Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Eldrick Tiger Woods

I'm back. Back from the land of thoughts protected by 140 character limits. Back from the TMZ zone as I try to catch a glimpse of a Tiger in trouble. Back from the swine flu, which turns out is just the flu, which turns out still just sucks.

But why speak now? Why not just twitter some smart ass remark about how much I hate Time Warner or AT&T, you don't ask.

My favorite athlete of all-time. That's why.

Tiger Woods.

I'll cut to the chase on Tiger. We all know what happened. Actually, we all know what may have kinda actually perhaps happened thanks to numerous reliable sources like RadarOnline.com (there are no radars - I checked), The NY Post (they now have a column written by the hooker formerly known as Eliot Spitzer's) and TMZ.com (the only known place where human beings get excited for Octomom.)

The bottom line is Tiger Woods has been cheating. A lot. With all sorts of squirrels. It amounts to another high-profile athlete or celebrity being unfaithful in his or her marriage - clearly nothing new.

So why are we so enthralled with Tiger? He plays golf, a sport most consider slightly less exciting than sitting in a 2 hour line at the DMV on your off day.

Look no further than quality, world-class deceit. Tiger Woods successfully fooled billions of people, some near to him, others continents away, for nearly 13 years. My limited mind knows of no other more thorough, brilliant and successful PR campaign in the history of modern athletic celebrity.


Michael Jordan came close, then allegations of gambling came to light. Kobe Bryant? A night in a Colorado hotel changed his course of endorsement perfection. Every player in baseball was saint-like until every player in baseball took steroids, lied about it, then failed a drug test.

But Tiger? He has a tendency to block his release and slices a drive occasionally. He also frequently mentioned the word "fuck" on CBS.

Seriously, that's it.

We have never seen anything like Tiger. An absolute freak of nature at his sport combined with unmatched endorsement power, he was the perfect canvas for a painting worth over a billion dollars.

That's exactly what Mark Steinberg, Tiger and team IMG painted. And it worked brilliantly.

Until now.

I firmly believe Tiger Woods is better at what he does than anyone else in the WORLD is at what they do. Biased? Hell yes I am. I love golf, but part of loving golf is knowing how hard it is. Golf is more mind control than physical attributes - Tiger Woods is like the Dali Lama meets Lance Armstrong with a touch of Cassius Clay.

But now Tiger has gone from perfect to far from it. From marketable to questionable. From adorned to scorned. Tiger's "transgressions" force me to play a hand. Who do I join, Team "Tiger" or Team "I Can't Believe That Human Screwed Up, I'm Trading In My Buick"?

This sad scandal doesn't change a thing for me as a Tiger Woods fan. I'm not in it for Tiger the spokesperson. I'm not in it for the politically correct press conferences. I'm in it for the golf. Was I fooled by the synthetically polished image for all these years along with everyone else? Yeah, I suppose I was.

But you know what Tiger Woods didn't fake?

14 Major Championships.
71 PGA victorys.
10 PGA Player Of The Year Awards.
Winning the U.S Open on a fractured leg - in a playoff.

That's authentic.

My admiration for Tiger as an athlete is clear, but that's not to say I don't feel for Elin and her family. I can't imagine the hurt of your marriage crumbling down, on a public stage no less.

However, this public undressing of an icon may be for the best. It may be what Tiger needs and it may be what Elin needs.

It's hard to believe that people equipped with the money and power of Tiger Woods are meant for marriage. His life is relentlessly full of commitments to things like commercial shoots, private golf clinics, interviews, sponsor wine and dines and not to mention just a little bit of golf. As hard as golf is, a successful marriage has to be harder. Add on all the above to the hundreds of millions in the bank and nearly every woman you see throwing herself at you and you have a recipe for one trip to a celebrity divorce lawyer's office.

So how does he get out of the (LAME PUN ALERT)woods? Play golf. That's what got you here, to the top of a now-tarnished mountain, and that's your vehicle out. You are the best in the world at something you do, and only a VERY small number of people can say that.

So get the sticks out and swing 'em. Get out the Scotty Cameron and roll one in on 18 at Augusta to win it.

Go back to basics, Tiger. Go back to annihilating any and all on the golf course.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Quick hitters

Doritos Of Death - Paging all beautiful, health-consciousness, attractive, smart, good looking, witty young women willing to drag my ass to Whole Foods.

Why? Because my list of life's nutritious necessities goes something like this:
1. Doritos
2. Stella
3. Oxygen

I've tried all imaginable preventative tricks - hide the damn Doritos, don't buy the damn Doritos, eat all the damn Doritos so there are none left, put cottage cheese all over the damn Doritos.

Nothing works. The Dorito is now the Erin Andrews of snack food - I can't get enough no matter how full I am.

Delay Of Game - I have a healthy list of rants on the NFL, but today I stick to the chain gang.

I'm a neutral NFL fan. I don't have a team I paint my extremities for and I don't wake up at 8:30 AM for anything but work and that goddamn weed eater outside my window on Saturdays.

So how does that affect my NFL viewing experience?

I have a lot more time to bitch about the little things.

Today I admired the process of the NFL chain gang. For those of you not familiar with this brilliant symphony of human interaction and 1950's technology, you're not missing anything. Two sticks bound together by a chain measuring 10 yards in length are used to determine whether or not the ball has advanced 10 yards, or enough for the 1st down.

But what I don't get is why the hell this process is used when it's not needed. Like today. When the 40 yard line represented the first down. And the ball was spotted at the 39 yard line. What the hell is there to spot? Nothing. It's 36 inches from the promised land, fellas. Move on.

Instead, we watch two old guys trot out with chains, stare at a football and make a gesture with their hands representing a vague translation of the distance between football and first down.

At least it's fair, accurate and free of human error.

Weak rant, I know. But don't worry, I'm going to bring it when I let loose on instant replay.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

I do not mention how much I hate Time Warner in this post

Since MTV seems to be preoccupied with running "My Super Sweet 16th Birthday: The Spoiled Brat Chronicles" and "The Hills: As Real As The Script Let's Us Be", I've taken it upon myself to highlight a few music videos. In classic tradition, I'm going Good, Bad and Ugly.

The Good:

Fresh of his mainstream fame in "The Hangover", Zac Galifianakis gets his Hype Williams on and crushes these two videos. Simple concept yet really, really funny in both cases.

1.) Fiona Apple - "Not About Love"
(YouTube won't let me embed?)
2.) Kanye West - "Can't Tell Me"



(Better quality version here)


The Bad: Muse - Knights of Cydonia
I really don't know where to start with this one. The tone is set around the 1:10 mark. A random, Wade Boggs lookalike cowboy, while riding horse through desert, takes out laser gun and shoots small bush with blue laser, setting it ablaze. I mean why wouldn't you? Clearly that 6 inch bush needed a good burning. And what was it thinking, just growing like that?! Ugh, the nerve of natural vegetation sometimes.


The Ugly: Blondie vs. The Doors - Rapture Rider

First, in no way is this a knock on The Doors - in fact, the first 1:20 are quite enjoyable. But after that initial Doors kick, this wannabe cracked out version of Michelle Pfeiffer comes in and just craps all over the video. Not literally, although some may interpret that as an upgrade. And what the hell is the half-naked black guy dressed as an Indian doing hiding behind a fake bush?! (2:10 mark)

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

My relationship with Lady Gaga will be contentious from here on out

It's been months, kids. You know what that means, right? Time to unload those pet peeves like a toddler with a bag of skittles. Did that makes sense? Absolutely not - just prepping you for what's below...

Radio Station loyalty - Poor radio - left in the dust by that damn Internetz years ago, AM/FM radio stations have less to look forward to than Bernie Madoff on a Friday night. Flooded by repetitive Autotune-laced, Lil Wayne-infected, Lady Gaga-esque garbage, radio stations continue to pepper my cranium with 75% garbage music (PITBULL), 10% commercials, 10% self-promotion and 5% quality music that I don't give a shit about.

But for the next paragraph or so, I'd like to focus my bitch juice on the 10% station self-promotion. The new radio station** in Los Angeles seems keen on reminding me of all the listeners that have "made the switch" to the NEW ninetysometherother(point)whatever. Wait, made the switch? Surely these callers mean temporarily, right? No? You're telling me they actually leave their radios tuned to your station while you blast commercials for low interest rate, used car rip-off centers? How loyal of your young brainwashed clan of robots! But hey, Seacrest, get real. The second I hear some thirty-something, wannabe-sexy Dracula voiceover guy trying to pitch me a BK Chicken Crisper, I punch the next number. Hell no I don't know what station I'm changing it to, I just cycle buttons 2 - 6 on my dial until I hit the illustrious commercial-free land.

But what if every one of you clone stations are playing that damn Pitbull song? (It's happened numerous times before) - I lay down my ace-in-the-hole. You guessed it, NPR, motha shuckas. Damn right I'd rather listen to a four minute story on a blind Afghan sheep farmer than hear Lady Gaga talk about her disco stick.

**by new radio station, I mean a station that is an exact clone of at least three others.

Lady Gaga - - This human waste of space is shooting up my list of "Top 3 reasons to Hate Humanity". So far the list goes like this:

1.) Time Warner Cable / AT&T
2.) Lady Gaga
3.) Lady Gaga

If only Lady Gaga would have a dumb robot call me from blocked number every week to remind me about a bill I'm well aware of. Anyone know her reps?

Anyway, I've got questions about this whole "disco stick" she keeps referring to. Since I have no idea what the f*ck that means, can I just make it up and we go from there? Great! Ok, here we go - my disco stick is a Howitzer cannon aimed at your right knee cap. It will fire lead buck shot in your direction next time it hears the song "Poker Face" (t-minus 10 minutes, on those sweet LA radio waves, honey!)

Better stop there, I think I just woke up my local ATF office.

The phrase "Don't Judge a Book by its Cover"
- Come on, that's like me telling you not to judge me even though I reek like Colt-45. Sure, I'm probably drunk, but what if I'm not and I just smell??

Ok fine, all the authors / librarians / teachers out there, you win. I promise from here on out I won't judge a book by its cover.

Instead? I'll read the last two pages, back cover and shitty review on Amazon.com.


Lastly - I must apologize for unloading my pent up annoyances on you like Wade Boggs unloads on a 24 rack. I'd like to keep up with this blog, but when you find yourself repeatedly sleeping on a couch at work, it's much easier just to bitch in person. So, to take you into my next post, I leave you with two things I actually like.

1. Charles Hamilton / Drake
- Two fresh voices in a terribly stagnant rap music industry. Hate on rap all you want, but there IS good material out there. Neither have a CD out now, just mix tapes that are well worth the search. Here's Charles Hamilton's "Brooklyn Girls"

2. Golf - Ok, it's a bit of a cop-out answer, but I seriously wanted to feed my golf clubs to the next pond I saw for the last year. But, after a couple rehab rounds in San Diego and Ohio, I'm back on the bag. How long will this fix last? Probably until the next 90 I post. Until then, swing away.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Right place, right time.

Thought I'd go ahead and re-post my KU highlight videos from last year. One, because it's proof that we would kick the shit out of this year's Carolina team (again) and two, because these videos are the reason I have my job today. If it wasn't for the hours of DVR'd hoops games, my laptop (thanks, Dad), Final Cut (thanks, Dad), and free time (thanks Dad / crap San Diego job market), I would've never weaseled my way into the editing / assistant gig I have at Trigger Street. Just a matter of luck (see: preparation meeting opportunity).

Don't settle for spending hours on the resumé, rather find a skill set and learn it.*


*Do not try this with the sport of golf. You will spend anywhere from $3-5k and lose all motivation to continue playing due to plummeting self-esteem and ballooning scores. (See: me)




KU Hoops highlights from TheBigTicket on Vimeo.



Running the table, NCAA Tournament style! from TheBigTicket on Vimeo.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Quick Hitters

Blogging piñata-style, hit it and see what comes out.

Horoscopes - Let me get this straight, you want me to believe some generalized advice and predictions printed up for the masses based on when my birthday is? That sounds promising. I'll check it once I'm done holding for Ms. Cleo.

North Carolina:
Props to Roy for winning one with his own recruits. No props for Hansbrough for anything. At all. Ever.
















Bill Self:
AP coach of the year honor is well-deserved. Next year should be fun if this "inside info" I've received is correct - Xavier Henry to commit to KU, and Sherron is planning on returning. Watch the F out, Big XII.


L.A Confidential: I'm still dragging ass on getting through all the films K.S has been in but man, this one was worth the wait. Great cast and terrific production value. Bonus points for any movie based in L.A, I love seeing familiar spots on the big screen. And by familiar I may or may not be referring to a street where I received a ticket from the generous LAPD.












Twitter:
I've finally come around on this 140 character at a time thought-launching pad. I resisted at first, letting my profile dwindle in obscurity, but reluctance turned to motivation once I saw my Dad had more followers than me. #DadOut-CoolsKid

Nintendo Wii - Throwing your shoulder out while endangering anyone within a six foot radius of you has never been so fun.
















Xbox Customer Service -
- I'm going to stop listing customer service centers that piss me off. Instead I will list the places that were actually helpful. That list does not start now, as my Xbox customer service experience could be likened to eating glass covered in cottage cheese with a side of mold.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Type Gate '09

So the ball is in my court. The girlfriend has served up her "Top Guys" list and maintains that she has no "type" of guy she prefers. This becomes quite the back-and-forth, I claim she's all about rail-thin, musically-inclined punk rockers and she quickly refutes that I'm all about tall, blond with boobs-and-a-tan girls (my awkwardly-intense obsession with Marisa Miller probably doesn't help.)

Why is this an issue? Well, it's not so much and issue as it is humorous. Utilizing your eyes, one can see that neither Ky nor I resemble the others alleged type.


She
is a beautiful brunette with no ambition to go blond (and stay that way, please! :)

Me? Well the last time I had long hair, it was parted down the middle as I rocked a Stussy shirt with stonewashed jeans. And I was 12. Rocker fail.

I'm musically inclined if you count playing the recorder for one month in 4th grade. And I sucked at it. Musically inclined fail.

Let's settle this with some good old pictures, names and summaries you won't read. Any order prior to the last two is purely coincidental:

Tamara Brown: Bare with me on this one as she's a bit of a rising star. Anyone familiar with the heavy dose of Carl's Jr. ads run on ESPN knows this girl. Tamara happens to be the only tolerable thing about the Carl's Jr. commercial toting the "steak sandwich" (which happens to look like what you get when you mix LSD, Denny's and onion rings). But alas, Tamara and her blue dress make me forget all about that nasty contraption of pending heart attack. Unfortunately for me, this blond falls right into Ky's argument.
Ky: 1
Me: 0

Cheryl Cole: I'm hopping the pond for this next lady, Ms. Cheryl Cole. Cole is among the growing lineup of gorgeous WAG's from Europe (while I'm blanking on the technical term for WAG, it seems to mean gorgeous woman dating heinous soccer star - save that Becks fellow). I have no idea what she does for a living but something tells me it has to do with looking good and being seen. Easy to do with looks like this. Brunette takes the cake on this one.

Ky: 1
Me: 1



(Ed note: It seems this lovely lady closely resembles another beauty on this list...number one, anybody?)


Rachel Taylor: Most of you will find this pick to be a stretch on my part, but female Australian accents have a way of sealing the deal. You can find Rachel Taylor in Transformers playing the part of a computer "expert". Trust me, if experts looked half this good, I'd call the Geek Squad anytime my freaking toaster broke. Only in Michael Bay's Hollywood, people. The man has an eye (and a tad bit of leverage). Back to blond though, Ky takes the lead back.


Ky: 2
Me: 1







Megan Fox: The trendiest pick on my list, Ms. Fox seems to be the new Jessica Alba. Not to take anything away from either, but every year or two Hollywood spits out the new "it" girl. Not Britney "pyscoidiot" Spears or Lindsay "hotwithissues" Lohan, but rather a girl that no one can get enough of. Maxim, GQ, TMZ, Megan Fox has been ripping away headlines since the release of Transformers and I see why. A brunette with light eyes is hard to beat. I don't think she'll be off the Hollywood It radar for at least a couple more shitty movies. And back on the board for me.

Ky: 2

Me: 2



Marisa Miller: *Sighs*. That's pretty much all I've got on this one. She is to me what Brandon Boyd is to Kylie - number two and not moving. As nice as it is to see Marisa with the much-deserved attention of the SI Swimsuit cover, endorsements, Maxim #1 etc, I'm a bit sad to see her leave the shadows of Gisele, Lima and Ambrosio. Seems like for years I was asking about "that one dirty-blond" VS model. Well, take one incredible picture wearing nothing but an...iPod, and that's what happens. One quick side note for entertainment's sake - Marisa is married to Griffin Guess (which is an old Indian name for Lucky F*ck). Just so happens that Griffin was sitting next to Marisa's mom on an airplane once. He gets up to go the restroom, and while there, Mom Miller switches seats with Daughter of Superior Hotness, telling her she should talk to this cute guy she was sitting next to. So Guess comes back from the restroom and nice old lady has turned into the image to your left. What a trade off! Enter the world's most uncomfortable bathroom and emerge only to meet and marry the world's number one super model? Give me a freaking break! But she does hit just about every one of Ky's proposed stereotypes, so I lose two on this one.

Ky: 4

Me: 2


Kylie Gordon: Save the best for last, without a doubt. First, I have to give her credit for pointing out some previous dating tendencies of mine. Yes, I may have gravitated towards blonds (pure coincidence), but this wonderfully-beautiful girlfriend of mine trumps them all. She's my ace-in-the-hole. A brunette that puts the "b" in hot (makes no sense, I know.) And even though she gets sick of my compliments (most likely due to their repetitive and unoriginal nature), I'm not letting her get off without a fight - she needs to freaking model. I'm proud to say she's mine, which is obvious by the large head shot that remains permanently plastered on my iPhone backdrop. Love you, gf, and you're worth 10 points, so I win!

BAM!
Ky: 4
Me: 12



Honorable mention: Lily Gordon and Jessica Alba

Friday, March 13, 2009

Best instructions. Ever.

I have a fear of instructions and I don't know why. Not so much the verbal type, more so the written-out, folded-up, you-must-read-me-or-fail kind. I'm repeatedly convinced I can do without such petty orders.

"It's a freakin' drawer from IKEA," I say.*

"An alarm clock? To hell with that, you plug it in and it works, end of story."**

But why do I resist the directions again and again? Here's why - it's one thing to fail at putting together a desk or table without directions. But if you really want to feel like a horses ass, trying failing at this tasks while using the manufacturer-provided help. Just about the time you plug hole 13 with peg A1, your friend walks over and points out you've actually constructed a giant giraffe piñata instead of a table.

Anyway, the time came to replace the printer cartridge at the office yesterday. What comes with this new printer ammo? Super-detailed, CIA-like instructions. Let's take a look:


Step 1: Find a typewriter. Proceed to prime with left thumb 5-6 times.

Setp 2: Locate butter knife. Butter side of typewriter until clicking noise or arrow appears

Step 3: Open trunk of printer.

Step 4: Place typewriter in trunk of printer.

Step 5: Do not look at this crack from up-close.
Step 6: Do not ever touch typewriter in this spot.

I understand we're under an invasion of economic doom and gloom, but no words with my directions? All of a sudden I'm playing pictionary with the flap of a box. Can I get some details?

* I put the IKEA drawer together upside down and backwards. And the front panel fell off. FAIL.

** The alarm clock was set to military time for the first 12 hours I owned it. Had to find a Logitech message board for help.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Best / Worst - Purchases edition

Ever look at a meaningless item sitting on your living room floor and wonder what the hell it is? Rather, when you bought it and why? This post is dedicated to the periods of purchaser remorse and regret, but also to the few times an item is worth retail fee.

So, I give you the best and worst purchases of the last year. Yes, it's an odd time to do a year-in-review, but I moved to L.A about a year ago. Deal, peeps.

WORST:
The Jawbone II - Noise Assassin
Retail: $180




Hands down (and free) on this one. The only thing assassinated was any chance at getting through a phone call without being accused of speaking into a fishbowl from 50 feet down a hallway. Seriously, you should hear the utter disbelief I get from people when I use the hands free ear piece.


"Why are you in a helicopter with the door open?"

"It sounds like you're talking through a plastic bag, underwater"

"I'm hearing every third word you say, so just repeat everything three times"

Yeah, thanks Jawbone. It's not like I have any trouble with my iPhone's reception or anything. Have I mentioned that on here yet? :)

BEST:
Logitech Pure-Fi Anytime Premium Alarm Clock
Retail: $80




*I am not nominating this item for the name. Did Microsoft have a hand in that? What a joke. Much to the dismay of the Logitec ad team, I associate the word "premium" with cheap, knock off cereal at the grocery store. Whoops.

To my delight, amidst a flurry of negative reviews on amazon (no funny ones, though) this alarm clock has done the trick. The trick is, of course, not waking me up by causing a myocardial infarction a-la my old Sanyo (which I believe ran on diesel fuel.)

The Logitech is compatible with the iPhone 3G, has a two-alarm setting, and can wake you with music, radio or an anxiety-evoking buzz. The iPod music settings aren't too complex - you can build two "wake" playlists (one for each alarm) or get a potluck wake up call. This morning Logitech chose Jay-Z's "99 Problems." Interesting choice, hopefully my alarm clock isn't in the fortune telling business.

It comes with a remote, but I've yet to find the need to remotely shut down my alarm clock. In the event of this happening, I'll make a note to stop sleeping on the floor in the corner of my room.

All for now folks, more reviews to come if I ever have any money to buy another mistake.

And a movie review should be coming soon, I've been slacking on the Netflix que.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

ESPN hemorrhages with excitement over non-story


Imagine the pure joy in my living room last night as I collapse to the couch after a marathon 36 hour work session.

"All I need is a beer (Stella Artois, thanks office), some food and 10 minutes of SportsCenter" I think to myself.

Beer? Obtained and open.

Food? Plenty (as in two pieces of bread and peanut butter).

SportCenter? Houston (Dallas, actually) we have a problem.

Terrell Owens has been released from the Cowboys.

*Crickets*

*More crickets*

Ok great, thanks SportsCenter. Thanks for the breaking news, but now I'm done with it. I really don't care anymore, ok? What's that? You're ignoring my request (and every other sane sports fan's) to shut up about Owens? Awesome. Let's see how you can run this story straight into the ground, shall we?

Cue up b-roll on repeat of Owens yelling at the same people over the past two seasons? Check.

Interview Ed Werder, Steve Young, Keyshawn Johnson and Trent Dilfer while asking the same questions? Check.

Ignore all other current sports news while still showing b-roll on repeat? Check.

Show me a sports fan who gave two shits about this story after the initial mention. Why is ESPN persistent on running this guy in the ground? He got cut, get on with it. What am I - as a non-Cowboy biased sports fan - gaining from an interview with Keyshawn Johnson? And Trent Dilfer? What the hell does he have to do with anything? I can tell you the same thing these guys will say - nothing but expensive opinions. Give me the facts, and get out.

T.O is a cancer. I don't care how much talent he could, maybe, might have on any given Sunday. And don't give me that "it's his desire to win" garbage. Everyone in that locker room has a desire to win. You know what doesn't promote winning? Whining after a loss. Starting shit with your quarterback and tight end. If you can't learn how to lose, you'll never know how to win.

Grab your popcorn, T.O.

See you on the Raiders roster next season.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Your afternoon This-Human-Can-Jump-Higher-Than-Me update.

Ok, so Shannon Brown's NBA stat line resembles mine in high school (see: zeros across board) but this man can leap. Dig up some old Michigan State highlights if you don't believe me. Or just watch this...

Monday, February 23, 2009

iDive into iPhoto

With more than 5,500 pics hiding amongst the cramped corridors of my hard drive, I see no harm in sharing some of my archive. From '02 to'08, enjoy the seemingly random photos that follow:

One of the hardest days of my life. One not soon forgotten.













At a family Christmas get together. Not your average band instrument














Ah, yes. College days. Many hours spent on that roof.















Just band practice, that's all.
















Red and future knifing "victim"/KU transfer/Boston Celtic, J.R Giddens.
Without a doubt taken at Abe and Jakes.














Pretty sure Roche was issued a warrant for his arrest after not returning this costume.

















One of the funniest days of my life. I filled an entire sim card on the Midwest's NASCAR faithful. Proof that skins in public coupled with wife-beater tanline is visually stunning.














Bar Golf '06. Lots of Bar, not much golf.














First sunset at Torrey Pines. We only got 13 holes in. I didn't care,
I was +27 by that point anyway. This was when moving to California went from
an "if" statement, to "when."















But there was once last college hurrah before California. From Lawrence to Oklahoma City to Chicago, I hopped around state-by-state following the Jayhawks into March.
Just one year premature in an effort to track a champion, but I did witness the best
college basketball player I've ever seen in my life.
Behold, Kevin Durant. Monster.










By the way, if any one has any hints on how to make the text wrap around pictures, I'd obviously love them. This looks like some shit version match the caption to photo.

Epic blog post fail.

If two bad teams play in a bowl game, does anyone care? No.


Has the saturation of College Football Bowl games finally caught up to the NCAA? I know my wish (and another fellow, of reasonable importance) for CFB to adapt some kind of playoff system is falling on deaf ears, but if changes aren't made, I'm guessing we can look for more of this down the road. From the Tennessean.com:

Bowl officials announced Friday that the 2008 bowl had a $9.97 million impact on the local economy — a decrease of more than $17 million from 2007's bowl — proving home teams and hard financial times don't make for bowl games with big fiscal effect.

"It was really a worst-case scenario," said Scott Ramsey, Music City Bowl president. "You have a home team, a team that doesn't travel and a bad economy. So to have 54,000 people come to this game is a success, and it shows how the community bought into the game."


Yikes.

Now I know that's just one game, but I get the feeling this trend will continue unless systematic revisions are made in College Football's postseason structure. You can cut the games back all you want, Committee of Old Rich Guys, but the real solution lies within a playoff system. Don't blame it on the money. It's there - you just have to find it.

(Via TBL)

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Enter the rental: The Netflix experiment

So I gave in.

Gave in to the insanely annoying pop-up ads.

In to the fact that I'd be supporting a service that even remotely resembles Blockbuster*.

In to a service that could easily be avoided (see: any torrent site)

Yes, I joined Netflix.

So here's the deal. During my Netflix experiment, I'll blog a blurb about each flick I get - a mini movie review if you will. Why? Because I work in Hollywood and can't afford to have too many more conversations like this:

Anyone with a hint of movie knowledge:
"Yeah, it's just like that scene in Taxi Driver, you know where he goes crazy."

Me: Oh yeah I remember that. The one with Queen Latifah and Jimmy Fallon, right? Wait, Jimmy Fallon goes crazy?"

Point is, it can't hurt to catch up on the good stuff - classics or not. So off we go. First review? You guessed it -

Taxi Driver - I'm no film critic, haven't even earned my rookie critic badge if you ask me, so I'll stick to the basics.

What I liked: I was taken up in the mental (in)stability of Robert Di Nero's character from the jump. First, he seems vulnerable - crazy, but vulnerable, as if he can be rescued. So who's going to save him? Cybill Shepherd's character, right? Not so. Once "Travis" (Di Nero), snaps in the election office after the first date!**, it's on. I'm thinking ticking time bomb. When's he going to blow? So I wait, and wait...and finally he's lined up, heading down Nut Avenue and boom, he snaps, attempts an assassination, shoots up a building full of pimps and tries dumping the extra rounds in his own temple. The point is, Travis is crazy, yes, but Scorsese had me on my toes throughout. When's he going to blow? What's he going to do? What happens after? He's shooting a .44 cal with one arm and accuracy? I know I just gave away half the house, but I haven't revealed all, I promise.

What I didn't like:
Call me a new school fool, but some of the dialogue was more drawn out than a Strom Thurmond filibuster. I know, I know - in order to scrape at a character's depth and build emotional layers, they have to actually talk. Sorry, too many trips around the Wayne's World DVD I suppose.

Overall: B+

Next up: The Kid Stays in the Picture

* Blockbuster ranks right up there with Time Warner Cable in my book. What an awful company. Anyone who dealt with them in the heyday of rentals knows this. A Blockbuster how-to for those of you keeping score at home.
-Charge an arm and a leg for a 2-day rental (which amounts to about 18 hours of watchable movie time).
-Make it painstakingly difficult to return a movie (see: must return movie to same store rented from).
-Take away dreaded late-fee's using a nationally-charged advertising campaign only to reinstate under-the-radar later, hoping no one would notice.

Idiots. Netflix - 1, Blockbuster Free Online Rental Service With Delivery - 0

** Where was Joey Grecco for this blowup? I smell a secret 1976 taping of Cheaters!

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Dear Stray Rod,


Thank you.

Thank you for taking your grease and choke show to New York instead of Boston.

Thank you for wanting to be Derek Jeter and failing.

Thank you for adding to the 'Roid Row lineup of the great Yankees - Clemens, Pettite and Giambi.

Thank you for looking like your wore lipstick to yesterday's interview with Peter Gammons.

Thank you for your blatant interest in personal records, accolades and attention.
*See Peter Gammons interview (2/9/09)
*See $30 million contract bonus for breaking All-time HR record
*See free agency announement during Game Four of the '07 World Series

But most of all - thank you for the two World Series titles.

Love,

Red Sox Fan.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Top Ten Time

Ripping the top ten idea straight off the girlfriend's blog, not going to lie. But you know what? All my negativity could use an opponent - time for ten things I enjoy. Didn't think they existed, huh? Here we go..

10.) NPR - Yes, I listen to NPR on the way to work. Pardon me if I don't want to be spammed with offers to refinance my home in between Britney Spears' latest attempt at a "song" and news on Madonna's divorce. But more on NPR - how about the last names of all these reporters? Where do they find these people? Enjoy my attempts at spelling a couple names...

My attempt ------------Correct
Guy Risdol ------------ Kai Ryssdal
Lackshme Sing --------- Lakshme Singh
Madeline Brandt ------- Madeleine Brand
Shirley Jihad --------- Shirley Jahad
Susan Valet ----------- Susan Valot
Renee Montain --------- Renee Montagne

What if you wanted a job at NPR and your name was something like Mike Todd? Pat Sajack would be standing in the corner of the NPR interview room like "Uh, next" mumbling "only two vowels? Who is this guy kidding?"

And before you mock my attempts at spelling, please take note that I, on my quest to dominate the 4th grade spelling bee, misspelled "journey", g-o-u-r-n-e-y.

In front of the entire school.

Please hold your applause.

9. Dexter - Who would've thought being a serial killer could be so fun? Hmm, that probably came out wrong. Any who, this show is killer. Wait, let me take another stab at tha...Ok, I'm on a roll.

Bottom line? Get the DVD's or Showtime OnDemand and indulge.

8. An L.A Winter - You can count on two things during the summer in Los Angeles. One, any place east of Santa Monica will be 103 degrees by 10 am, and two, that window-based AC unit is actually blowing heat into your already sauna-fied apartment.

Don't get me wrong, I love the beach and sun and blah, blah, blah but the winters in Los Angeles are just awesome. Never colder than 55 and rarely hotter than 85. Throw in a little bit of rain, a mudslide that shuts down the Sepulveda Basin and I'm all good.

It would be nice, however, if the people of L.A learned how to drive in the rain. Seriously, you'd think we were in Japan and Godzilla was attacking - people screaming, locking up there brakes for no reason, hands ten-and-two, with wipers full speed. Calm down, pretentious house wife from Beverly Hills, it's called a drizzle!

(Screen shot from google maps on a rainy day in LA. Red means if you do not have a helicopter, you're extremely pissed.)

7. LeBron James - In case you had any doubt that this human has the most insanely perfect physique to play his sport (or any other for that matter), I present this...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IMFk0XAucp0&NR=1

(watch in high quality)

LBJ's frame is to basketball what Tiger's mind is to golf - dominant. 6'9", 276 pounds with six percent body fat? Perfectly constructed mannequin's are pissed about that. And at 24 years old, putting the sky as the limit still seems a bit low.

6. Kylie's dog, Lily - This little devil stole my heart in less than two minutes. A Boston Terrier has now been added to my things-I-really-want-but-can't-have-for-at-least-five-years list.



5. Marisa Miller - Now you know this list isn't in order of appreciation, otherwise this would be one or two. If LeBron is president of the Freakish Physique Club, Marisa Miller is the owner and has three spots on the Board of Trustees.

4. Hot Fuzz - I've had people give mixed reviews about this flick, but I seem to like it a little more each time I watch. Simon Pegg is brilliantly pissed the entire movie, and the parodies throughout are awesome (personal favorites are the Point Break references.)

3. Negative product reviews on amazon.com
- Hands down some of the funniest material on the Internet. Hell hath no fury like a ripped off, angry, anonymous consumer.

A review for the book Ulysses -
"It is the only book I can think of where the reader deserves more credit for finishing it than the author."

2. Commercials for 5-Hour Energy Drink -
First, the acting - if that's what you want to call it - is on par with MTV's The Hills. Apparently reading is not a prerequisite for the talent - either that or speaking really slow is in style.

Secondly, are people dumb enough to believe there's no crash after 5 hours? If there was no crash, it would be called Infinite Energy drink and you'd be hopped up like Bubbles on The Wire for the rest of your life.

Silly consumers. Want to feel rested? Go to bed earlier.

1. The Audi S5 - Another list of mine, the things-I-want-but-can't-have-for-at-least-ten-more-years, just got a bit more crowded.

If the NFL was officiating this blog, I'd be flagged for delay of game.

Greetings, long lost blog follower(s). Another unplanned, unexplainable hiatus from the blogosphere, and once again I must apologize.

But let's make no further haste - I'd hate to keep all three of you waiting.

Tonight's topic? The Super Bowl. Outdated? Of course. Irrelevant? Not so much. Before laying into the NFL's pinnacle showcase, I'll give props for an exciting game.

But don't start with that better-than-last-year crap. Last year was David vs. Goliath - the undefeated beast vs. the upstart America's team.

The most intriguing storyline to this year's chips and dip fest was determining who has more maneuverability - Ben Roethlisberger or a three-legged dog in a pond.

But on to my beef of all beefs - penalties and the NFL.

Will someone please explain to me the "holding" penalty in the NFL? Like traveling in the NBA, it's widely assumed that holding occurs every play. But unlike traveling, holding is not clearly defined. If you take more than two steps in the NBA (save LeBron's crab dribble), it's a travel.

So what the hell makes up a hold in the NFL? Let's take a look...

A runner may ward off opponents with his hands and arms but no other player on offense may use hands or arms to obstruct an opponent by grasping with hands, pushing, or encircling any part of his body during a block. Hands (open or closed) can be thrust forward to initially contact an opponent on or outside the opponent’s frame, but the blocker immediately must work to bring his hands on or inside the frame.


Did that help at all? Didn't think so. How about this...

Hands cannot be thrust forward above the frame to contact an opponent on the neck, face or head.
Note: The frame is defined as the part of the opponent’s body below the neck that is presented to the blocker.


Are we playing football or cramming for an anatomy final?

I know, I know, I'm being dramatic. But still, throw in 18! penalties and all of a sudden America's number one obsession (NFL) makes America's pastime (MLB) look like a Usain Bolt - fast paced and exciting.