Strike Up The Chorus…It’s Time For Sexy Friday
Friday, June 26th, 2009
It’s that time of the week, gents. Let’s get to it. (more…)

It’s that time of the week, gents. Let’s get to it. (more…)

We’re always impressed when we get letters from people around the NFL. It still kinda blows our collective minds that this blog gets all the attention that it does in the sports universe. But we were doubly surprised when we received an email from Rex Ryan, who of course is the new coach for the New York Jets, who asked us to share a message with you on his behalf. We were flattered by the gesture, and only too happy to oblige, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just another form letter that he sends out regularly to random groups of people. Read it after the jump and tell us if we’re just crazy. (more…)

We’re two days removed from Donte’ Stallworth’s apostrophe-deficient plea deal with the state of Florida that saw the Cleveland Browns wide receiver cop to manslaughter in exchange for serving a whopping 30 days in jail. Personally, I’ve spent more time in jail on tours, visiting friends, and shooting my new adult film, Cops And Cradle Robbers 7, available at finer adult video stores near you.
Some of you are comparing Stallworth’s sentence to that of Michael Vick, who was sentenced to 23 months in federal court for orchestrating an interstate dogfighting ring which, while grotesquely inhumane, makes a lot more sense than anything the UFL has ever done. But let’s get a grip and do the math. Thirty days is pretty fair, when you consider the surrounding factors involved, and compare those factors to Vick’s proceedings:
The case against Stallworth was not a slam-dunk. Stallworth blew a 0.126 at the scene, minutes after he ran over Mario Reyes with his Bentley on March 14th, but wasn’t charged with DUI manslaughter until April. Why?
The big issue centered around a wrinkle in Florida’s DUI laws referred to as “causation,” meaning that if the drunk driver is involved in a crash, that driver is not necessarily responsible if the other party contributed to that crash. Like if I have get drunk and have sex with your mom, but she pays for the hotel room; I can’t be held responsible, unless of course your dad is bigger than I am (fat chance).
This applies to the case since Mario Reyes was jaywalking when Stallworth hit him. Reyes’ illegal action–petty as it is–could have potentially absolved Stallworth. There also would have been difficulty provinig that Stallworth was impaired, since he was able to honk and flash his lights. The prosecution might have had a better case if Stallworth was texting behind the wheel while sober.
And there’s probably a going-over-the-middle joke here that, due to time constraints, I’ll leave to the fine commenters of this site.
Conversely, the case against Vick was damn near iron clad. Several of Vick’s friends flipped and testified against him. Significant physical evidence, including 70 dogs, were seized. Investigators were confident that they could prove that Michael Vick was the de facto CEO of an interstate dogfighting operation that involved gambling, drugs, and the violations of both state and federal laws. It’s also worth nothing here that Virgina has suspended all charges against Vick, because they’re just mighty swell folks.
Stallworth made good with the Reyes family. I don’t know what happened here, but this is my best guess: A contrite Stallworth met with the family, apologized from the bottom of his heart, and pulled out his checkbook. He then gave Mario Reyes’ surviving wife and daughter more money than either of them had ever seen in their entire lives, enough to put that 15-year-old daughter through college. Enough for the widow to live “comfortably,” if such a term could even be used here.
The Reyes’ family’s wishes to get the proceedings over with may have stemmed from the settlement. The prosecution admitted that this was a factor in hurrying the proceedings, a factor that certainly worked in the favor of Stallworth and his legal team. No word on whether Vick and the survivors of the 70 dogs seized are cool.
Stallworth’s illegal action was not premeditated, and happened in less time than it took you to read this sentence. I hate using the word “accident” in general, but the fault stemmed from ann instantaneous lapse in awareness. Is that worth sending a guy to jail for years of his life? Is that fair? Vick, on the other hand, delivered the Bad Newz for six years. Oh, but he didn’t kill nobody and didn’t rape nobody. Whatever.
Legal proceedings aren’t as cut and dried as our society would like to pretend they are, and that’s a good thing. Alleged criminals don’t just walk up to a judge with their offense written on an index card and receive a cookie-cutter punishment like some sort of Value Meal of Justice.
The state’s burden of proof is one of the cornerstones of liberty in a republic. It doesn’t make the death of Mario Reyes forgivable, or any less tragic. It doesn’t diminish the value of the 59-year-old man that woke up every day to provide for his family. Stallworth had his day in court. So did Vick. But it wasn’t just random chance or some obliviousness to humanity that Stallworth’s day turn out a lot better.
Dick joke.

KOBE BRYANT: Oh my Lord, this is the greatest feeling ever! Come here kids, give daddy a championship hug! I’ve won another world championship! By only beating teams in North America! This is the best! AND I FINALLY DID IT WITHOUT SHAQ! Woohoo! MVP!

PAU GASOL: Hey, Kobe. Congrats on the MVP, man.
KOBE BRYANT: Oh, Hey, big man! I finally did it without Shaq! This finally cements my legacy as A GUY THAT CAN PUT A TEAM ON HIS BACK! And carry them to the promised land!
PAU GASOL: [in Italian] Sure thing, guy, whatever!

ANDREW BYNUM: Great series, Kobe. Good job.
KOBE BRYANT: Hey, Andrew Bynum! I finally won it without Shaq! WHO SAYS I NEED A 7-FOOTER ON MY TEAM TO WIN A CHAMPIONSHIP?!
ANDREW BYNUM: Yeah, Pau and I were just talking about that. You had a great series. For a guy that was fifth on the team in field goal percentage and led all of us in turnovers. Nice work.
KOBE BRYANT: Thanks…man! Hey Derek Fisher! Why you dressed already?

DEREK FISHER: Hey, Kobe. There just aren’t many pictures of me online.
KOBE BRYANT: Derek, I did it, man! How ’bout a totally fake high five while the cameras are still on!
DEREK FISHER: I guess. [they high-five]
KOBE BRYANT: Derek, look at this. I DID IT! I AM THE GREATEST PLAYER IN THE WORLD, WEST OF THE MISSISSIPPI! Remember those two clutch shots I hit to win Game 4 for us?
DEREK FISHER: That was me!
KOBE BRYANT: …Oh. Hey, Coach! Coach! Whose the man now?

PHIL JACKSON: [distracted] Yeah, great work, Scottie. I’m proud of you.
KOBE BRYANT: Aw, come on, man! Can’t y’all see that IT WAS MY LEADERSHIP THAT GOT US HERE?! MY TEAMSMANSHIP?! DON’T HATE! EVERYONE ELSE KNOWS THAT I’M THE REASON WE WON! WE DIDN’T NEED SHAQ TO DO IT ONCE WE STOLE GASOL FROM THE GRIZZLIES IN THE ILLEGAL TRADE IN THE HISTORY OF SPORTS! DON’T HATE! DON’T HATE!
…why don’t you turn that damn camera off so I can get rid of these kids already?

Dem Vikins shurr got sumpin hangin down out thur crawls, cuzza jus gissin here, but dint dey saydat dissa dedlann togitoll Brittfarr to sann dat auddograff ondat noo kontract? Well, giss wut, y’oll chum buckits. Ol’ Brittfarr ain’t did yet. So booly on dat for uh bit.
Dat ol coot Chilldriss, boy he ain’t got the since Gawd gave uh mean ol’ tick hound in the forst. He thankin he kin put Brittfarr behann dat ol’ kueball an say, “Now Brittfar, yew gotsa makeup dat ol’ gord o’yors an dessade i’yew gon play footbaw this yeer.
Ah ain’t gotsa dessade nuttin. I Brittfarr! I throofer fitty meelyin yars, throofer bout nanny meelyin tuch-dayowns, and only three innercipshuns! Mamma says I ain’t gotta kount all dem innercipshuns iffah down wantoo. En ah down wantoo!
Yer didlann ain’t sheeit, dere, Childriss, ya big ol hushpuppy. If yew gon killoll Brittfarr, yew cummon down heeuh and doo sum killin. But I’ll hunt yew lika meen ol’ smokey bayer been huntin dem fish inna stream. Cept witha big ol’ gun. I’mma git yew, Childriss. Jussa soonis yew put ol’ Brittfarr back on datdere footbaw team!
|img from Pacman Jonesin’|
When you go both ways in the NFL, it’s not a gay thing, it’s a very awesome, badass thing. The second-year player is splitting time in OTAs, getting reps at fullback on offense and linebacker on defense. He also figures to be involved in all four special teams, call all the passing plays and serve refreshments to luxury suite holders at the half.
I’m surprised we don’t see more of this with a 47-man active roster limit. I mean, you need a kicker AND a punter, just so those two have each other to jerk off during two-a-days, but why not have that sort of Swiss Army player that can learn positions on different sides of the ball?
Truth is, it does happen to some degree within a specific offense or defensive unit. Unless a high-profile left tackle was a 1st-round pick in the Draft, he almost always has to learn all the other offensive line positions. Defensive ends and linebackers have similar mental workloads, especially in a zone blitz scheme where linemen are asked to drop into pass coverage (from a three-point stance, no less). Hell, I can barely pop off the couch to answer a phone call before the third ring.
It’s made out to be a bigger deal when a guy does it on offense AND defense, and it should be. But imagine being a 50-year-old sportswriter at some newspaper, longing for the days of Concrete Charlie when this story came along the wire last season. OMG HE PLAYED BOTH WAYS MY BONER JUST CRASHED INTO MY MAHOGANY DESK NOM NOM NOM. I don’t know, I’m assuming he’d be eating something. And then when dude found out it was a white guy that did it, he probably blasted a load clear down to the classifieds desk.
So yeah, it’s a fun anomaly; I guess I’m just surprised we don’t see more of it. But then some guys bitch and moan when being asked to move from inside linebacker to outside linebacker. I can see why the old guys like that sort of thing.

It’s the NFL team that moves WHEREVER YOU WANT.
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The NFL Rams allows YOU THE UNIQUE ABILITY to root for whatever team YOU WANT. Root for the Rams, or cheer for the visiting team! Or do what most St. Louis fans do…AND DON’T CHEER AT ALL! You’ll never be tiring OF PLAY SO UNINSPIRING!
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BUT WAIT! Call in the next 20 minutes and we’ll throw in 2005 NFL Most Valuable Player Shaun Alexander! A 2o-dollar value! Yours, ABSOLUTELY FREE!
Here’s how to order!

This is a bad economy to be trifling with the support of fans and sponsors with conservative, anti-dog-killing values, and one could argue that Vick’s deteriorated acumen at quarterback wouldn’t be enough to offer a team to offset the ensuing PR meltdown from its own supporters. He could still get picked up, but it won’t be until later in the summer or early fall, when season ticket forms and sponsorship checks have already been turned in. But I’m wandering off-topic. (more…)

Yassee dare hushpuppy, daboddys inna mayzin thing. Darezoll kendsuh stuffa gonn onn indere. Wut kinna thins in dere? Welp, dare blood. In dare piss. In dare itty bitty clumps o’stakein rump roast in dere kulled mussels. In dem mussels issa reesin Aykin throwdat dare futbawl o’er dem mountins. Mussels is guud. But er’ry wunce inna bluu muun, Dem mussels go bad.

A mussel’s lot lacka dawg. Sumtime dat dawg luukin reel guud, enyookin rub its bellyin itta git yewa bawl erra stick er maybe sum ol’ panties that dem silly naybors leevin outin da yard. But sumtime dat ol’ dawg don’t wanna hunt, so yew take dat dawg unneruh knaff enemm doktuhs gone fix dat dawg up guud. Cuzza ded dawg meen no playin tamm, no playin tamm meen no rode hay’d, and Issa need my rode hay’d.

S’I gussin dat Coach Childruss gon lookit deesin say, Brittfarr yousa gone beuh Vikin, or he say, Brittfarr, yew needsa play sumwhure else. Aint no ducks offa mah back. Cuz iffee dunt wunt me, I jussa weytin til hee git farred annden Brittfarr go talky da new coach nixt year.