- Who’d Like to Come to Kansas City?
So Todd Haley is gone, and though it’s only been a few days—that he’s undoubtedly spent sitting on his couch in basketball shorts, scratching the scruff on his neck and wondering where it all went wrong—we’re already picking over the corpse of his career and making wild assumptions and wish-lists concerning who might be next in line. The life of a head football coach is probably not a fun one, and it provides all of the safety and job-security of a one-legged lobsterman on a rickety fishing boat.
But shed not a tear for the plight of the oft-embattled NFL coach; the average 2010 salary was a cool $3.25 million. And yeah, it’s a year-round job, despite its seasonal nature, and it consumes you. Your family life probably suffers, you have no free-time and your insides are just one giant ulcer of second-guesses and game film. That said, I mean, come on… $3.25 million.
Tales From the Tweet: KU Livin’ Large, Albert Getting Fatter & Milwaukee’s New Kick to the Nuts
So unless you’ve been living trapped beneath Charlie Weis’ fleshy, ample backside, surviving on small pockets of trapped air and renegade Cheetos that were feared lost forever, you already know the big news of the past week: there’s a new head footballl coach at Kansas University.
And if you’re like me, you spent yesterday glued to your Twitter feed, as 10 different local sports talk personalities Tweeted the same lines from his lengthy press conference. Alright, so that’s only a half-truth. I went back afterwards and read them all, however, and managed to learn the same things over and over again.
@nate_bukaty (810)
“Charlie Weis enters the room.”
I’m on the edge of my seat… my ever-so-slightly quaking seat.
@bobfescoe (610)
“Weis has entered. Using a cane. Bad hip and knee #kufball”
Apparently, the “Rascal-Mobility-Scooter ramp request” was not met. Strike one, Dr. Zenger. He’s going to hold this against you when he rolls out of town in another year and a half.
Leftridge: Tales from the Tweet: Orton’s Ouchy, Goldilocks’ Woes & Emotional Gourd
Dateline: Southside Chicago. Home to rampant murder, rape, robbery, drugs, thick mustaches and ‘da Bears. With Chicago taking on the lowly Kansas City Chiefs, the fans didn’t take long to make the Windy City proud:
@mellinger (Sam, KC Star sports columnist)
“11:15 am…first gratuitous use of a taser witnessed outside Soldier Field.”
I love Chicago—even lived there for a spell—but man, the Southside of that fine city is a wreck. If you’re not going to a Bears game (you can get tased anywhere, to be fair) or a Sox game (you probably WILL get tased here—by a fan, or a player, or an ump), you have no business venturing south of about 15th street. Nothing good happens there.
Oh, and then there was the game. The quarterback play was abysmal:
@SSJ_WHB (Steven St.John, 810 am)
“I want Palko and Hanie to fight….Loser leaves the NFL….Winner leaves, too….#Chiefs”
But that’s why we went out and picked up Kyle Orton, right?
Tales From the Tweet: Gill’s Last Gasp, an Albino Lion & Lou Diamond’s Stolen Identity
‘Tis the season for cherishing what you’ve got. For some, this means a job, a home, a family, some food, a nice Sleep Number bed… whatever. Turner Gill—who was fired by KU on Sunday—has most of these things, I’m sure. Well, except the job. Oh, and plus $6,000,000.00. That’s right, the man who succeeded Mean Ol’ Mangino was given his walking papers after he managed an unbelievably horrid 1-16 record in the Big 12 over his two year reign of terror. But don’t cry for him, Argentine, Kansas, he’ll be just fine.
@KUNews
“Turner Gill has been relieved of his duties as Head Football Coach at the University of Kansas”
@mellinger (KC Star Sports Columnist)
“When Turner Gill lists his accomplishments on his resume for his next job, "halftime lead over #Mizzou" should make the top five. #KUfball”
@nate_bukaty (810 am)
“I never find joy in a person losin his job, and I believe Turner Gill to be a very good man, but Dr. Zenger did what needed to be done.”
People like to say that they hate it when people get fired; when it comes to sports, this is often nothing more than a ridiculous cliché. Simply put, sports dehumanize people. It rightfully puts team and organization above all else. Theoretically, all of the moveable parts grow into a giant, convulsing, hissing machine. And when a piece of that machinery breaks down, or fails to provide the function that it’s supposed to, you replace it. It’s that simple.
Leftridge: Say Goodnight to the Border War
Without rivalries, football would be little more than (mostly) fit men scampering around a well-manicured lawn in tight pants chasing a ball no bigger than an obese Chihuahua. Dubious, at best.
Rivalries, however, give us conflict, lend intrigue and substantiate purpose.
Who were the Hatfield’s without the McCoy’s? Dirty hillbillies, that’s who.
The 2004 Red Sox World Series win wouldn’t have been nearly as memorable if the road to the championship hadn’t included a historic run through the New York Yankees and a bloody, sweat-soaked sock.
Ricky “the Dragon” Steamboat fought epic, timeless battles against Ric Flair in the days of the NWA, back when it was acceptable to have a wrestler embrace the persona of a dragon.
You get the idea.
Leftridge: Facts About the Kyle Orton Pick-Up; Chiefs Subtract with Addition
Fact 1: The Chiefs picked Kyle Orton up on Wednesday, before more deserving teams (see: teams in actual playoff contention) could do so. If you’re the Chicago Bears, the Houston Texans, the Detroit Lions (come on—we all know it’s a matter of time before Matt Stafford separates his shoulder reaching for his soda at a Wendy’s drive-thru), the Philadelphia Eagles (Vick is more vulnerable than an emaciated pit-bull in a throat-tearing-contest… too soon? Nope) or the Dallas Cowboys (see: the Detroit Lions’ conundrum), you’ve gotta be super-pissed.
What business do the god-awful Chiefs have in making this move? Well, none, really.
Tales from the Tweet: a Jumbo Dose of Pinkel, Big Z to KC? & Canseco’s New Gig
At this point, you’ve already decided whether Mizzou head coach Gary Pinkel’s punishment was justified or horribly hypocritical. You’ve probably even seen the dash-cam video where he stumbles around, embarrassing himself and his university. If you’re a Mizzou alum, or fan, you’ve probably taken the attitude that, “Come on, who HASN’T had a drink at dinner with friends and driven home? The fact that everyone is making a big deal of it is the REAL issue.”
If you’re a KU fan, or a K-State fan, or even if your team is in the SEC (most SEC fans seem angry by their conference’s newest inclusion, in general), you’ve probably taken the attitude that, “He could have killed a school-bus of special needs children! He should be drawn and quartered like the uncivilized beast that he IS!”
And maybe there is merit to be found in all opinions, both sympathetic and dissenting.
He did lose over $300,000 in the ordeal, has been publicly humiliated and one would assume that this makes a large mark on his permanent record. On the other hand, his players have been punished in a more severe manner for similar transgressions—in terms of suspension, that is—and he DOES make a dick-load of money to begin with.
But no matter what you’ve decided, the facts surrounding his arrest speak for themselves.
@sptwri (Mike DeArmond, Mizzou writer, KC Star)
“Cops asked gp to recite alphabet starting with letter E. He said E F G H R. LATER WENT A B C D E F G H R.”
“COPS ASKED GP TO count from 73 to 62. "Gary stated he could not do that normally."
“Cop asked how big were the servings of red wine he had consumed. Cop said Pinkel said "Jumbo."
The jumbo answer is priceless. Despite the seriousness of the situation—even I don’t think drinking and driving is a laughing matter, and I’m pretty hard to offend—“jumbo” will forever provide exquisite fodder for those wanting to take a quick jab at MU.
Leftridge: Weekend Recap; BCS Insanity, Sausage Scented Ladies and the Return of Thiggy
My father-in-law grew up in Oklahoma.
He went to both OU and OSU. Weird, huh?
Used to be, when I thought of Oklahoma, I though of SE Hinton novels. You know, the Outsiders, a violent teenage socioecomic drama where the Greasers fought the Soc’s, and Cherry Valance was forever conflicted.
Now I just think of my father-in-law, a proud Oklahoman who can root with candor for whichever of the two teams happens to be winning. Needless to say, this was a rough weekend for him.
Meanwhile, Justin Blackmon is dropping passes from his elderly quarterback and Landry Jones is gasping for air as his dwindling Heisman candidacy circles ‘round the porcelain poop-drop.
I knew the OU/Baylor game would be good. I called that. But I’m not stupid enough to pretend that I also pegged OU as the loser. Didn’t think there was any way in hell they’d lose to Baylor, despite RG3’s super-cyborg abilities.
But man… that Robert Griffin III kid is something else. He set records—500 yards through the air, Jesus H. Christ—and ultimately saved the last drive for his legs, beautiful redwoods of indisputable virtue.
I want the Chiefs to pick him in next year’s draft. It’s possible, by God, so make it happen Pioli.
Leftridge: What to Watch This Weekend; Double-Dose of Bears & Retro Beat-Down
The year: 2007. The site: a cold and icy Arrowhead Stadium. The participants: Kansas, led by their diminutive gunslinger Todd Reesing, and Mizzou, led by their… well, diminutive gunslinger Chase Daniel.
Take yourself back, if you will, to a moment in time long since forgotten. Rihanna’s “Umbrella,” featuring Jay-Z was riding high on the music charts, and movie fans the world over were flocking to see “Pirates of the Caribbean: How Many of These Fucking Things Can There Be?”
Going into the game, the Jayhawks were 11-0 and ranked second in the polls behind LSU; Missouri had lost previously in the season to the Sooners and were 10-1, ranked third behind their border adversary.
If you were a Kansas fan, I’m sorry.
