Tuesday, February 06, 2007
A Potpourri of Poop
By SG2.0
With the annual Super Bowl hangover upon us and the "House that Estrogen Built" (i.e. the apartment I live in with the Sports Chick) in full-flegded fiesta mode due to Valentine's Day coming up in a couple of weeks, there's currently a potpourri of poop running through my mind.
I mean where does one turn in this February malaise?
And is it truly that sad that my life revolves around sports so much to the point that I usually declare February my least favorite month?
I mean we're weeks away from WrestleMania and the NCAA Tournament. The Royal Rumble and NFL Playoffs are in the rear-view mirror and I certainly don't want to start dissecting the Red Sox pitching rotation at this stage.
My beloved Celtics blow a fatty-bo-batty and I can't get any satisfaction watching any of the other teams in the NBA right now. In fact, this whole DirecTV NBA League Pass deal is truly grating at me now. I would have been better off taking my $179 and buying 15 of those water bottles that members of the Vick family like to bring to airports. Those are fun. And I'm thinkin' that would keep me relatively mellow for the entire month.
Simmons just ain't cuttin' it right now either, although I can't be too harsh considering the wonderful job he did during Super Bowl week. He was able to rekindle a ton of memories for me and my buddy Loon from our infamous Spring Break trip to Miami. With the budget me and him were on that glorious week, hotels weren't even a remote option. Certainly not when you had to buy $100 worth of booze and McDonald's each day.
Instead we shacked up at the lovely Hotel Lexus, which was a luxury suite that had a beautiful view of a large concrete wall. In leiman's term's ... We stayed in a fuckin' parking garage. Yup. In my friend's parents car (although a nice car at that)...in a fuckin' parking garage.
In truth, I wouldn't have had it any other way.
So thank you for the brief memories Simmons and job well done. Although I'm 100 percent convinced that you were drunk for the entire ordeal. That being said, please move to Miami and become the alcoholic we all want you too.
Oh ya, and leave ESPN. They suck.
.............
On the other hand ESPN did bring me my first possible piece of sporting sanity on Monday night when they were broadcasting live from beautiful confines of Gampel Pavilion. Looking at my former place of employment (student paper days) and part-time home to one of the greatest streaks in the history of sports (my sporting event booze-smuggling streak, R.I.P. May 21, 2000 - Nov. 18, 2004) in high-definition for the first time was a thing of beauty.
The blonde, 4-foot-2 cheerleader with the bow in her hair looked that much hotter. Jim Boeheim looked that much nerdier. And Jim Calhoun's strange skin condition looked that much scarier.
Good bless high definition and god bless my buddy Spring Chicken for buying that wonderful box of TV yumminess (wow that was gay).
On top of that, UConn actually won a Big East game! Could it be possible that a previously-uninspiring UConn team with 11 freshmen would save me from the despair I've felt since Brady threw that ball into the hands of Marlin Jackson?
On one night they did, and everything was right with the world.
That is, until I went home and felt the after shocks of that Buffalo Chicken wrap I had earlier in the day.
Calling the colon clinic.
By SG2.0
With the annual Super Bowl hangover upon us and the "House that Estrogen Built" (i.e. the apartment I live in with the Sports Chick) in full-flegded fiesta mode due to Valentine's Day coming up in a couple of weeks, there's currently a potpourri of poop running through my mind.
I mean where does one turn in this February malaise?
And is it truly that sad that my life revolves around sports so much to the point that I usually declare February my least favorite month?
I mean we're weeks away from WrestleMania and the NCAA Tournament. The Royal Rumble and NFL Playoffs are in the rear-view mirror and I certainly don't want to start dissecting the Red Sox pitching rotation at this stage.
My beloved Celtics blow a fatty-bo-batty and I can't get any satisfaction watching any of the other teams in the NBA right now. In fact, this whole DirecTV NBA League Pass deal is truly grating at me now. I would have been better off taking my $179 and buying 15 of those water bottles that members of the Vick family like to bring to airports. Those are fun. And I'm thinkin' that would keep me relatively mellow for the entire month.
Simmons just ain't cuttin' it right now either, although I can't be too harsh considering the wonderful job he did during Super Bowl week. He was able to rekindle a ton of memories for me and my buddy Loon from our infamous Spring Break trip to Miami. With the budget me and him were on that glorious week, hotels weren't even a remote option. Certainly not when you had to buy $100 worth of booze and McDonald's each day.
Instead we shacked up at the lovely Hotel Lexus, which was a luxury suite that had a beautiful view of a large concrete wall. In leiman's term's ... We stayed in a fuckin' parking garage. Yup. In my friend's parents car (although a nice car at that)...in a fuckin' parking garage.
In truth, I wouldn't have had it any other way.
So thank you for the brief memories Simmons and job well done. Although I'm 100 percent convinced that you were drunk for the entire ordeal. That being said, please move to Miami and become the alcoholic we all want you too.
Oh ya, and leave ESPN. They suck.
.............
On the other hand ESPN did bring me my first possible piece of sporting sanity on Monday night when they were broadcasting live from beautiful confines of Gampel Pavilion. Looking at my former place of employment (student paper days) and part-time home to one of the greatest streaks in the history of sports (my sporting event booze-smuggling streak, R.I.P. May 21, 2000 - Nov. 18, 2004) in high-definition for the first time was a thing of beauty.
The blonde, 4-foot-2 cheerleader with the bow in her hair looked that much hotter. Jim Boeheim looked that much nerdier. And Jim Calhoun's strange skin condition looked that much scarier.
Good bless high definition and god bless my buddy Spring Chicken for buying that wonderful box of TV yumminess (wow that was gay).
On top of that, UConn actually won a Big East game! Could it be possible that a previously-uninspiring UConn team with 11 freshmen would save me from the despair I've felt since Brady threw that ball into the hands of Marlin Jackson?
On one night they did, and everything was right with the world.
That is, until I went home and felt the after shocks of that Buffalo Chicken wrap I had earlier in the day.
Calling the colon clinic.
