So, Do You Like ... Stuff?

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 ...

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 a...

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 ...

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...

*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*...

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 the...

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 unpreceden...

*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 kno...

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 ...