Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Spike gives me an assist with the Knicks, now leads team in assists

It’s time to take an in-depth look at the New York Knicks, because if we don’t, then nobody will know how their season might turn out, and that would be horrible for everyone involved. Of course, the question on everyone’s mind is, “Just how bad will the Knicks actually be this year?” Worse than last year? Not as bad as two years ago? Better than the Raiders? The answer to this question lies in the hands of one man – super fan Spike Lee, who is, surprisingly, not an actual member of the Knicks’ organization. Nevertheless, he should be, because he is taller than Nate Robinson and definitely more culturally relevant than David Lee. Plus, he knows what “box out” means. Regardless, Spike came by to help me grade the Knicks from top to bottom. It was mostly bottom.

Point Guard: Stephon Marbury. My wife is a fan of “Starbury” now, ever since she found out that he released an affordable brand of basketball sneakers for, ya’ know, the kids. They did a news segment on it and everything, where Stephon was kissing babies and signing autographs and stuff, and my wife was like, “Awwwwwww…I like him! Good for him with those sneakers!” Unfortunately, she has never seen Stephon Marbury actually play basketball. Apparently, neither has Stephon, who famously declared himself the “best point guard in the NBA” two years ago. But hey, I’m not going to argue with Stephon and my wife! That would just be stupid. Grade: A+++
Says Spike: People keep sayin’ that Steph’s gotta distribute the rock more, and get the team more involved. But the rest of the team kind of sucks. You go, Starbury! It’s gotta be the shoes.

Shooting Guard: Jamal Crawford. I think Crawford takes his title of “shooting guard” a bit too seriously. He’s never met a shot he didn’t like, or take, and that, coupled with Starbury’s penchant for ill-advised jumpers, makes it a wonder that anybody else on the floor gets more than three touches a game. If I were one of the other four guys on the court, I would just stand at the top of the key and wait for one of Crawford’s jumpers to clang off the back of the rim and bounce back to me, at which point I would immediately shoot the ball, so I had a chance of getting into the box score. That is called “fundamental basketball.” Anyway, all that said, when Crawford is hot – and he can definitely get hot – he is pretty much unstoppable. He’s by far the most electric player on the team, even though he’ll drive you nuts, and he has a knack for nailing the big shot. And the Knicks are going to need a lot of big shots. Like, a 25-point shot, for example. Crawford should get on that. Grade: B-
Says Spike: If it weren’t for Jamal, I probably would have given up my courtside seats by now. The buzzer-beaters he hit last year, and those 50-point games actually made the season worth it. Okay, not really, but still…

Other Guard: Steve Francis. I almost forgot about Stevie Franchise. By the way, how can you be the “franchise” and also the third guard that nobody knows what to do with? If Steve Francis is the “Franchise,” then what does that make LeBron James? A complimentary role player? I’m confused. He also loves to shoot though, which is nice. Grade: C-
Says Spike: I like Stevie, I really do. I just don’t see where he fits into this team. He was coming off the bench at times last year, and that’s just not his game. You gotta be on the court to miss shots.

Seriously, Another Guard: Nate Robinson. People seem to like Nate Robinson, mainly because his game actually exposes everything that’s wrong with the Knicks in general. He’s young, he plays defense, he hustles his butt off, and he plays a more traditional point guard role than anybody else on the team (i.e., he passes the ball sometimes, basically). His small stature – he’s listed at 5’9”, which is generous – makes him an overachiever just to be in the NBA. But he’s not a sideshow – he’s actually very talented. It was hard to gage just how talented he was last season, as his playing time fluctuated under then head coach Larry Brown. I would expect his playing time to increase this year, although it’s difficult to say considering the Knicks have 18 other guards, all making considerably more money than Robinson. But rumor has it that Isiah Thomas sees a little of himself in Robinson, which means, I guess, that Nate Robinson is in line to ruin the Knicks in 2025. Grade: B-
Says Spike: Love Nate. Love ‘em. You can feel the electricity in the Garden when he enters the game. He’s like the Jose Reyes of the Knicks, that is, if Jose Reyes barely played because there were 12 Kenny Loftons ahead of him on the depth chart.

(By the way, there would have been room here for yet another guard were it not for Monday’s news involving the Knicks’ unceremonious waiving of Jalen Rose. Personally, I could never quite figure Rose out. Was he a strong veteran presence, or an underachieving malcontent? Now we may never know the answer. Fortunately for the Knicks, it will cost them $14 million to have Jalen Rose not play for them this season, a shrewd financial move by all accounts. Other NBA teams are apparently scrambling to pay Rose more money to not play for them. So, touché, Isiah. Nevetheless, Jalen Rose will be sorely missed. Although, not really. His name will live on however, in paycheck form. Grade: F
Says Spike: I think people feel the same way about me as I did about Jalen – I liked him a lot better in 1992.)

Forward (But Really a Shooting Guard): Quentin Richardson. Quentin’s nickname is “Q,” probably because his name begins with a “Q,” which I think is genius. Q, a pure shooter, is not known for creating his own shot, but he thrived in Phoenix, where the offense was predicated on ball movement, running, and getting open looks. He seems much less relevant in the Knicks’ offense of walking the ball up the court, and then watching the guy who walked the ball up the court wave everybody off and miss a shot. Grade: C
Says Spike: Quentin reminds me a lot of Ray Allen. Actually, I’m thinking of doing a sequel to “He Got Game” starring Q as Jesus Shuttleworth’s son. It’s tentatively titled, “He Got Game?”

Center (Kind Of): Channing Frye. Showed a ton of promise as a rookie last year, but was derailed by injuries and, again, Brown’s infinite lineup changes. He has a finesse game for a big man, but he’s still one of the Knicks biggest inside threats. He might be slightly overrated, or a star-in-the-making. We may find out this year. He could be the difference between the Knicks being really, really, bad, or just bad. Grade: B
Says Spike: He’s got a great touch around the basket, and can block a shot or two. But what we really need are some guards!

Other Centers (Sort Of): Eddy Curry & Jerome James. I lumped these two together because I wanted to create the biggest bust of all time! Did it work? Who knows though, maybe Curry won’t be carrying around an extra 30 pounds this year, and maybe he doesn’t have serious heart problems. And maybe Jerome James will return the $65 million he owes the Knicks. Grade: D
Says Spike: Every time I watch Curry play, I think of the Indian spice curry, because the longer both are around, the more they stink. And don’t even get me started on Jerome James. He may be J.J., but he sure as hell ain’t dynamite.

Miscellaneous: Renaldo Balkman already has the weight of being the worst draft pick ever on his shoulders. David Lee is okay, maybe, I think. Jared Jeffries is what Channing Frye will be if Channing Frye never pans out. Plus, Jeffries is injured now, which is wonderful. Kelvin Cato? Whatever. Malik Rose will be good for fouls at the end of games, and Qyntel Woods will have to battle Q for the nickname of Q, which should be a heated affair. Grade: D
Says Spike: Lee’s the white one, right? He’s a feisty (bleeeeeeep).

Coach / GM / Alleged Sexual Harasser / General Bringer Down of Franchise: Isiah Thomas. Well, here we are. Isiah’s at the helm. I’m not sure what could possibly go wrong here. Grade: A (for comedy) / F (for results)
Says Spike: Let’s just say, if I were making a movie about this season, I’d need Sherman Hemsley, a box of Tums, and a whole lotta Benny Hill music.

Classic card of the week




Randy Johnson, 2000 Stadium Club (Topps)

It’s not like there was an exact time when the sports memorabilia phase hit rock bottom, but it was definitely the exact moment when this card was released. Hey kids, here is some dirt! Enjoy! Nothing exemplifies the purity of baseball like pre-packaged pitcher’s mound dirt, placed in a see-through peephole on the front of a baseball card that features one of the surliest men to ever take the mound. Let’s, for a second, ignore the fact that we are left to assume that this dirt is from the mound, and game, featured on this card, yet is probably from, at the very worst, the parking lot of Topps headquarters, or, at the very best, the same mound where Sam McDouche lasted an inning and a third against the Single A Birmingham Bellhops back in May of 1997. Yeah, let’s ignore that. Let’s say it is “authentic game-used pitcher’s mound dirt,” trounced upon by the one and only, very sexy Randy Johnson. So…now what? What do I do? Now that I am $10 poorer after purchasing this piece of crap card, what should I do? Show it off to my friends? Hey guys, come on over and check out my new dirt! It’s authentic! DON’T TOUCH! Geez. I mean, there’s an allure to memorabilia like autographs, game-caught foul balls, and certain baseball cards, because there are memories (memories…memorabilia, weird) attached to these things. Now we have baseball card companies jamming memories that we never had down our throats so they can make a quick buck, and their big idea is, literally, dirt. Appease the idiot masses. Let them eat cake! Nay – let them watch dirt! Seriously though, what could be lower than making us pay extra for dirt? Poop, maybe? Do they have authentic, game-used poop? And if so, how much is it? Because I don’t know about you, but I have money to burn. On dirt and feces. Apparently, other cards in this series included small splinters from “game used” bats (Ouch, my baseball card poked me in the thigh!), clippings from “game-worn” jerseys (Wait, which team wears turquoise blue with polka dots?), real nose hair (These boogers even taste authentic!), and the actual whiteheads popped out of real steroid acne (Hey, there’s blood in yours! Lucky…).

Did you know?
The Kenny Rogers' card featuring game-used dirt, oddly enough, always seemed to stick to the packaging.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Chad Pennington disses critics, sets fire to haters

You may recall (or, then again, maybe not) that I penned a column last year basically claiming that we had all seen the last of one Chad Pennington. Well, never one to shy away from being 100 percent incorrect, I stand by that story. However, it has come to my attention that Pennington is back in the NFL – still with the Jets – and actually playing pretty darn well. This was difficult for me to believe, especially considering that the last time I saw him, his right arm was dangling from his right shoulder, joined only by a piece of dental floss lent to him by Michael Strahan. So, in order to get to the bottom of this story, I had to go to the source. Not the hip-hop magazine The Source – they had never heard of Pennington, but gave him two-and-a-half mics based on the information I provided – but Pennington himself. He was kind enough to sit down for a fake interview…

Me: Chad! Get the heck in here, you big lug!

Chad: Hey, thanks for having me.

Me: Chad, let’s get down to business here, because I have a lot of things to do later. How does it feel to prove all the critics wrong, especially that racist Rush Limbaugh?

Chad: Ummm, wait – I think it was Donovan McNabb who was criticized by Rush Limbaugh. And that happened like, three or four years ago.

Me: Interesting. So nothing that he said about you being an overrated black quarterback bothered you?

Chad: I’m white.

Me: See, Rush Limbaugh would make a mistake like that. He’s a drug addict, ya’ know. But what about all the non-racist critics, who claimed that you would never throw a football again?

Chad: Well, to be honest, I don’t blame them. There was a point last season, and even earlier this year, when I questioned how effective I could be throwing the football after this latest injury. But I just worked hard to get through it, and here I am.

Me: Chad, speaking of injuries, it says here that you have had…38 surgeries in the past, ummm, week. Is that correct?

Chad: No, that is inaccurate. And also impossible.

Me: I’m sorry – I read that wrong. My assistant is an idiot, and has messy handwriting. I knew it didn’t sound right when I said it. Okay, how many weeks did it take to have all those surgeries?

Chad: Well, I haven’t had 38 surgeries, first of all. I broke my wrist a few years ago, and had surgery on that, and I’ve had two shoulder operations over the past two years. That’s really it.

Me: Is it your dream one day to have a surgery named after you, like Tommy John? Like, wouldn’t it be cool, in a few years or so, to see on the ESPN ticker, “Joe Montana Jr. to have Chad Pennington surgery, will miss remainder of season?”

Chad: I would say that my goals are more football-related, and have very little to do with having surgeries named after me. Besides, Tommy John surgery was a medical breakthrough – all of mine were pretty standard.

Me: Do you blame the Jets for bringing you back too early from shoulder problems last year, and thus jeopardizing your entire career? I would be pissed, personally.

Chad: Not at all. It was my idea to come back – I felt ready to go. It just didn’t work out.

Me: Who is a better coach - Eric Mangini or Herm Edwards?

Chad: I can’t really compare the two. They both have strong qualities, and are both great coaches. Right now, I’m on board with Coach Mangini, but I think Herm is doing a great job in Kansas City.

Me: Ummm, you were supposed to laugh at that last question – not answer it. It was a joke. Okay, try this one instead: Who is a better coach – Herm Edwards or a cardboard cutout of Richard Nixon?

Chad: Herm Edwards, definitely.

Me: Did they remove your sense of humor by accident during your latest surgery?

Chad: Not that I’m aware of. Maybe you just aren’t as funny as you think you are.

Me: Touché. Let’s move on. Minus the Jacksonville game from a couple of weeks ago, you have played excellent football this season. Many people have even said that you look like the “old Chad Pennington.” What does that mean? And if there is an “old” you, then how old are you now? Are you 50 years old? 60?

Chad: I am 30 years old. I think when people refer to the “old” me, they’re just referring to how I played in the past when I was healthy. And that’s the key to my “resurgence,” or whatever you want to call it. I’m healthy. I feel great, and that’s the reason why I’m playing well.

Me: When the Jets “locked up” Patrick Ramsey in the offseason, did you view that as a threat to your standing within the organization, or did you immediately remind yourself that this is Patrick Ramsey we’re talking about, and continue to finish your beer?

Chad: I didn’t think anything of it, to be honest. The Jets made an organizational move, and they have every right to do so. They couldn’t wait on me, and just bank on the fact that I’d be 100 percent come September. Besides, Patrick is a real good quarterback.

Me: Ha, ha! See, you do have a sense of humor!

Chad: What?

Me: Chad, do you know that two weeks ago, you were my starting fantasy quarterback? Yeah, seriously! Not that I’d ever start you regularly, but Peyton Manning had a bye. I had originally drafted Chris Simms as my backup, but then he went and ruptured his insides, so I picked you up off the waiver wire. You got me 23 points! I dropped you the next day.

Chad: Wow…I’m honored, I think.

Me: Chad, much ado has been made of your lack of arm strength. Some were even upset that, during the closing moments of your game against the Patriots in Week 2, you weren’t replaced for a quarterback that could throw a “Hail Mary” pass more than 15 yards. How does it feel that your career choice involved throwing a football for a living, but your biggest weakness is throwing a football?

Chad: I think too much has been made of it. For one thing, my arm is stronger than people realize. I mean, I did throw to Randy Moss in college. And besides, throwing the deep ball is barely a fraction of the responsibilities a quarterback has, and I think I handle my other duties pretty well.

Me: Who is Randy Moss?

Chad: Are you serious?

Me: No. That was also a joke. You’re killing me here, Chad. Talk about Eric Mangini, the man who attended the “Bill Belichick School of Coaching,” and then transferred to the “Bill Parcells School of Eating.”

Chad: Eric Mangini, if he’s not already, is going to be a great coach. He’s learning along with the rest of us, but he’s given this team an identity, and a toughness. He’s great for the Jets, and for the NFL.

Me: Rank these man boobs in order: Mangini, Parcells, Phil Mickelson.

Chad: I’d prefer not to.

Me: Chad, I know you’re the kind of guy who loves to speak his mind, and make bold predictions. Make a prediction for the Jets this year – Super Bowl winner, or Super Bowl runner-up?

Chad: Whoa, that’s getting way ahead of things. I’ll say, if I can stay healthy, and our team continues to learn this system, we’ll be very competitive.

Me: Wow, are you sure you want to say that? I smell some controversy a-brewing…

Chad: What…why? What did you write down?

Me: I wrote, “Pennington blasts Mangini’s man boobs, guarantees extreme competitiveness.”

Chad: Whatever.

Me: Thanks for stopping by, Chad. You are definitely not as black and overrated as some people claim.

Chad: Thanks. That means a lot.

Monday, October 23, 2006

Classic card of the week




Alan Ogg, 1991-92 Upper Deck

Few names rolled of the tongue like Alan Ogg, and few players rolled with less game than Ogg himself, who was the Michael Jordan of non-Michael Jordanness. To his credit though, Alan Ogg was the tallest man to ever walk the face of the earth, and was most likely, at some point in his insanely tall youth, mercilessly coerced to join the basketball ranks by some sleazy AAU coach, even though Ogg preferred science fiction novels to awkwardly running up and down a basketball court while wearing eight knee braces. One thing that separated Ogg from the other humongous, incompetent big men of his day was the fact that he actually looked and seemed kind of normal. Ya’ know, for a 12-foot tall person. Unlike Shawn Bradley, he actually had some meat on his bones, and wasn’t dunked on at least 18 times by every NBA player with the capability to dunk the ball. Unlike Gheorghe Muresan, he never used his extreme size and non-athleticism to coerce Billy Crystal to make a horrible movie. And unlike Manute Bol, he didn’t like hockey. Or boxing. Ogg was valedictorian of his high school graduating class, and he gave an in-depth thesis on the 2-3 zone, and how it related to the 1980’s American military defense tactics in Iran. Alan Ogg averaged a whopping 1.7 points per game during the 1990-91 season for the Maimi Heat. When asked how a person could score .7 points during a game, Ogg stated that it often happened when he would dunk the ball while standing under the basket, and the ball would then hit him in the head and pop out of the basket. Alan Ogg was also adept at blocking shots, but he never developed an intimidating shot-blocking celebration, such as the Dikembe Mutombo finger-wag. It was this lack of a finger wag that would ultimately drive Ogg out of the NBA, as opposing players were willing to have their shots blocked without repercussions.

Did you know?
Alan Ogg once hit his head on the Jumbotron during the opening tip-off, delaying the game 18 minutes.

Friday, October 20, 2006

Classic card of the week




*Special Friday edition
Tom Waddle, 1992 Collector’s Edge

When people hear the name Tom Waddle, they often say to themselves, “Who is that? Like, a rapper or something? Sounds badass.” But in reality, Tom Waddle was a wide receiver, who was also, strangely, white, and not very badass, unless you consider one catch for seven yards in –8-degree weather badass, which, I guess, kind of is. Poor Tom Waddle was caught in a generational gap of Caucasian wide receivers. He was too late for the days of the talented white receivers, who weren’t just defined by their whiteness – guys like Steve Largent, Phil McConkey, and Chris Collinsworth. And alas, he was also too early for the resurgence of the Caucasian wideout, where guys like Drew Bennett, Ed McCaffrey, and Wayne Chrebet thrived in the NFL despite being white. In fact, back in 1992, Tom Waddle was the only white receiver in the NFL, unless you counted Sterling Sharpe, whose great-great-great grandmother was 1/8 Irish (little known factoid*). But Tom Waddle did not let anything stop him (except opposing defenses). Back in the early 90’s, there was an ongoing debate: Who is better – Tom Waddle or Jerry Rice? On one side, you had Mrs. Waddle and three really, really drunk Bears’ fans, and on the other side, you had the rest of the world. It was a fierce debate, that rages to this day. It is raging all around me as I write this, actually. People are throwing things. Waddle made several big plays as a Bears’ receiver, including catching the winning TD pass in Chicago’s 1992 opening game, at which point he celebrated by pulling down his pants, except he had another pair of pants on underneath, which delighted the crowd, but not announcer Joe Buck, who called the celebration, “a disgrace to everything the Statue of Liberty stands for.” The Bears were penalized six yards for the start of their next game. Later that year, Waddle actually beat Deion Sanders for a touchdown, but Sanders claimed that “he wasn’t paying attention,” and demanded a rematch. When Waddle refused, Sanders agreed to race a cheetah instead, but had to cancel the event when he sprained an ankle doing something similarly awesome.

*may not be accurate

Did you know?
Tom Waddle was not nicknamed the “Polar Bear,” but he should have been.

Monday, October 16, 2006

Classic card of the week




Michael Jackson, 1992 Collector’s Edge

It wasn’t as bad being named Michael Jackson in 1992 as it was during, say, every year thereafter. There were several subtle differences between the Cleveland Browns’ wide receiver and the pop star, however. For example, Michael Jackson the wide receiver was African-American. Also, he had much bigger shoulders than the singer. In fact, Michael Jackson had the biggest shoulders ever, in the history of the world, ever. In history. Also, the Browns’ Michael Jackson had more NFL touchdowns (2) in 1991 than the King Of Pop (0), but that was mainly because Michael Jackson the singer did not play in the NFL, mostly because he did not prefer tackling grown men. The two MJs also had some glaring similarities as well. For instance, Michael Jackson the singer was No. 1 on the charts in the early 90’s, while Michael Jackson the football player wore No. 1 (even though he was the team’s No. 6 offensive option…go figure). To boot, the two men had been honing their craft since an early age. Everyone knows the foundation of Michael Jackson’s singing career, but very few realize that the other Michael Jackson had been playing in the NFL since he was five years old, along with his four brothers, Samuel L, Jesse, Action, and Stonewall. They formed a five-man team called the “Jackson Quartet,” which competed in ten-minute, sudden death football games against middle-aged women during halftime of Miami Dolphin games back in the mid 70’s. When young Michael stiff-armed a 47-year old librarian during an interception return for a touchdown, he caught the eye of an NFL owner named Art Modell, who, at the time, still had a conscience. He signed Michael on the spot, and immediately phoned in an order for extra-large shoulder pads. Only history will decide which Michael Jackson was better at his respective vocation, although Michael Jackson the football player gets five bonus points for not sleeping with boys, according to my scorecard. That puts the current score at 348-5, in favor of, ya' know, Michael Jackson.

Did you know?
The Browns’ Michael Jackson is, ironically, only the third known person on earth who does not own a copy of "Thriller," which he describes as "not Quincy Jones' finest work."

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Classic card of the week




Timm Rosenbach, 1992 Collector’s Edge

Timm Rosenbach is a name that is synonymous with Cardinals’ football. Other words and phrases that are synonymous with Cardinals' football include putrid, “tickets are still available,” basement, + 13, and “Edgerrin James immediately regrets that decision.” Timm Rosenbach stood out within the NFL landscape, not just because he was below average, but because he spelled his first name with two “m”s, an eccentricity rarely witnessed before the days of Aaron Brooks, who spelled his name with two “a”s, and who was equally awesome before he was kicked out of the league in 2006 for being “too awesome.” Mr. And Mrs. Rosenbach, since separated in an incident not related to Bill Belichick, could not agree between “Tim” – which Mr. Rosenbach claimed made his son sound like a two-bit accountant – and “Timmy” – which Mrs. Rosenbach said made her son sound like “that smelly kid you sat behind in science class in third grade.” The compromise was an unprecedented “Timm,” which, at the very least, guaranteed their son backup quarterback status for at least three years. Legend has it, Timm Rosenbach, who was not an adequate trash talker, would tell the opposing defense at the line of scrimmage, “The name’s Timm – the extra ‘m’ is for ‘make my day,’” at which point he would yell, “Hike!” and then trip over his feet in the backfield. Amazingly, Timm Rosenbach threw for over 3,000 yards in 1990, mostly as a result of the Cardinals being down 27-0 at the end of the first quarter in each game they played. He also had 16 touchdowns passes and only 17 interceptions, giving him a TD/INT ratio of 16/17, which was tops in the league among quarterbacks with an inexplicable extra letter in their first name.

Did you know?
Timm Rosenbach’s son, Jasonnn, loves science and is very smelly.

Friday, October 06, 2006

Classic card of the week




*Special Friday edition
Checklist, 1987 Donruss

Worst. Card. Ever. Seriously, whose idea was it to have a checklist? That person should be burned at the stake for wasting precious cardboard, and for dashing the dreams of innocent youngsters hoping to find a Ken Griffey Jr. somewhere in the pack they paid $3.50 for, which was money saved up from mowing the lawns of elderly neighbors throughout their block. What a crock of poop the checklist card is. Let’s examine the reasons why: 1) Do you know anyone – anyone? – who actually checked the boxes off of the cards they acquired? Really though, anyone? I don’t know a single person who did this, and if I had, I definitely wouldn’t have traded baseball cards with this hypothetical idiot. Although, I would have checked off boxes when this person wasn’t looking, making them they think they had a 1987 Odell Jones card, when in fact, they didn’t, which would have thrown off everything in their precious little world. (By the way, I didn’t even know anyone who tried to complete sets randomly like this. If you wanted a set, you bought the whole thing for like $40 or $50 – you didn’t spend $800 on individual packs, thus ending up with 97 worthless Dickie Thon cards and 48 checklists. I’m just saying.) 2) Anybody who knows anything about baseball cards knows that you can’t write on them, or they tend to lose their value. So, let’s say you are trying to complete a set, and you’re checking off your checklists like a total jackass, and then…you’re done! Hooray, except now your checklist cards are worthless because you wrote all over them like a complete douchebag. So now you have to go looking for checklist cards to complete your set, which means you have to buy at least 23 more packs of cards, because card stores didn’t usually sell checklist cards individually. 3) And this is probably the worst one. You know what card is always featured on the checklist? The checklist. Are you freakin’ kidding me?! Hey kids, make sure you get the checklist so you can check off your checklist! What a vicious cycle. May the checklist card burn in hell.

Did you know?
Checklist cards went by the number on the back of each card, not by individual talent, which is the only reason why Bobby Bonilla is ahead of Checklist.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Classic card of the week




Random guy, 1992 Pro Set

Yeah, I mean…wow. This is one hell of a card right here, and I’m not even sure where to start. I suppose we can begin with the hat, which is really, I mean…I don’t even know. Then, let’s move on to the wedding ring, which specifies that yes, this man is, in fact, married. Possibly to a woman. Definitely to the Cleveland Browns. (The ring may also indicate that the hat was someone else’s handiwork: “Hey Loretta – get the hell over here and sew these heads onto my Browns cap. And where the hell is the f*$#@* sauerkraut?!” From there, let’s move on to what may be my favorite aspect of this card, which is saying a lot. This guy appears to be sleeping during a Browns’ game, and the card is entitled “Spirit of the Game.” That is some freakin’ spirit right there. It could just be that this guy, an obvious lifelong Browns’ fan, is simply closing his eyes during a crucial play of the game, not really wanting to witness the manner in which the Cleveland Browns are going to blow the game in question. Or maybe they just put Todd Philcox in the game. Either way, I’m sure there is nary a small piece of cardboard in the entire universe that so adequately sums up the vast ineptitude of the Cleveland Browns than this very card. One more thing. After the initial shock of this card wears off (if ever), you realize that, okay, this guy is just a member of the Dawg Pound (who just happens to be sleeping, of course). But, ummm…where is everybody else? Where is the rest of the Dawg Pound? I’ve seen the Dawg Pound, and I would imagine that it’s virtually impossible to take a picture of one of them without getting another a) beer gut, b) dog mask, or c) beer gut in the picture. So…what the heck? Was this guy outcasted from the Dawg Pound? Is he actually at his son’s Pop Warner game? Either way, you can’t question his spirit.

Did you know?
Other “Spirit of the Game” fan cards include one of William Ligue, Jr. and his son attacking Royals’ first base coach Tom Gamboa back in 2002, and that idiot who jumped into the netting at the Yankee game last year.