Was Pac-Man In Town Last Night?

Dam You Pac-Man!! Who else to blame for "Making It Rain," last night in Shreveport-Bossier? I haven't been surrounded by that much wetness since guzzling 3 Yoohoo's before bedtime in the third grade. In addition to spotting a Porsche-Raft, Tuesday night was memorable for me because of my spin as a "news-dude".

Yes, I volunteered to take off my sportscaster jock for a news-reporter toupee'. And I might have gotten away with it, if not for the rather un-newsman-like wardrobe. Oh, sure... it would have been easy to stand before the camera in a handsome Joseph Abboud suit. But the "Gonzaga" T-Shirt adds a sense of... I don't know... homelessness (?) to the mix.

On with the linkage... I can't stand
the Red Sox (apologies to Dr. John and Scott Ferrell)
but this play, highlighted by
Manny Ramirez' interaction with a front-row fan,
is, in a word: stupendous.

It's over. No not the WNBA Season---the gals hit the hardwood for real this Saturday (note to self: get Tivo fixed by the weekend). What I'm lamenting is the love-lost between Romessica. Jessicony. SimpsoRomo. She says at the forefront of her relationship with the Blue Stars QB, she "... thought I had to be more intellectual". Oooohhh Kaaaay. More intellectual than... a bottlecap? An Aussie on a beer run?

Speaking of barley and hops, Lofa (My Stretch Marks) Tatupu had a few too many, leading to an embarrassing situation. AND he got nabbed for DUI.

"Fletcher Likes Elaine!"

"Fletcher's getting upset!"
"Fletcher forgot to hit record!"
"Where did Fletcher leave that raw tape?"
"Has Fletcher been eating Kung Pao at my desk?"

Am I pulling a "Jimmy/George" from Seinfeld's 6th season? Nope. Have I resorted to berating myself aloud? Not necessarily. You see, KTBS has a new sports intern. Likable fella'... he's a senior at Northwestern State University. Saints fan... Braves fan... LSU fan. Did I mention his name, yet? No? It's Jonson. Fletcher Jonson. That's right, kids... our intern's first name is 'Fletcher.' NOW check out the quotes from above and tell me I'm not going to sound like an absolute loon in the newsroom. Now, picture this: Just as I am exiting the men's room, talking on my cell phone---the party on the other line asks me who our intern is and if he is enjoying his internship. "Oh, Fletcher Jonson Very Happy." I need a nickname for The Intern, pronto'!

When it comes to animals known for their toughness, little fluffy, white puppies are normally down the list. But I'll take our Maltese whose diet includes left-over Cantina Laredo, over any hardened carnivore. There isn't a tougher animal, pound-for-pound, in the country. I returned home from a quick trek to work on Saturday afternoon, expecting Gracie (Maltese) and Baxter (handsome devil at the top of the page) to greet me upon my entrance. Key into lock... no barking. Back Door opening... no barking. "Puppies! Yo! Where'yat?" The two of them were lying side-by-side near the staircase. Didn't take long for me to realize, the white hair of Gracie was stained with blood all around her left-eye. That's when Dr. Fletcher zipped into action. The two pups remained calm, cool and collected despite the hook fastening Baxter's Rabies tag to his collar had slipped through Gracie's lower eyelid. And they were still connected! On the second attempt, I slipped the hook out of Gracie's eyelid... blood poured forth---but a dab of Neosporin to the wound, and Gracie was as good as gold. Looking back, how is it that Baxter, a rambunctious lout if you are to believe "others" in the family, didn't try to run around with Gracie affixed to his Rabies tag? I'm telling you, man... those dogs communicated somehow. I feel like the Dog Whisperer to a certain degree!

The True Top 20 Nicknames In Football History!

We have made it to Saturday... and so far (crossing fingers), no plumbing problems! Wait... do I hear water dripping? Orrrr... is the noise just inside my head? If so, MAYbe I have a sinus infection. But I digress.

Earlier this week on the radio show, we discussed one (extremely lame) version of football's greatest nicknames. John "Hog" Hannah makes the list? Heck, that's not even the best nickname among the Hannah's... How about, Daryl "Splash" Hannah? Without further ado, here is one man's opinion of the 20 Greatest Nicknames In Football History, history, history....

Do yourself a favor and start at #20 and move up the ladder!

1. Billy "White Shoes" Johnson. The man behind the End Zone celebrations that we all love today! The guys from "Queer Eye For The Straight Guy," would lament his choice of footwear in games played after Labor Day.
   
2. Dick "Night Train" Lane. Let's see... set a record for interceptions in 1952 with 14 picks. He wore number 81... and he ended his career with the Lions. No wonder, despite "Night Train's" death in 2002, Matt Millen drafted him in the sixth round this year.
   
3. Bob and Brian "Griese". Not the best nickname for a quarterback, or a surgeon. What? That's their real last name? Wow. Unfortunate.
   
4. Elroy "Crazy Legs" Hirsch. An internet rumor indicates Elroy picked up his nickname after sandwiching his body into the seats of the venerable coliseum between I-20 and Greenwood Road for the Shrine Circus back in 1949. Hey, it beats, Elroy "Smells Like Urine And Cotton Candy" Hirsch.
   
5. "Sweetness," Walter Payton. Of course, now the People For The Ethical Treatment Of Sugar Cane would boycott Bears games if "Sweetness" still danced through defenders at Soldier Field. Who isn't tired of PETOSC? Yeah... I'm with you!
   
6. William "The Refrigerator" Perry. That's not junk in his trunk---just a few heads of lettuce. Trust me, we don't need to peak into his crisper bins.
   
7. "The Assassin", Jack Tatum. He is quite the author, penning books: "They Call Me Assassin" in 1980; "They Still Call Me Assassin," in 1989; and "Final Confessions of NFL Assassin Jack Tatum," in 1996. I wonder what his next book may be titled? "I'm Still The Assassin." Or, "Looking For The Guy Formerly Known As The Assassin? Here I Am!"... or perhaps, "The Notebook (pause, pause, pause) ... Of An ASSASSIN!!"
   
8. Lou "The Toe" Groza. Remember when the former Falcons quarterback responded to Atlanta fans booing him, hence the name, Michael "The Finger" Vick?
   
9. "The Mad Stork," Ted Hendricks. Which explains my reflux as a baby.
   
10. Lester "The Molester" Hayes. Amazingly, he never really liked his nickname. I can't imagine why? What if they called you, Jim "Farts In Elevator" McGinney? You wouldn't exactly relish that, would you? Hayes, a "Star Wars" addict, referred to himself as the "Only True Jedi In The NFL," prior to Super Bowl XVIII. In that game, Joe Theismann proved to be the "Only True Princess Leia In The NFL".
    
11. "Mean" Joe Greene. The Coke ad sent his popularity through the roof. But drenching a kid with a sweaty jersey? That WAS plain Mean.
    
12. John "Golden" Richards. I used to be a Cowboys fan. Until they got rid of #83 out of the University Of Hawai'i. Speed like he possessed doesn't grow on palm trees---it came from the Mullet. You know it. I know it.
    
13. "Broadway Joe" Namath. Sure, the fur coat on the sideline... the mutton chops... the panty hose... those all should boost Namath into the top ten. But his clumsy attempt at kissing suzy kolber remind me of my own infatuation with Martina Navritalova. Bad memories > Super Bowl Victory prediction.
    
14. "Ironhead" Craig Heyward. Reminds me of a buddy in high school we called "Skillet Head." Heyward's name came from his bull-headed running style and 8 3/4 hat size. "Skillet" got his name because his face was as flat as a skillet.
    
15. "The Minister Of Defense", Reggie White. Little known fact: Originally called, "Secretary Of Health and Human Services," until Donna Shalala sued the pants off of him.
    
16. Rod "He Hate Me" Smart; He gave his therapist one of his jersey's to prove how much he wasn't swaddled as a toddler.
    
17. Anthony "Booger" McFarland. Let's just hope he didn't "pick" his own nickname
    
18. Floyd "Porkchop" Womack... That's not IcyHot you smell; it's menthol gravy!
    
19. "The Nigerian Nightmare," Christian Okoye (turned into "South Of The Equator Bed-Soaker" by Steve Atwater)
    
20. KTBS 3 Sports Star, "Slingin'" Sammy Baugh
    

I'm Plumb Tired!

When it comes to plumbing, I'm one helluva' sportscaster.

Before we touch on the

sports links and topics du jour,
a quick recap of my mad skillz
when it comes to leaky plumbing.

Just when I thought we could go a weekend without my services as a pipe surgeon---a steaming stream of water at the rent house left us with no choice but to employ Fletcher Plumbing for the third, yes third, straight weekend. At first, when I saw the steam rising from the ground directly below the hot water closet, my mind wandered to thoughts of pulling a Jed Clampett---surely that was natural gas leaking from below (Haynesville Shale, anyone?). Alas, there will be no cement pond in my immediate future. Apparently, a hot water heater, when rusted out at the top, will allow a lot of hot water to escape in liquid AND steam form. Sounds like a science project, huh kiddos? Well youngun's, you wouldn't have wanted to be within a 50-foot Auger of your ol' Uncle Fletcher when I discovered the problem. I sent enough expletives flying to warrant protection by Ducks Unlimited. Three hours and $355 later, the rent house has a new water heater (!) and she's a beauty. With the help of our new tenants (Call 'em, "Cuz"), the Kenmore Power Miser 6 (seen on the left) is up and running on Dudley!

So, if I can Plumb... what can Tim Tebow do with his hands? Oh, my... ohhhhh, my, my, my. While it's truly inspiring, if I'm the Gators center next season---I want to make sure Edward Scissorhands with a Heisman, isn't suffering any flashbacks to his trip to the Phillipines.

Speaking of the buttockel region, Charles Barkley, known during his playing days for having a rather voluminous gluteus max, explains how the Round Mound helped him Rebound.

Speaking of MAXIMUS GLUTIUS... check out this pic of Fletcher I russeled up! Yeah, it's the Sportswife!! Hee hee hee!

If you think Shaun Alexander is washed up, maybe you meant, "He will Wash-Up," as in, on the shore of Lake Ponchartrain. Well, at least the Madden Jinx has worn off---as has most of his cartilage.

And look for the Cowboys to turn up on HBO this year. With Pacman and Tank Johnson, you would THINK "The Wire" is coming back. But nooooo... How about a little Hard Knocks, Romo-Style! If Chad Hutchinson can croon his way into Todd Walker's sister's heart, then surely Tony can lock down this thing with Jessica!

LSU Cuts Ryan Perrilloose

I am stunned. Shocked I tell ya'. Knock me over (YAAAAWWWWN) with a fake I.D. The Ryan Perrilloux era never blasts off thanks largely to Ryan Perrilloux errors. What should have taken place in February has come to fruition in May: Les Miles dismisses the athletically gifted quarterback from the Tigers today:

“Ryan was given every opportunity to be a part of this football team,” Miles said. “In the end, he didn’t fulfill his obligation as an LSU student-athlete. We hope that a new beginning will benefit him. I wish Ryan and his family nothing but the best in any of his future endeavors.”

Miles may have had other good reasons to bid Perrilloux adieu'... ESPN reports the MVP of the SEC Championship game failed a recent drug test (Heck, even "I" made a "D" in Medical Terminology, the closest thing to drug testing in my milque toast life). Let's see... skipping class? Check. Missing team meetings? Oh, Yeah. (Allegedly) Take part in reefer madness? Duuuude.

I made this argument today on the radio show. This is actually "good" news for LSU and the Tiger fan base. Imagine an entire football season, or portions prior to Perrilloux's inevitable screw-up, spent waiting for the other shoe to drop. You and I know #11 would pull something during a critical stretch of the season---Alabama week... Georgia week... and just like that; after teasing Tiger faithful with his freakish skills---the season would go flatter than my abs with Jarrett Lee or the Hah-vahd man, Andrew Hatch thrown into the fire ill-prepared.

Trust me on this... and save this post. LSU will win the SEC West and be in contention for a national championship repeat with Lee and/or Hatch running the offense. Heetch. Latch. They will not have to deliver a 24-34-298 yds., 3-TD, 0-Int. performance for LSU to win 10 games. Look at the offensive line. Look at them! Now, check out the RB's and pass-catchers. Okay... you're smiling now, aren't you? And we haven't even explored the opponent's land-mines, aka, the Tiger "D".

All is well in the world of college football in Baton Rouge. Fear not, Bayou Bengal Backers... he wasn't Ryan Perrill-win, now... was he?

Friday Night Lights Into Blogs

The Sports Blogosphere is all atwitter today after last night's blind-side blitzing of Deadspin's Will Leitch on HBO's CostasNow. The diminutive St. Louis native hosted a "town-hall" meeting that focused on the Information Age and it's affect on Sports (and vice versa).

We (sports-wife and I... Baxter wasn't interested) tuned in midway through the Sports Talk Radio segment that featured Michael Strahan; noted strike-breaker and fabricator, Mitch Albom; and Chris "Mad Dog (grr)" Russo of the Mike and the Mad Dog Show from WFAN in New York. Amazingly, the brazen radio host was attacked by the "traditional" media hack and NFL star. Shocking. Strahan---who apparently has been boycotting the radio show for eight years due to unflattering remarks made by the duo, dropped this tidbit on the Body By Rake Russo: "The last time you had a uniform on was when your mom took you trick or treating." SNAP! My gene's and freakish build that's enabled me to make millions playing football, lose most of it in a messy divorce that included allegations of a gay affair and constant-need-for-attention-through-flirtation-with-retirement, enables me to make hilarity at the expense of puny man! Reports that after the show, Strahan issued a "swirly" on Russo and stole his milk money could not be confirmed.

The venom spewed in THAT segment is about as poisonous as tap water compared to the segment that focused on Blogs, and in particular, Deadspin. Here's the link to the "discussion" (Buzz Bissinger puts the "cuss" in discussion!) Warning...Language not suitable even for Sailors, Dock Workers, Howard Stern, and drunken LSU Fans. Bissinger, the Pulitzer Prize winning journalist and noted author ("Friday Night Lights") rips into Leitch like a sportscaster into a Saints pre-game spread. If you watch (or watched on HBO) the segment, it becomes obvious rather quickly that Mr. Bissinger has one thing on his mind: Berating Leitch, and vicariously, all sports blogs with his vitriol.

Okay... let's hop off the pony for a second and insert our two-cents worth. I'm 42 years old, so salty language, a poopy joke, locker-room humor, etc. isn't going to make me phone my pastor and ask for a Damning of a Blogger. There are some posts on blogs, and in particular, in the comments section of Blogs, that are tasteless and tactless. But my corneas don't burn when I read them. Most of the time, I skim over the more acidic or lascivious post-parts and concentrate on the items that entertain and/or enlighten me. I appreciate good writing as much, or more than anyone. It's communication in the most difficult manor. To create a sensation in a reader through written form takes talent, guile and thick-skin. And it is indeed a talent. From Matt Christopher books I read as a child to the uber-creative works of Christopher Moore that I enjoy now... when an author keeps my A.D.D.-A.S.S. glued to the pages between hard-covers---that author has earned my respect, my trust and my time. Time. There's the key component for me when it comes to my appreciation of Bloggers. I've got three, maybe four books that I've started in the last month sitting on my nightstand. Between the two gigs and family time, I'm too damn tired to tear through books the way I used to. But my appetite for well-written articles (Michael Silver @ Yahoo! Sports; Will, Rick and Daulerio at Deadspin come to mind) is satiated by... BLOGS!

Bissinger, Costas and their ilk, hammer Bloggers for their lack of "credentials" in writing about sports. What gives Leitch, Kissing Suzy Kolber, The Big Lead, EveryDayShouldBeSaturday, etc. the right to write and comment about sports?! Those jobs belong to J-School grads! You must have a Northwestern, Missouri or Syracuse Journalism Degree to earn the prerogative to share your opinion of a game or performance! You must work for a Television Network, or Network Affiliate in order to truly "understand" the nuances of the complex game of footballbaseballbasketballhorseracingtiddlywinks. Bullsh*t.

Do I think, for one second, that my occupation entitles me to believe my opinion on the Saints, LSU, Darren McFadden, etc. is any more right than Justin's, Billy's, Dr. Dick's, Aunt Bea's, Johnny C.'s, RP's, LuckyJack's, Brian's, Tulane's, Jeremy's, Rusty's, etc. ? Hell no. My access to events gives me one right, and one right only. To deliver to viewers and listeners a scaled down version of the game I'm covering along with post-game sound (reaction from the principal participants!). I also feel that the best way to accomplish this goal, is to "bring the viewer/listener" to the event. For instance... if a buddy of mine had tickets to the BCS Championship game but couldn't make the trip due to an unforeseen incarceration (wink-wink), but I still go to the game... and afterward, his one phone call is to me in order for me to relay to him what it was like to "be there." Bam! That's my job as a sportscaster/radio show host. Put YOU in my shoes on the sideline. However, I have no ownership of the game. If you watched it on t.v., you PROBABLY have had a better view of critical plays than I have. You very well could be given statistical information on the TV screen that arms you with more factoids than I'm getting with a camera on my shoulder. So... tell me; If you are an astute football fan---and you've just devoured a telecast, soaking in every informational nugget possible... wouldn't you be able to speak (or in this case, BLOG) about the game with an air of authority and intelligence?

That's not a dumbing down of the sports universe... It's an act of inclusion. The more voices heard... the more views shared... doesn't that make our love of sports more appreciable?

Have A Seat-Sniffing Good Time!

Who Dat Talking 'Bout Beating Them Hornets, Who Dat? Who Dat? If you're looking for a model of efficiency, perhaps my tin-foil and pipe-cleaner presentation will fill the bill... if not, check out Chris Paul's performance in the five-game "Dusting of Dallas." That sounds like something PacMan Jones will be doing in a strip-club, doesn't it?

Okay, there is "excited," when you find out
your team lands a big-time free agent...
and then there's "EXCITED!" Is it my imagination or is
the Weatherman a litt-ttle tooooo peppy regarding the jersey number.

Poor Colt Brennan. The Hawai'i quarterback bled money from the first quarter of the Sugar Bowl through his selection in the draft... He lost so much cash, Warren Buffet wouldn't draft him. The way Georgia pummeled, harassed and embarrassed him in New Orleans--I haven't seen a Rainbow Warrior exposed to that extent since Jeff Gordon made that "pit stop" on a Wisconsin farm road.

Any time Robin Leach inserts himself between Tony Romo and Jessica Simpson (Rrrrowrrr!)... it's like introducing mayonnaise to a peanut butter and banana sandwich. Keep the gross stuff away from the nuts and yellow waxy fruit.

Ronaldo LOOOOOOVVVESS the Ladies, Right Ladi... Aiiighhhhhhhh!!!

The Australian version of Stanley Steemer.

Larry Brown was not impressed with Adam Morrison's "Widespread Panic" Concert T-shirt and Madrais Plaid Shorts.

Can't you all imagine Billy zipping to work in this outfit?