Let's take it back to last year real quick. When a drive-thru doze off resulted in a pitcher's DUI and a pitcher's DUI resulted in this odd press conference in which the Kansas City's GM, Dayton Moore, chose to irrelevantly denounce pornography and allllll the domestic abuse that it's baselessly responsible for...
In the moment, you may have thought it to be a deflection mechanism that was just preposterous enough to shift the focus from Royals' starting pitcher Danny Duffy, who got a hankering for a Happy Meal after taking down a 12 pack of Heineken.
Well, if that's all it was, as opposed to a true and genuine stance against taking temporary pleasure in watching strangers have sex, then I'll be damned if they haven't stuck to that strategy more tightly than the pages of a repurposed Victoria's Secret catalogue...
You see, the picture above is not of an organization being taught the dangers of drugs and alcohol after one of their own ignored the existence of Uber and put the lives of innocent people in jeopardy by driving when he was too drunk to keep his eyes open.
This might be tough to tell given the sternness of the looks across their faces, but it's actually a group of grown ass men in their early 20's to late 30's being told that the substance that's most likely to put a strain on their relationships is the semen they've been self-inducing since middle school. Professional athletes, who may have wives and girlfriends whose access pales in comparison to that of temptation, being scolded for using a readily available muse for their masturbation. Never mind that those same guys could walk into a bar and seduce a sultry stranger using that very same internet to Google themselves. Traveling all throughout the country as well-off and in-shape borderline celebrities to play 162 games a season (plus playoffs) isn't the real killer of love and monogamy, living vicariously through the well-endowed and uninhibited while clearing both their pipes and their head is!
Oh well, at least one open-minded team has their priorities straight and is fighting the good fight against "the new drug" that is carnal instincts and sexual desires. It's not like the old drugs are still altering minds to the point in which one might find the risk of basic human safety to the reward of freshly fried chicken nuggets to be a worthy one.
UCF Police Had To Evacuate A Building On Campus When A Kid In A LeBron Jersey Threw Powder In The Air During Class
My only real takeaway here is that, depending on your mood, it has to be either hilarious or insanely annoying to be a cop on a college campus. Between petty protests, general debauchery, and the type of stupidity that - ironically enough - is only common to those attending institutes of higher education, the amount of time that goes wasted in tending to calls that our more regrettable than that of the booty variety has to be through the roof in comparison to those actually protecting the safety of society.
The chances that a blonde bro in a 'James' jersey was committing chemical warfare on a classroom by recreating LeBron's customary pregame routine are slimmer than the jeans he was probably wearing when he decided to become a viral story in the most "white male on college campus" way of all time, but you still can't take the chance.
Nope, instead you have to pretend to take yourself seriously while giving out a laughable description of the suspect, tweeting out pictures from NBA.com, evacuating buildings, and clarifying that the attention seeker was, indeed, just a rogue douchebag. I would imagine that to be very frustrating to those without a sense of humor, and if I learned anything during my college years it's that the same guys that give out noise violations with a stern face take themselves far too seriously.
According To Tony Dungy, All The Eagles Needed To Win A Super Bowl Was A Good Christian Boy Under Center
BREAKING NEWS: Tony Dungy is officially OUT on Josh Rosen. Any and all General Managers looking for the approval of a God-fearing former football coach, please update your draft boards accordingly. Also, may I suggest you start searching any and all cross bearing prayer houses for prospects at the most highly valued of position.
Kidding aside, my first instinct was to mock an NFL "analyst" for diminishing one of the best, most unexpected performances we have ever seen from any quarterback in the Super Bowl - never mind one that was a little over a month removed from backup duty - by attributing half the credit to an unseen supreme being. No matter how spiritual Nick Foles and Carson Wentz happen to be, I find the idea of Jesus H. Christ sending angels to the endzone to preside over the most ruthless and barbaric of competition to be absolutely preposterous. I don't care how many times thanks is given to God through an NFL-licensed microphone, you will never convince me that prayer has ever put a single point on the board. For that reason, I find it difficult to take Tony Dungy seriously when he abuses the platform made possible by the blood, sweat, and tears of superhuman bodies other than that of Christ to preach about the superiority of his own beliefs by directly associating them with success in sports.
Fortunately for him, I totally understand why he does. I mean, if I fell ass backwards into Peyton Manning prior to stumbling upon a Super Bowl win that propelled me into an undeserved role evaluating football players when my main criteria for doing so is their religion then I too might believe that God keeps a close eye on the gridiron. I'm no good Christian boy, but there being an almighty figure pulling the strings on the trajectory of Tony Dungy's broadcasting career is just about the only reason I can think of for it still being on the up and up. We are talking about a guy who was given the floor during NBC's most important sporting event of the year despite having no real insight other than anti-Patriots bias and pro-Catholicism bias. That better be proof that the Lord works in mysterious ways, because the only alternative is that it's proof of...::audible gasp...:: prejudice in sports media.
UPDATE: We are now "reporting" the second-hand "coaching" of spiritual beings in the sky. Ha, and they say the integrity of sports journalism has been compromised!
I can't help but feel like the oh-so-rare-occurence of canning your longtime mascot for logic unknown (but probably frugal in nature) during the offseason is enough of a reason not to give your marine life costume a human name. Seriously, if you let yourself start skimming during the reading of that tweet you might think that Derek Jeter's shameless nuking of his new organization extended to the fan friendly face the Marlins use to silently entertain all 63 season ticket holders, as opposed to the person sweating bullets behind it. Would 'Splashy' have caused too much of splash? Would Huckleberry have sued over the appropriation of 'Finn'? Whatever the case may be, Billy is undeniably a crappy name for a cartoonish fish that - combined with the internet's short attention span - makes for some easy miscommunication.
Luckily, there is one benefit to this relatively confusing - and wildly unnecessary - news break, and that is the hilariously symbolic visual of a six foot marlin with an unrelenting gill-to-gill grin heading to his locker, packing up his belongings, and dispiritingly dragging his feet out of the bleakest of buildings after 14 years on a job. It's far less funny when you think of him as the adult male that's now looking for a purpose after being one of the handful of fans that hadn't given up on the Miami Marlins over the years. The type of person that showed up - day in and day out - for well over a decade to bring joy to 30,000 empty seats is probably ever-so-slightly more depressed than the happy-go-lucky, spear-nosed fish he portrayed.
Therefore, instead of thinking of this as Derek Jeter being a cheap ass and making an example of even the most anonymously loyal member of the organization, I'll be blissfully ignorant and view it as a long-suffering human-marlin hybrid being given a new lease on life by an owner that realized his forced happiness was going to waste within South Florida's most inherently miserable franchise.
1) of strange or extraordinary character.
2) firmly kissing your child on the mouth for so long that it make Bugs Bunny feel uncomfortable.
To be honest, I don't particular care how Tom Brady shows affection towards his children. To each their own, as far as I am concerned.
That being said, choosing to do so by locking lips with his eleven year old for a longer period of time than his first crush either will or already has is weird. It's not right or wrong. It's not good parenting or bad parenting. It's not particularly heart warming or heart wrenching. It's just...weird, and if you think otherwise then I have some bad news for you, you might even be more weird.
Let's, for one second, think about Tom Brady as someone other than a 5-time Super Bowl champion who just so happened to release a reality show-esque look into home life on the cusp of trying to capture ring number six. Imagine he was your run-of-the-mill neighbor, and you showed up to a block party, and as you were mingling he interrupted a game of two-hand touch to plant a big old wet one on his boy that lasted longer than your first sip of beer. If you're honestly telling me you wouldn't stop in your tracks and slowly look around to gauge if others were similarly taken aback before chugging the rest of that beer due to social discomfort? Well, congrats on being a casual fan of interfamilial tonsil hockey. That shit is weird, and failing to admit as much doesn't make you a better or more understanding person. All it really makes you a damned liar who is scared of questioning the ways of a superior athlete that would say "dude, what the hell was that?" if you saw your friend and his/her kid look as though they were auditioning for final act of Romeo and Juliet.
And for those that don't think it's right to talk about this, here's a friendly reminder that this video wasn't shot through a window by someone who was lurking in the bushes of the Brady household. I'm sure Tommy boy had final cut on his one-on-one matchup versus time before displaying it to the outside world, and what he chose to release was a strong dose of weird that makes me even more likely to show love to my future son by giving an affectionate jab in the bicep and a "go get 'em, slugger". I'm just calling it like he wanted me to see it, and I'm calling it weird with a capital W.
Has Anyone Considered That Maybe Red Panda Should Take Some Responsibility For The Theft Of Her Unicycle?
KTVU- Someone took off with a 7-foot unicycle from the woman behind the legendary “Red Panda Acrobat” at San Francisco International Airport, and now her agent is offering a $2,000 reward, no questions asked.
And since its disappearance on Jan, 24, Rong Niu, the solo San Francisco unicyclist who juggles and balances plates on her head at NBA basketball games and universities across the country, has not been the same.
“She’s heartbroken,” her agent, Pat Figley of San Francisco-based Farallon Entertainment, told KTVU on Wednesday. ”It’s like her baby was kidnapped. She’s had that unicycle for 30 years.”
As Figley tells the story, Niu had landed at SFO from Denver and was waiting for her bag – filled with her 7-foot unicycle – to come off the conveyor belt. She saw it from a distance. But as she was about 10 to 15 feet away, someone “must have grabbed it,” Figley said. He said it's possible someone even took it by mistake, and if so, he's hoping they return it, no questions asked.
Hm, feels like Red Panda's baby was kidnapped, eh? I can see how she might consider the insanely unorthodox mode of transportation by which she has become the most preeminent provider of halftime heroics to be like a child to her, but you know where a baby has never been stolen from? Baggage claim. I agree that her unicycle should be her most prized possession, but you know what you shouldn't do with your most prized possession? Trust its well-being with an organizational entity that hasn't found a trustworthy way to tell the difference between Listerine and biological warfare.
Perhaps I'm drastically overestimating the earnings of a person that goes from city-to-city shocking and awing audiences by kicking cereal bowls onto her head, but if I were her coach my first tip would be to never fly coach. My sympathies go out to her for losing that which she held so dear for the last 30 years, but it's a goddamn miracle it took this long for disaster to strike. Both her one-wheeled bike and those bowls should have been priority baggage, and knowing their whereabouts at all times should've been a concern so primary that it never be left to hands that were secondary.
And I don't condone holding people ransom, but a paltry $2,000 dollar offer for the returning of an oddly famous woman's livelihood? If I were currently in possession of that unicycle I would be sending grainy videos of myself in a ski mask holding that damn thing outside a nondescript scrap metal yard out of principle alone. How dare she disrespect the intelligence of an airport thief! It probably costs $2,000 without factoring in the interest of three decades of sentimental value. Better up the damn ante Red Panda, because - while I would hate for it to happen - Markelle Fultz is proof positive that you can lose it overnight if you're not careful.
Michigan State Basketball Picked A Of Hell Of Time To Rock Their Equality-Driven "We Talk, We Listen" T-Shirts
Because what better to way to show you are serious about continuing to promote racial equality than by abusing that objectively good cause in a shamelessly see-through attempt to deflect from your own rampant neglect of the most disgustingly criminal form of gender inequality?!? Honestly, if the slogan "We Talk, We Listen" were just a litttttttle less painfully ironic given the circumstances, I'm sure the only thing people would be talking about is how open Michigan State's ear is to those that go under-protected. Granted, even thinking it's okay to try to change the subject is disturbing in its own right, but surely it was just the semantics - and not the time, place, and overwhelming lack of compassion given and responsibility taken - that kept this fashion statement from successfully sheltering the Spartans from the long overdue backlash from multiple covered-up sexual assaults. Some might say it's a strange time to overanalyze words that not-so-inconspicuously imply a prioritization of support to a marginalized group other than young, defenseless women, and to that I say #MeToo.
In all seriousness, what happened to the profession of public relations? Like, shouldn't all these organizations whose every move is being dissected with a fine tooth comb have at least one person on staff whose expertise is in making sure they don't appear as though they are taking sarcastic jabs at their own heinous press clippings? Hiring someone to give those entering the public eye a thee old parental once-over seems like a no-brainer in these types of situations, but it feels like every other day there's a brand or business entity that's apparently left that role unfilled. Both Michigan State's President and Athletic Director were forced into resignation for not listening, but the most visible members of the school have that empty obligation screen printed across their chests? Higher education has truly never done a more adequate job of smoking up to its name.
While I advocate for all forms of equality, I haven't exactly championed the movement. I do, however, feel pretty confident in saying that the people who have would agree that you shouldn't openly condemn one type of inequality when it appears at though your campus was a goddamn hotbed for another. The failure to see the hypocrisy in doing so is liable to have you playing dumber than Tom Izzo than in an interrogation...
Ravens' Corner Marlon Humphrey Was Arrested For Robbing His Uber Driver Of A Charger...That Didn't Fit His Phone
Go ahead, laugh at Marlon Humphrey. He undoubtedly deserves to be the butt of more than a few jokes. After all, he's a professional football player that got locked up for stealing a $15 phone charger - that was as useful to him as the power cord for a VCR - from a person who had his personal information saved in the app he used to hail him in the first place. As long as you weren't the star-crossed chauffeur who received a notification that some dude named Marlon was waiting four minutes up the road on the right hand side, thinking about this entire scenario playing out is pretty goddamn hilarious.
However, just know that while you clown him, you've likely walked a drunk mile in his stumbling, bumbling shoes before. Hopefully you haven't blown your chance at a female-dominated 4-some by threatening assault on an Uber driver in the process of stealing property that you could have inconspicuously plucked from literally any outlet in the frat house you just left, but you probably have "borrowed" someone else's phone charger at some point. Whether it be accidental or intentional, from friend or foe, as provisional or permanent, phone chargers just have a weird way of changing hands when alcohol is involved.
Now, usually those hands don't belong to two strangers that are desperately playing tug-of-war with them through an open car door, so I guess I'm far more sympathetic to his predicament than his impromptu and inebriated non-solution. Still, those fingers might get a little sticky if you're getting ready for a night on the town and the electronic life-blood in that bar is slowly trickling down. As sad as it may be, maintaining your spot on the grid is like the modern day survival of the fittest.
P.S. I'd certainly hope it was a misunderstanding. Jacking a charger you understand that you can't use is just mean spirited...
A Youth Basketball Team Finally Got Booted Out Of Their League After Wearing Blatantly Racist Jerseys For Half The Season
LBS- A youth basketball team in Cincinnati will no longer be allowed to take part in its recreational league after players wore customized jerseys featuring racist and inappropriate phrases on them.
Tony Rue, a parent who sometimes coaches the West Clermont team in the Cincinnati Premier Youth Basketball League, noticed last month that kids from the Kings Mills team had inappropriate phrases printed on their jerseys. Rue’s wife pointed out on Sunday that the Kings team was calling itself the “Wet Dream Team,” and the jersey name plates had racist phrases like “Coon” and “Knee Grow.”
“This isn’t a typo, this isn’t a mistake, these are ideas that were thought of, discussed, agreed upon by adults and kids alike, printed on uniforms…and no one thought this was a bad idea or inappropriate?” Rue wrote on Facebook, according to Chris Mayhew of the Cincinnati Enquirer.
After its fourth week in the league, the Kings team was finally kicked out when a West Clermont representative stepped in to speak to referees during the second quarter of Sunday’s game.
The game was called and the players were sent home. Dawn Gould, a spokesperson for the Kings Local School District, said Monday that the team was not associated with the school district but could not say whether any students would be disciplined.
“Today we became aware of inappropriate conduct from a team of students participating in a recreational basketball league that is not affiliated with the Kings Local School District,” Gould said in a statement. “This team has been restricted from any further use of district facilities. Kings Local Schools strongly condemns any type of hateful and racist commentary. This behavior is in no way welcome or tolerated in our schools and community.”
Well, if there's a recreational basketball league in which to literally label yourself a disgustingly prejudice point guard then apparently it's the CPYBL. I wouldn't recommend slapping a slur across your back while playing any sport, but - if you're a kid that's absolutely insistent upon identifying yourself as one of Hitler's most athletic youths - then this small town in Cincinnati is the place to do it.
Like, seriously...it took four whole weeks to come to the conclusion that the starting small forward for The Wet Dream Team wasn't the product of an amicable divorce between two loving parents whose last names were 'Knee' and 'Grow'? These little inbred bastards were damn near jockeying for playoff positioning by the time one person finally put their fucking foot down and said "alright, enough is enough, we can no longer have this 'Coon' character running up and down the floor of a middle school gym!".
A story about a group of white trash teenagers klanning together - presumably after their bigoted parents oKKK'd it - to turn thee most public of place into a platform for intolerance is somehow a bigger indictment of the league that took a full month to condemn abject racism. I mean, kicking them out on their ass isn't even a punishment. They already got the attention they were desperately seeking. Probably lasted 3.5 more weeks than they thought they would. Should have just let finish out the season and hoped no one went to the press, because the time for 'Cincinnati's Caucasian Basketball Club' to be proactive was when an entire team showed up to their first game wearing all white hoodies and the darkest fan in the stands arrived late from their spray tan.
Warren Sapp Keeps Posting A Picture Of A Vibrator On Twitter To Prove That Gifting One To A Co-Worker Isn't Sexual Harassment
Welp, that clears that up. One (unofficial) exoneration down, and it's next man up on the NFL Network's roster of former athletes in heat. Still a long way to go to prove that their wasn't a company-wide epidemic of unprompted dick exposure, but at we've taken a step in the right direction by coming to the conclusion that the gifting of a sex toy to a female co-worker in a professional setting actually has not one single thing to do with sex.
In fact, if you think it's sexual harassment to give a woman that you are contractually obligated to interact with daily a battery powered pleasure stick despite your relationship being entirely platonic then it's probably you that is the pervert. If you can't see that on your own, then let the man who does his Christmas shopping at the Hustler store provide a little visual aide (that couldn't possibly stand to make things worse) to really...ahem...hammer home the lesson...
Now do you see how stupid it is to assume that a piece of electronic equipment whose purchase includes a interchangeable "massager" for increased clitoral stimulation is a present that's sexual in nature?
Good...but just in case you forget...
When judging by the consistency of his argument, it's tough to argue that he doesn't offer a compelling point. If you completely ignore it's primary usage then the Womanizer 2Go does have some aesthetic appeal. Since there's absolutely nothing in his past that would lead us to believe that he's a deviant who is exponentially more generous with his finances when he thinks sex might on the table, can't we just give Warren Sapp the benefit of the doubt here? Who's to say that it wasn't the fancy case that drew him to it as opposed to the idea that it would be making contact with an unconquered vagina? If repetition is the key to learning then no one should remain wary of the appropriateness of passing out non-sexual sex toys in the workplace after Warren Sapp's tweet storm.
The Phillies Hired A Manager That Has An Old Blog Post About Masturbating With Coconut Oil, And One Reporter Is NOT Happy
KapLifestyle- "You’re moisturized and smelling tropical, your teeth are white and your face looks like you’ve just visited a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon. The sun has set, and the moon is out. Perhaps you have a friend nearby, perhaps it’s just you by your lonesome…well, this is awkward. I’ve promised you authenticity, honesty and openness. Take this how you wish and I’ll spare you the step by step. Coconut oil is the world’s greatest lubricant. I can’t help where your mind goes with this. Once the ball leaves the bat, I can’t steer it." (Gabe Kapler, 2014)
There's a lot of people on this planet that I would love to sit down and have a beer with. I can now officially say that Gabe Kapler has been added to that list, and reporter Howard Eskin has been crossed off in permanent marker.
Admittedly, it's probably pretty silly to talk about touching yourself on the internet if you have aspirations of coaching in the most repressed league in the entire sports landscape. However, if you listened to Gabe Kapler talk around the time he implied that going to the kitchen cabinet for reinforcements can bring you quicker to completion without the most shit-eating of grins on your face then I simply cannot relate to you as a person. If you think it's unforgivable for a grown ass man - whose look leads you to believe that he lathers a lot more than his penis in nature's lubricant - to have made an old but relevant inference about masturbation then we just never going to see eye-to-eye.
He says "what about the poor children?", and I say "the poor children" who actually understand the half-serious storytelling of the Phillies new manager will be far better off having not resorted to the misguided use of shampoo. He tries to make it seem like jerking off is a sin, and I think he's nothing short of a jerk off for doing so. He wants the Philadelphia to hire a someone whose manhood hasn't been used for anything but procreation, and I think that's the type of counterproductive mindset that is killing baseball. He believes managers shouldn't waste their time touching themselves, and I think considering efficiency while engaging in a necessary evil is the mark of a good administrator. After all, some might not like the lesson but Gabe Kapler is unquestionably a teacher whose job it is to now...ahem...get the most out of his young players.
Howard Eskin and I are just fundamentally different people that could only ever share an opinion on a more explicit use for coconut oil if he got rid of his "knock it before you try it" philosophy. So here's to hoping he hasn't reproduced. Not only because he seems like quite the wet blanket, but because he sounds like the type of person who would set bathroom time limits to keep his son's dick dry in hopes that it helps him "develop" into the next sexually inhibited GM of the Kansas City Royals.
With A Display Of Laughable Finger Pointing, Papa John Proved That He Is None-Too-Pleased With The NFL Protests
Can you imagine getting rich off the pepperoni on the type of shitty, mass-produced chain pizza that has its costumers spending most of Monday morning casing sausage, and thinking a slight downtick in sales has more to do with NFL players kneeling than the general public realizing your food is fit for a dog bowl?
I'm not insulted that Papa John thinks he's at liberty to puff his chest out, because the NFL owners have made it quite clear that money - and to a lesser extent, sponsors - are what has them sitting in an echo chamber casually bouncing institutionally racist ideas off the wall. I am insulted that he thinks his cardboard crusted slop is beyond reproach.
Like, before angrily stomping the feet that you will never not use to stand up during the National Anthem, maybe try living up to that "better ingredients" slogan. There has certainly been no shortage of stupid fucking opinions from people who intelligence is laughably disproportional to their willingness to spew them, but this is where I draw the fucking line. If I were a professional athlete whose father died on the front lines as a war hero I might honestly consider taking a nap during the Star Spangled Banner just because some peddler of second rate sauce implied that I shouldn't.
If I made a list of things that are anti-American 'chain pizza' would be far closer to the top than 'freedom of expression', so the person whose Napoleon Complex has him speaking up as if he's taller than Colin Kaepernick on bended knee can pipe the fuck on down. He's basically wiped his ass with the American flag by disrespecting the good name of pizza in an effort to pad his pockets, so I'm glad he's eating a 5% quarterly loss. Lord knows it tastes better than his product.
A High School Football Player In Arkansas Skirted Ineligibility As A Transfer Student By Getting Married
KATV- After a winless season last year, Mountain Pine opened this season with a 35-0 loss to Jessieville. But the next week the Red Devils won. Then in week three, the team won again. Mountain Pine is now 7-1 and heading for the playoffs.
So, what changed between week one and week two? A star player became eligible.
Mountain Pine has several good players, but this player has rushed for over 100 yards in every game. He has scored 16 touchdowns in those seven victories.
He was a transfer student initially ruled ineligible by the Arkansas Activities Association. He gained eligibility thanks to a little-known and seldom-used exception: He got married to a student in the district and moved in with her parents.
Rule 16, Subsection A, Exception 6 states that if a "… student is married and living with a spouse ... who had an established domicile in the district one year prior to the marriage ..." then he or she is instantly eligible.
On Aug. 31, Mountain Pine Superintendent Bobby Applegate emailed the AAA asking, "What all information did you say you needed for our student to become eligible when he gets married besides the license?"
A week later, Applegate provided the AAA with a marriage certificate with the names of two 17-year-old students on it. Applegate also provided an email from the bride's father confirming that the teens had married "due to a certain circumstances."
"What we do is just make sure that they followed our rules and being married with a marriage certificate ... that's part of our rules," says Taylor.
KATV visited the home where this player now lives. His father-in-law decided against doing an on-camera interview but he assures that the primary reason for this union does not involve sports or eligibility.
Sixteen touchdowns in seven games? Over 100 yards rushing each time he's taken the field? Going undefeated with a team that had to drop out the previous season due to lack of participation? You're damn right this kid is married, because - regardless of what his birth certificate says - he is one grown ass man. Honestly, my biggest concern isn't that this marriage is between two children who have absolutely no idea who the fuck they are or what the fuck they are doing. Hell, it's not even the possibility that the certificate was signed in the interest of meaningless high school athletics. It's that it might soon need an annulment if Boobie Miles Jr. ends up alone in the kitchen with his wife's mom after working himself into a lather at practice. If his stats are any indication then he's 17-going-on-35 and a goatee away from competing for the hand of his mother-in-law.
In all seriousness, has one extremely odd news story ever done a better job embracing the culture of a region? It has basically all the ingredients. Take some teenage matrimony, sprinkle in a pseudo-psychotic love of football, swirl it all together with some strange loophole, spread it even throughout an unorthodox family structure, bake under one roof until playoff eligible, and - voila - the South!
I bet the writers from 'Friday Night Lights' are kicking themselves right in the ass right about now for not doing the research necessary to stumble upon a goddamn goldmine of a plot line. In fact, they may have even intentionally turned that page thinking that invoking a nuptial clause between 27 year olds playing teenagers would have been too far fetched for a show in which nearly every game ends with a successful hail mary. It's too bad they didn't do their homework on Mountain Pine, Arkansas.
A HS Football Coach Was Put On Administrative Leave After A Video Surfaced Of Him Punching A Player As A Form Of Discipline
YardBarker- A high school football coach has found himself in hot water and could be facing criminal charges after a video surfaced that showed him punching one of his players in the stomach.
According to Tony Shin of NBC 4 in Los Angeles, Beaumont High School football coach Will Martin has been placed on administrative leave after an anonymous parent released the footage. The parent says Martin disciplines players by making them close their eyes, put their hands above their heads and take a punch from him in the gut.
The parent who released the video says he or she was told Martin has done the same thing to dozens of players. Beaumont Unified School District has turned the footage over to police for investigation of potential criminal charges.
Some players have defended the coach, with one parent saying she believes people are overreacting to the punch.
“If it’s so bad, why are the kids laughing? Why are the kids thinking it’s funny?” Jessica Taylor, whose son plays for Martin, told NBC4. “I don’t see a problem with it. My son says there are drills where you get hit like that, and my son says, ‘Mom, it’s football.'”
I don't mean to be a wet blanket because I do think the culture of a sports' locker room can breed some traditions that the general public couldn't possibly understand. That said, I think we are going to have to abide by a pretty common rule of thumb here and declare that it's never a good idea to hit high schoolers whose health you've been entrusted with. Judging by the uproarious laughter, a vast majority of the team seems cool with the punishment by torso punch treatment, but - when you're technically using your authority to assault teenagers - all it takes is one uncomfortable kid and the camera lens on his cell phone to get you canned.
Simply out, for every Mrs. Taylor that raised her son to have a strong core and a tough attitude there's going to be a Mrs. Anonymous that raised her son to have a weak spine and a loud mouth. That's why it's probably better to not deliver half-hearted uppercuts to the midsections of semi-developed children. I don't think it's worthy of criminal charges considering the context provided by the video, but it's definitely worthy of a county-wide search for a new, less controversial football coach. When the best excuse that can be made on your behalf is "if it's so bad, then why are the kids laughing?" then it's safe to say you're putting yourself at too much risk, because the collective moral compass of teenage boys who may or may not be succumbing to peer pressure is a pretty juvenile last line of defense. Not trying to be the fun police, but - if job security was my concern - I think would err on the side of disciplinary wind sprints as opposed to blows to the ribcage of defenseless receivers.
In The Most Bills Mafia Move Ever, A Woman Got Caught Trying To Steal a Ketchup Dispenser From The Stadium
I have never actually seen the movie 'A Beautiful Mind' so I can't speak to the entirety of the plot. I would imagine it's about some sort of transcendent genius, and not a degenerate kleptomaniac with the strongest of affinities for condiments. I just wonder if the same could be said if it was filmed at 'Ralph Wilson Stadium' instead of MIT.
You see, this woman - for all her flaws - is special. She might not be special in the way that translates in professional accolades or financial gain, but she's damn sure special in a way that's representative of an entire city and it's masochistic football fanbase. Every Bills' fan that watched this lady snatch up a ketchup dispenser with her sticky, tomato paste fingers was in awe of the audacity that it takes to attempt such a feat, and surprising the people of Buffalo with your depravity is no small task. Putting it all on the line in an effort to attain the rarest of kitchen appliances might seem like a completed lopsided risk/reward. However, it's a risk/reward that served as proof to her peers - who spent the morning building up the beer muscles required to launch yourself through a flaming table - that this member of Bills Mafia has Godfather-esque qualities.
The Miami Dolphins O-Line Coach Sent A Video Of Him Doing Coke To A Stripper, And -Shockingly - It Has Surfaced
Some might say that a grown ass man whose job was made easier by the selection of a blue chip prospect who fell in the draft due to the untimely release of a clip of him inhaling marijuana faster than a firefighter at a grow house should know better. Some might even say it's common sense not to send an indisputable video of yourself running more lines than Al Pacino in the filming of 'Scarface' to the stripper that you have apparently been cheating on your wife with.
Unfortunately, those people just don't realize how easy it is for an emotional man to act irrationally once he's already started his downhill slalom through some fresh white. Chris Foerster may appear to be a reckless asshole who - for one extremely misguided reason or another - thought his job as an NFL offensive line coach made him as untouchable in Miami as Tony Montana. In reality, he's just the degenerate equivalent of a lovesick teen desperately ingesting his pride after (literally) putting it all on the table in order to win back the provider of his hired sexual services. It's actually pretty romantic if you're able to ignore the narcotics, infidelity, and high probability of prostitution. After all, I'm sure even a hopeless addict has standards when it comes to the type of properly reimbursed pussy he'll lick excess drug remnants from.
In all seriousness, we can end this "troubled individual" narrative that I just heard Adam Schefter refer to on ESPN. Sure, an NFL position coach who was looking for love in a laughably hopeless place and powdering his nasal cavity while on the clock has himself a goddamn grab bag of personal problems. There's no doubt that Chris Foerster was literally living the 'Vice City' lifestyle since he was presumably able to sit without suspicion through a meeting with the pupils the size of quarters. If you can duplicate your version of "normal" in the workplace after taking an 8-ball to the face then you must norrrrmally be pretty fucking high in the workplace.
That said, someone like....oh, let's say...his own (soon-to-be former) player Laremy Tunsil didn't receive any fucking sympathy and all he did was piss off his stepfather after creatively smoking a little weed in college. If you find yourself making one single excuse for this moron, or blaming the sex worker that posted a private video publicly then just know that you're partly responsible for enabling the double standards that ultimately got it released. If this was truly only intended as some sort of response to racial inequality then it was a hell of a lot more unorthodox than taking a knee, but I'll be damned if the "aww, let's get the poor guy some help" reaction doesn't highlight the hypocrisy throughout the hierarchy in NFL organizations. So yeah, send his ass to rehab because he obviously needs it, but don't tell me I shouldn't expect better out of him than I do out of the kids he's tasked with coaching up...
Former NHLer Jiri Hudler Allegedly Threatened To Kill A Flight Attendant That Wouldn't Bring Him Cocaine On An International Flight
ClickOnDetroit- Jiri Hudler is accused of threatening a flight attendant while demanding cocaine on his way from New York to Prague, according to a Czech newspaper report.
According to the report, the 33-year-old former Detroit Red Wings forward told the flight attendant he wanted cocaine. When she told him that would be illegal, Hudler allegedly threatened the woman and told her he would have his friends kill her when they arrived in Prague.
Moreover, the flight staff accused Hudler of doing cocaine in the airplane bathroom and said he tried to urinate on a food cart.
In a statement to Blesk magazine, Hudler denies the accusations.
Oh please, are we really going to act like requesting that an airline servant fetch you recreational narcotics while 30,000 feet in the air en route to the Czech Republic is a rare occurrence? You heard the lady. She said it was "illegal", not impossible. Seems like more of a "technically still in US territory" issue more than anything else. I mean, if booger sugar wasn't one of available seasonings then she failed to make an extremely important distinction to a former professional athlete whose uncanny acceleration on the ice is starting to make a hell of a lot more sense.
Now granted, threatening to have her murdered by your local cronies because she was unable to provide a "fix" to your drug dilemma is a bit excessive when the destination in question makes that potential "hit" more intimidating than any check that Jiri Hudler has ever thrown. The type of guy who openly expects cocaine to be delivered to him on a silver mirror while undergoing the inherent inconvenience of overseas travel is not the type to be treated facetiously, so I understand her level of concern. However, before we go chastising someone whose outrageous demand really makes you wonder what kind of...::sniff, sniff::...amenities the NHL was providing him, let's take a second to focus on the more important issue at hand...
Who in the hell forgot to board the blow?!?!
I feel like everyone is piling on Jiri Hudler and assuming that the high maintenance demon up his nostril is the same one responsible for the damningly downward spiral of a former 30 goal scorer's career. Pretty presumptuous if you ask me. Maybe we should just wait and see if there's any validity to this oddly specific story. And even if there is, the hypocrites might want to hop off their high horse like they have never responded to an unscratched itch by promising homicide and/or relieving themselves on a food cart while stuck in isolation with hundreds of strangers miles above solid ground.
Friendly reminder: The Lady Byng Trophy is awarded to the player that exemplifies sportsmanship, gentlemanly conduct, and a high standard of playing ability on the ice, not necessarily in the air...
A Pennsylvania Fire Chief Called Mike Tomlin The N-Word On FaceBook, But - Don't Worry - He Apologized
And this is how you know the entire message has become completely bastardized by the minds of those that disagree with it. There's no chance in hell Chief Paul Smith realizes that in saving his position with nothing more than a Chappelle-esque "sorry, I...I...didn't know I couldn't do that" and a nonsensical disclaimer about him being on vacation after using a racial slur on thee most public of platform he basically exercised the same white privilege that Colin Kaepernick initially sat in protest of...
Seriously, if there anything more caucasian than slamming the enter key on an N-bomb on Facebook, and then turning around and being like "yeaaaaah, so that was my bad"?
Oddly enough, it would actually be a lesser case of the dangerously fatal institutional racism that instigated the protests if he just doubled down on his "yes, I said it" with a "and I gosh darned meant it". What he actually did was give a bullshit apology in exchange for a prejudice pass in a profession that requires him to save people regardless of their skin color. If that's not an undeniable example of the ACTUAL problem that has become an afterthought in the petty pining over what constitutes true patriotism then I don't know what the fuck is.
We are going to continue bitching about the proper way to conduct oneself in the presence of a flag and a song while Chief Bigoty Bill is out there making a list of "no good n*ggers" whose lives might literally end up in his hands at some point. Think about that.
Just what youth sports needs. A couple strong male role models...letting their frustrations with each other result in the type of sloppy, awkward wrestling match that you'd expect to see near the bathroom of a dive bar right around last call. I don't what initially caused the argument that led to one grown man trying to choke the life out of another grown man, but I have to imagine it was something super important...like a disagreement over what situational play was less likely to get completely botched by absent-minded 8 year olds.
Seriously though, how weird would it be for me to say that I can kind of understand how something like this might come to pass? I'm not excusing the two adults that made complete asses out of themselves in front of other men, women, and children in broad day light, but you have to be pretty passionate about football to want to coach it. I'm sure that passion results in aggravation when you're trying to get little brats to stop running around as aimlessly as those magnetic pieces in the old school electric football game.
Sure, it's asininely immature to get violent in front of those that have sponge-like brains that are supposed to be learning from you, but - relatively speaking - it's more acceptable than publicly berating a 3rd grader for cutting off his route short of the sticks. Considering society's uptick in ADD, I can't fathom the patience it takes to teach kids their blocking assignments, so I'm just glad that Buddy Stephen's potential protege decided to ring the neck of someone who is of age.
I...I...I...just can't tell you why, but I find this photoshop incredibly intriguing. It's obviously ill-advised and surely at least mildly offensive to the nation that had it's prominent female monarch defaced on behalf of online fan engagement, but intriguing nonetheless. Maybe it's the attention to detail required to include the red raven eye or maybe it's the bird's unbelievably smug smirk caused by the schnoz of a 91 year old woman, but - regardless of it's level of appropriateness - that photoshop is nothing short of mesmerizing.
Now, I don't know what kind of "recreationally enhanced" thought process led a social media manager to 'Microsoft Paint' a purple bird across the face of anaristocrat that is basically the personification of nobility, but something tells me that this is proof positive that England isn't ready for it's own football team. There are probably a bunch of Londonites perturbed that their city is opening up it's stadium doors to an organization that - if only for a couple of seconds - valued retweets over royalty, and to be true NFL city you have to embrace even the most shamelessly American aspects of it's fandom.
It's a real "if you can't accept us at our worst then you don't deserve us at our best" situation, if you ask me. Granted, the version of "our best" that they get annually get treated to usually involves the Jacksonville Jaguars so I suppose I can understand their irritability, but the United Kingdom is going to have to have to let a hell of a lot more unbridled obnoxiousness slide if they want to have an NFL team all to themselves one day.