Friday, October 29, 2010

Pick Six: The New Class

It's Friday, baby, and I've got a sickness that can only be healed by some balls-to-the-wall predicting. Before we get going, here's a commercial with Robbie Cano:

Thanks to Jason L. for sending it along. I love how the ad manages to highlight Cano's greatest attribute: speed. (He's slow as a slug, y'all.) Also, I can't see Cano ever colliding with a catcher. Totally out of his nature. And as long as we're on the complaint train, they never show the catcher dropping the ball, so presumably Cano is out. What is Craig Robinson cheering for, then? The collision itself? The other team? Chaos itself?

We'll never know. Also, my girlfriend had a dream two nights ago that I left her. We were still in NYC, and her parents were in town to help her move, and she saw Robbie Cano and Nick Swisher on the street. She called me up, hoping I'd be excited, but I didn't even care. That's when she knew it was over: I wouldn't even talk to her about Robbie Cano and the Swish.

I asked her about it some more, because even though asshole dream Shane doesn't care, real life Shane is dying to know about all Yankee incarnations, even in dreams. Here here was our conversation:

Me: What was Swisher like?

Her: He seemed pretty drunk.

Me: What about Robbie?

Her: He was kinda weird...he tried to kiss me.


1 - My girlfriend, who knew zero about sports before meeting me, is now dreaming about individual Yankees. The indoctrination is nearly complete.

2 - Swisher being drunk sounds about right.

3 - What the hell, Robbie? After all I've done for you? I don't know if I can trust you again.

4 - What is it with dreams? The brain can be a total asshole sometimes. Always got to mess with you while you're sleeping. COWARD!

But that's about enough of me. Get your backpacks and goggles on, baby, it's time for...



The Friday Pick Six is an original SCSD! game where six people make six predictions for six weeks. Along with their picks, they're allowed and encouraged to submit a 'sound-off' on any topic, sports or otherwise. When it's all done, the winner earns great honor among the people, while the two losers are exiled in shame and the three middle finishers go to purgatory, with the chance rescue their good name up to three times. To learn more about the rules, and about the current contestants, read below:

-The inaugural champ and intros to the New Class


1. Tom.

Here's how Volume Two looks:

Creatures in Purgatory: Jill, Carrie, Spike
Newcomers: Swetha & Sabreena, Nick E., Mike L.

Let's get right to THIS WEEK'S DOCKET:

1. Michigan State at Iowa, CFB

2. Missouri at Nebraska, CFB

3. Steelers at Saints, NFL

4. Broncos v. 4ers, NFL in LONDON!

5. Saturday: The Portland Trailblazers, with Spike on the bandwagon, visiting the New York Knickerbockers

6. From Spike: Total batters faced by Rangers pitcher Derek "Dutch" Holland in games 3 and 4 of the World Series (Sat/Sun)

We begin with the purgatoried gal who all but had this baby won the first go-round and who, by the by, was none too pleased with yesterday's dig on fashion blogs:


Look! I did links! After my narrow - but super deserved - defeat last "season", I've decided that I'm stepping it up a notch this time around. They're not like fancy-pants Jill's links to like real, relevant and interesting articles and such. They're totally just pictures. NSFW. (Psyche! They're completely safe for work, I just really get a kick out of that acronym's existence.)

1. This is an incredibly difficult match-up to call. (It would seem after one six-week period of participating in this, I would stop feeling the compulsive need to state the obvious like that. But I really do keep expecting one week to just have like an easy obvious pick to make. Like when I gave the Bates-Trinity field hockey option. That was fun, right?) My gut says Iowa, but I am going to take Michigan State. When in doubt, defer to team colors.

2. Missouri's are the fans that carried the goal post off the field last week, right? That was some crazy business. I don't really support fan-related shenanigans and tomfoolery. Nebraska (CORNHUSKERS!) seems like a fine upstanding team of young gentlemen, with civilized fans. Like these men, who seem to just really enjoy dressing up and are certainly completely sober.

3. I think I've made it clear the strong-bad feelings I have regarding Ben Rapistberger in the past. He's for sure no good at life, I can just tell. Problem is? He still seems to be pretty good at football. Also, I really DO like the guy with all the hair. (No joke, I found that image by Googling "Steelers Hair Guy" and by the time I got to the H-A, Google had already auto-filled the rest. I am not the only one, folks.) Steelers. But grudgingly.

4. I do not understand why we keep trying to export American football (how douchey was it that I just specified American? God, I hate that. But I totally did it.) to England. Like, they're all set on sport, what with the real football (I don't even like soccer, but it at least makes sense to me that they call it football, so I cosign on it being the "real" football. For the record, I'd like American Football to be called "Pass the Pigskin Peanut".) and cricket, which despite being 100 percent incomprehensible, has the best name ever. And let's just for a second say that the Brits DID want our football - do they seriously want the Broncos and the Niners? Doubt. It. I'm going with Northern California loyalty here. 49ers.

5. I am incredibly despondent that basketball is back. Each year, it seems to come earlier and stay later, like the very most unwelcome house guest who like never takes the hint that you hate them and you just wish they'd forget your address. But the NBA must have our house digits stored in its GPS or something because every effing year, there it is. Never even brings a hostess gift or writes a thank you card after. Because also? The NBA is rude. Whatever. Portland.

6. I'm pretty sure I used up my week's allotment of words like four categories ago. 10 batters.


I would much rather talk about jeans shopping with my mom than make sports predictions, but until Shane takes this blog in the proper direction I will relent.

1. I know Michigan St has a good basketball team this year, and based on my experience at Duke, I also know that it is impossible for a school to have both their basketball and football teams excel. IOWA

2. Now I am no astrologist, but I saw corn in the toilet bowl this morning. NEBRASKA

3. The Saints are coming off an embarrassing lose to Cleveland and will look to redeem themselves. It would be nice if they could get any of their starting RBs to return to the line up, but until then I have faith in Ladell Betts because he is a former Redskin. I am actually now remembering how Ladell played. STEELERS

4. Great, a chance for a bunch of limey bastards to sit around and talk about how we are not playing REAL football. I like the NFL sending over two craptastic teams to represent America. If Denver can rattle the new quarterback early, it will be all over for the gold miners. Plus, I bet being in higher altitudes makes jet lag have less of an effect (not based on scientific evidence). DENVER

5. Greg Oden is a beast, even from the bench. TRAIL BLAZERS (and Trail Blazers are two words Shane. I guess they don't teach accurate reporting techniques at UNC). (Editor's note: fuck.)

6. So I live in Boston where baseball is a religion. But I grew up in Maryland rooting for the Orioles, so it was more like being in a half-assed cult that always forgot to have meetings. Luckily, was able to tell me that Holland will be a "primary long reliever," so that will help since I had no idea what he did in the bullpen. I'm going with 2 innings per game, 5 batters per inning, then take back some steps to honor the Hebrew god and make sure we're digging in the right place.... 17 BATTERS



I forgot that I love the NBA. As a die-hard Sonics fan, my enjoyment of the league, well, died-hard when they were usurped by those damned villainous Sooners. And whatever joy I had left in simply watching the game was usurped by that damned villainous Kobe (note: even before the Sonics left, years of being taunted by Lakers fans meant that I hated them far more than I liked the Sonics by the end). So I'm rebounding. With Brandon Roy (Seattle Native, UW Alum). And Nic Batum (HE IS THE MOST ATTRACTIVE MAN IN FRANCE... he's the anti-Ribery). And Nate McMillen (Sonic Great). And Greg Oden's cursed knee. Actually, I lied about that last one.

The last great triumph of being a Sonics fan was getting Durant instead of Odom. I wished ill upon Odom. I'm not proud of that. Nor am I proud of the power I clearly wielded. But it's true. And rooting for him will be hard, should he ever suit up again. But that's a risk I'm going to have to take. GO BLAZERS!

Nick E.

1. MICHIGAN ST, I guess.

2. My girlfriend is from Missouri, so last week we had their game on. I was on the laptop, not really paying attention when she said “I wonder how Missouri decides which two players share the same number.” Me, not looking up: “No, you’re wrong, they’re not allowed to do that.” Her, the person that went to school in Columbia, Missouri, who
actually worked at their football games: “No, they do. See, there’s two number 11’s. They use the same numbers twice, once for offensive players and again for a defensive player.” Me, condescendingly, still not looking up: “Honey, it’s against the rules. They need everyone on the roster to be a different number for when they call penalties.”
Her: “Nick, I’m looking at them right now.”
Me: “I don’t know what you think you’re looking at, but you have to be wrong.”
Well, turns out I was wrong.
I’m also an asshole for assuming she was mistaken rather than adjusting my line of vision about six inches. I’ll never doubt a Missourian again. MIZ-ZOU

3. Oooh, an interleague matchup. I don't like the Steelers' chances without a DH. SAINTS

4. Hoo boy, these teams are awful. Should be even worse considering they now have to adjust to a 100 meter field. I wonder if Londoners do what we do with soccer: "oh man, if Wayne Rooney played this game he'd be a superstar." SAN FRANCISCO

5. The Blazers look pretty good so far, and NY plays in Boston the night before. PORTLAND

6. 12 batters


Michigan St. at Iowa: Iowa. A lot of things going on here. Iowa is coming off a heart-breaking loss. They are at home. They need this win to stay alive in the championship race. MSU, on the other hand, has been fierce. And drunk. Very drunk. Defensive back Chris L. Rucker (yes, “L”) was reinstated yesterday, immediately after serving eight days in jail for drunk driving. This was his second conviction in a year. Nevertheless, if the criminals win, they have a chance to go undefeated and pursue a national championship. So big things at stake. But I am going with the “fuck you, not on our turf” factor in this one.

Missouri at Nebraska: Nebraska. It is highly unlikely that Missouri can match their offensive explosion last week, when they had 486 yards. Nebraska comes into this game with the 10th best offense in the nation, while Missouri is the 5th best overall in points allowed. Expect a good one. Also expect Nebraska to come out on top, especially with Missouri linebacker Eric Martin suspended for his helmet hit against Oklahoma State.

Steelers at Saints: Steelers. I really don’t enjoy rooting against the Saints, or siding with the Rapist, but New Orleans is crippled by injuries. Reggie Bush has become irrelevant and may not even play. The Saints have a lackluster 4-3 record; in fact, their four wins have been against opponents with a combined 8-18 record, while three of them have been by less than a touchdown. Normally, I would say this desperation would propel them to victory, but I don’t think that they have enough firepower, Drew Brees and all, to overcome Pittsburgh’s defense.

Broncos v. 49ers: Broncos. San Fran’s QB situation is a disaster. Alex Smith is out with a separated shoulder and David Carr, well, David Carr sucks. So that leaves Troy Smith, who hasn’t thrown a pass all season. Then we have Denver, whose defense was an epic mess last week, when it allowed the lowly Raiders to score a franchise-record 59 points and prompted their head coach to publicly apologize for the loss. This one has the potential to be awesome. Or awesomely terrible.

Trailblazers v. Knicks: Knicks. Portland has Brandon Roy and the oft-injured Greg Oden, who perpetually looks like he is about 68 years old. Still, there is hope for the Knicks. Maybe I am just clinging to the misleading optimism that has gripped our great city. I mean, in comparison with the Isaiah years, this could be a dream season. There is the slightest chance we may grab the eighth and final playoff spot, which is something we last experienced when I was in elementary school. Fine, that is lie. But that is how the torture of the past few years has felt.

Total batters faced by Derek Holland in games 3 and 4: 3 batters. Oh, Derek Holland. Winner of the Super Implosion of the Week Award here at Pick Six, which I just created. His Game 2 performance was historically bad. As in, 12 of his first 13 pitches were balls and he gave up three walks, one with the bases loaded. He obliterated any hope of saving C.J. Wilson, who pitched his ass off for 7+ innings and left a 1-0 game. If I was a Texas fan – which, to make clear, will happen when hell freezes over – I would cringe at the thought of Derek Holland touching the ball again any time soon.

Swetha & Sabreena

1. It's hard to trust a team that is referred to by the name of their mascot. Can you imagine if Miami was playing and Brent Musburger said "Sebastian takes on Florida State"? That's just absurd. IOWA.

2. At this point, it's just fun to root for every undefeated team to lose and watch Boise State squirm when the BCS standings come out. NEBRASKA.

3. Pittsburgh has to get its comeuppance for the way they beat the Dolphins, and the Saints have got to wake up after losing to Colt McCoy last week. NEW ORLEANS.

4. Gave up 59 points to Raiders or just gave the Panthers their first win...hmm. Maybe the only way the Niners snap out of this funk is by playing in a foreign country. SAN FRANCISCO.

5. Isn't it kind of sad for Knicks fans that Greg Oden is the closest thing that MSG is going to get to seeing LeBron in the home opener? I still don't believe Oden's birth certificate--this is what LBJ is going to look like in 15 years. PORTLAND.

6. Really no opinion here. It's basketball season. THREE.


There you have it, gang. Time to start sorting the wheat from the chaff. Good weekend of college football coming up, and the World Series resumes on Saturday. Root for the sweep or don't root at all, says I! Have a good weekend.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Covering Game One like a Fashion Blog

(And now, we cover last night's game in the mode of the fashion/lifestyle blogs my girlfriend reads.)

The World Series!

Wow, the World Series was last night. The game was in San Francisco. Don't you guys think San Francisco is nice? Here is a lovely picture of one of the players:

What do you guys think is the best of time of day for playing baseball? Personally I love the night time!

You might also like:

The sport of basketball

Ireland, the country.

Johnny Damon, a baseball player.

POSTED BY SHANE AT 10:03 AM..............................................79 Comments



Eric says:

Shane, what a great picture! Baseball is so much fun. For what it's worth, I COMPLETELY agree about the night time!!

Louis says:

LOL. Another great post.

Christopher says:

That helmet is AMAZING. Great photography.

Franklin says:

Gosh this makes me miss San Francisco so much. Thanks for making my day a little brighter, Shane!

Nick says:

How cute! Today on my blog, I am talking about football.

Daniel says:

Could not agree more about night time baseball! Also, GREAT photo...that man seems like he cares an awful lot about baseball!

Drew says:

Uh oh, hate to do it, but I have to disagree and say that day-time baseball is best! Maybe that's just because my father used to take me to day-time baseball games, though. In any case, AWESOME job, and I hope you're not offended by my comment.

Linda says:

This blog is so F***ing lame. You dipshits need to get a life.

Theodore says:

Whoever designed that helmet deserves a sculpture award.

Jonathan says:

Whoa Linda! That is not cool at all. Maybe it's you who needs to get a life. I think Shane is doing a great job. And I'm with everyone EXCEPT Linda, great picture of that man playing on a baseball field.

MIKKI says:


Donald says:

I'm probably being a total sentimentalist here, but this post totally reminded me of the time I played baseball with my cousins. It was at their cabin in the woods, and I remember having such a good time. Oh my, I'm crying over here! :). Anyway, thanks for writing this Shane, it literally made my week.

Aristotle says:

Donald, thanks a lot, now I'M the one crying! LOL. Great comment, and like you said, great post. That photograph gave me chills.

Dr. Renegade says:

Great! Today I'm writing about trophies they have in France. You said it: it's trophy time:

Morgan says:

Ahhhh baseball! I'm sooooooooo into it.

Marcus says:

Goosebumps. Nothing else to say.

Linda says:

Hey "Mikki," shouldn't you be off floating on a fucking iceberg or something, you Swedish bitch? Even that name just screams 'Scandinavian trash'. Strap on some cross country skis and fuck off.

Emilio says:

Gosh, looks like Linda needs a vacation, hehe. Very nice writing, Shane. It looks like you totally love baseball. I'm proud of you!!

Douglas says:

SUCH a good job. This blows me away.

Anderson says:

I just spent an hour looking at star pictures on that NASA site. Thanks for making me totally unproductive, LOL. ;-).

Tooku tookiee says:


Niles says:

I think that player's name is "Vladimir Guerrero." He's a pitcher for the Texas team.

Shane says:

Oooh thanks for the info, Niles!

Niles says:

LOL no problem. My brother was a huge baseball junkie! Great blog. And I prefer night time baseball as well!

MIKKI says:


Anthony says:

Oh my, Linda's comments notwithstanding, this is one of the best posts ever on one of my favorite blogs. You've done it again, Shane. As they say in baseball, "way to knock it right out of the stadium!" (Day time baseball is my favorite.)

Chester says:

I completely agree with Anthony and yes, I totally remember announcers saying that. As a kid I was like 'what? out of the stadium? then you'd lose the ball!!' LOLLOL.

Win Prizes! says:

Win a new Winchester shotgun! All you have to do is TELL ME YOUR PENIS SIZE.

Chester says:

Anyone else notice they call it the World Series but it's only played in America?

Peter says:

Chester, incorrect, there are six Canadian teams. Nice post, great picture.

Alfonso says:

I am not gay, but I would gay marry you on the spot for this stunning post.

Mordecai the Believer says:

I'm just...speechless. The post, the comments...maybe I'm just feeling emotional today, but I literally could not stop crying.

Endless says:

Lookin' good! Check out for MEN'S SHOES, where the deals are Endless!

Kenneth says:

Wow wow wow. If this doesn't get excited for sports, nothing will. I might tune in extra early tonight!

Francis says:

That photo is utterly beautiful.

Francis says:

Eat your heart out, Faulkner.

Linda says:


Joseph says:

I come from Kansas so we don't really have baseball, but this post honestly makes me want to get on board. So well done. And who took that photo? Genius.

Montana says:

Oh man, can't believe I forgot about that Johnny Damon post.

Carlton says:

Night time all the way for baseball! More romantic!

James says:

You write like an angel.

Pass the Blame says:

Ook Ook Manna Manna BING.

A-Rod says:

This makes me sad I'm not there!

Cap'n Crunch says:

Frickin' sweet picture. Excuse the language, but that's awesome.

Nicholas says:

Is there a place to buy that helmet online?

Renforte says:

Hey you don't know me but we should hang out I have a baseball card.

Colin says:

Is it just me, or was this brilliant?

Frenchy says:

I could kiss you right now.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

A Conversation with Cliff Lee

Before we begin, some words on shopping for jeans.

(Damn, I googled 'Canadian Tuxedo' and know this: there are an almost unreasonable number of Jay Leno pictures)

Shopping for jeans, I want to tell you, is one of the most insecure things a dude ever has to do. At least this dude. It brings back horrible memories of going to the mall as a kid and trying on pair after pair before realizing that nothing looks good. Also, you have to deal with those clothing store mirrors that let you see your own body from every possible angle at once. I am one of those unfortunate individuals with a giant head, and when I was a kid it looked even more giant on my little kid body. It was the #1 thing people made fun of me for, and whenever I stood in front of those bastard mirrors, I could see why: oh God, my head really is huge.

(Life truth: you know how even the worst-looking dudes all think they're Adonis while even the most beautiful women can find fault in a heartbeat? It's because guys only look at themselves straight in the mirror, which is the best possible perspective for anyone. I could be a model if the world were two-dimensional.* Women, meanwhile, will investigate the angles using eight mirrors and advanced technology until they find one that's slightly unflattering. Then they feel bad about themselves.

*So not true.)

Nobody has made fun of me for having a big head in years, which is either because people are too nice now or it looks less huge on my grown man's body. But the trauma still lingers. Kid trauma stays with you forever. Obama could phone me up tomorrow, tell me I was a giant ugly failure who would never make anything of himself, and I'd forget it in about two days. "Oh well man, that's just Obama's opinion." But there's some chronically unemployed dude in upstate New York swearing at his wife in a trailer home and about to go huff gasoline with the boys behind the mechanic's shop RIGHT NOW who mocked my big head back in 1993, and I will still think of that motherfucker from time to time.

Anyway, jean shopping brings all this shit back. I haven't shopped for jeans in like 3 years, but the other day I was riding my bike wearing the last pair and the crotch just gave out. It was already frayed, but nobody can see that part so I was letting it go, pretending things were peachy keen. Then I tried to get off my bike and the front of the seat literally tore through the fabric. I was suspended by the crotch of my jeans and had to kind of stumble around the parking lot trying to shimmy my way off the bike seat.

That's when you know: your life is turning desperate. Get some new denim.

So I went, and a few things haven't changed:

1) When you hit the fitting room, the woman you're with will immediately disappear into the farthest obscure corner of the store. Used to be mom, now it's the girlfriend. All I want is to pop out with my jeans, show them, and pop back in. Instead, the woman who judges you will be miles away, and you have to walk the gauntlet of other shoppers who all evaluate your jeans as you search. At least some of them will be attractive women who have trained in academies to make you feel like an asshole with a single look. Then you'll find your girlfriend, and she'll say something awful like "no, those make your hips look girly." And you'll be like "you know what else makes my hips look girly? Tearing down this whole fucking store limb by limb." And you'll sulk back and take another look and be like shit, these boot cut jeans really do make me look girly-hipped. Why the fuck would anyone design jeans like that? I have the most masculine hips in the universe. People comment on them.

2) Some store won't let you use their bathroom.

3) You'll tell yourself you won't buy the J. Crew jeans. Sure, they'll be the best. They'll make other jeans look like sweatpants. But they're a hundred fucking dollars and nobody should have to pay that much for a simple pair of dungarees. Then you'll go through Lucky and Banana Republic and the Gap and wherever else and be like shit, there's J. Crew. And the J. Crew jeans will be great. And hey, there's a 10% student discount! So you'll compromise and buy a single pair.

4) Then you'll buy 2 pair of Gap jeans so you don't feel like a total wasteful spender, and you'll go on to wear the J. Crew pair 300 days in a row (washing twice) because you like them so much better.

Jean shopping is officially for the birds. See you in 2014, stores that carry jeans.

That was a lot of words about denim. Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. Let's get to business:


Background: Yesterday, it came out that Cliff Lee's wife was harassed by some idiots during a game at Yankee Stadium. People speculated whether this might affect his decision on where to play next season. I knew I had to get him on the phone, so I called him up in San Francisco really early this morning. This is the transcript of that call. Also, I had a mug of cheap vodka with me on the floor of the bedroom, so when you see a sipping sound, you know the deal.


Cliff Lee: Hello?

Me: Yo Cliff, how you be?

Cliff: What time is it?

Me: It's even later here, doggy. Believe that. (long sip)

Cliff: Who is this?

Me: It's Shane, from SCSD.

Cliff: Who?

Me: HAHA! You still got it, Cliff. How you feeling, brother? You got a big game tomorrow, right? World Series, Tim That's some momentous stuff.

Cliff: What the fuck are-

Me: Yo, okay, okay...I'll get right to the point. I read just now that some yokels got up to bothering your wife the other night in Yankee Stadium.

Cliff: Oh. Yeah.

Me: I wanted to apologize on behalf of the city. We aren't like that normally. New Yorkers can be prickly pears, don't get me wrong, but we aren't about spitting and obscenities and throwing beer. That's out of line.

Cliff: Did you read the whole article?

Me: Headline and first paragraph, homes. Any more and you wasting time and not getting laiiddddddd, am I right? (long sip)

Cliff: Well, if you'd read it, you would've seen that I'm not really concerned. I'm quoting myself now: "I brush that off as fans being fans. You can't control 50,000 people and what they're going to do."

Me: Ahhh, nice. I'm glad you got some perspective on the whole thing. So we'll be seeing you next season, word?

Cliff: Dude, I haven't made my decision yet. I'm about to pitch in the World Series.

Me: Yeah yeah, I dig. Listen, I'm reading that article now, and I just got to your wife's quote. "The fans did not do good things in my heart." I don't mean to pry here, but that sounds like something a religious person would say. Is she religious, Cliff? Is Kristen religious?

Cliff: Yes, faith is important to her.

Me: Got it. Listen, I apologize if I'm stepping on toes, but I have to ask...are really religious people super boring in bed?

Cliff: Are you fucking serious?

Me: (long sip)

Cliff: Really, man?

Me: I'm just wondering if they're afraid to really get down, you know? If they always act like Jesus might be watching, or something.

Cliff: I can't believe you're asking this...

Me: Cliff, I can tell by the way you're not hanging up the phone that you want to get something off your chest.

Cliff: That's not...that's not true, I just...

Me: Spill it out right, dog. You're in a safe place.

Cliff:'re not going to publish this?

Me: Hell and no.

Cliff: Well...yeah man, it's a little boring. We've literally got this picture of Jesus on the wall above the bed, and I think that and some other things are limiting us. I'm not like the other guys, I don't cheat on my wife on the road, but I can't help wondering what else is out there, you know? I mean, I'm Cliff Lee. Why should I be limited? Why should I have boring sex?

Me: Cliff, I have to tell you: that is some of the most selfish talk I've ever heard.

Cliff: What? But you said-

Me: I said NOTHING. Here she is, trying to raise a family with you on the road half the year, for God's sake, and you're complaining about the sex?

Cliff: But-

Me: She had to get stared at and yelled at by people from New York City, Cliff. She did that for you. And now you're going to sit here and attack her Christian values?! The one thing keeping her sane while her husband is off playing some game? I'm appalled. I'm absolutely disgusted.

Ciff: But, I just...I mean...

Me: (long sip)

Cliff: I guess...I guess you're right. I didn't even think...

Me: Yo Cliff, Cliff. Listen, big dog...I'm fucking with you.

Cliff: Wait...Really?

Me: One hundred percent. Get yourself some strange, brother.

Cliff: You think so?

Me: Yeah man, you know what they say about life being short. It ain't just talk. I got some numbers of San Francisco people if you need.

Cliff: Oh...oh thank God, you scared me!

Me: Nah, ain't no high horses in this half of the world. You're a young man. Get out and have fun.

Cliff: You're all right, Shane.

Me: You ain't half bad neither, Cliff.

Cliff: I can't wait to tell my teammates I'm off the fidelity wagon. Maybe they'll stop making fun of me.

Me: Loose lip sink a ship, Cliff. Don't forget.

Cliff: Got it! Well, I guess I'll talk to you later.

Me: (long sip)

Cliff: Hey Shane.

Me: Sup?

Cliff: I'll see you next spring in New York.

Me: Not if I see you first, sonnnn.



There you have it. That's how I made sure the NYC stuff was no big deal and also convinced Cliff Lee to cheat on his wife.

World Series tonight. Let's go Tim Lincecum!

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Stunner: After Giants Victory, Rangers and Cowboys May Swap Wins

DALLAS - The New York Giants, aka 'Death to Living Quarterbacks,' had the Yankees in their heart when they went down to Dallas and throttled the Cowboys last night. Linebacker Michael Boley came in on a clean rush and broke Tony Romo's left clavicle in the 2nd quarter, and the injury turned the tide. After the game, Eli Manning spoke about the win.

"I know this means a lot to the city of New York," he said. "After the Yankees lost, we got together as a team and said 'listen guys, we're playing for something bigger this week. We're playing to show those fucks from Texas what NYC is all about.'" He then poured out a full bottle of champagne, most of which ran down his clothes. "This is for the celebration that our heroes in pinstripes never got to enjoy."

When reached for comment, Derek Jeter sounded as if he'd been weeping for pure joy. "It means so, so much," he said. "If the Yankees can't win, the second best thing is for this city's football team to win against a team from the same region as the team that beat us a couple days earlier, if you follow me."

Speaking from his home late Monday night, Rangers manager Ron Washington was despondent. "It's almost like our win against the Yankees didn't happen," he said. "I don't want to talk about it."

Cowboys owner Jerry Jones, a larger-than-life personality who rarely lacks an opinion, was uncharacteristically somber after the loss. "It makes you wish the Yankees had just won," he said. "Then maybe we'd have won. All I can hope is that San Francisco wins the World Series so that Eli and his teammates don't feel the need for more revenge when we play again on November 14th. And thank God we don't play the 49ers or Tampa Bay this year."

Tony Romo, his arm in a sling, desperately pitched a strange proposition to the news media and anyone else who would listen. "Look, nobody in Texas cares about baseball. We've known that for years. They had to ship thousands of Mexicans up to fill the park during the playoffs. So what about this: would Tom Coughlin and the Giants be willing to trade this one small win for a Yankee AL Championship? Why not, right? New York is a baseball town! This is crazy, guys, the solution is right in front of us! It makes so much sense! Trade the wins! My God, am I the only sane one in this whole locker room? My clavicle could be healed overnight!"

When a reporter from the Dallas Morning News spoke gently to Romo about the nature of time and the impossibility of his shoulder magically healing even if a win-swap occurred, the quarterback threw his helmet against the wall and broke down crying.

But the idea of trading wins gained some momentum as the night wore on. "It just makes sense," said Ranger center fielder Josh Hamilton via cell phone. He told reporters he was driving through Waco and 'thinking about life.' "Do I want to play in a World Series? Of course. That's everyone's dream. But do I want to do it at the expense of an entire city? No, I don't. I don't think we deserve that."

In a statement released at 3am, President Obama expressed his approval. "In this age of extreme partisanship, it's heartening to watch two teams reach across the aisle- and the country- and devise a solution based on compromise and common sense. New Yorkers love baseball, Texans love football. It just works. Plus, nobody wants to see those fucking deer horns for another week. And if I have to live through one more shot of Elvis Andrus smiling like he hasn't a care in the world, I will literally go crazy and bomb the Philippines."

San Francisco Giants pitcher Tim Lincecum could barely contain his excitement when he first heard about the proposal. "This is...this is amazing," said the 17-year-old phenom while pacing around his front lawn. He spoke in a fierce whisper, trying not to wake his parents. "You know what a World Series championship against the Texas Rangers would have meant? Exactly nothing, man. I'd be embarrassed to wear the ring. But the Yankees...oh boy oh boy oh boy. We'd be legends. I'd rule the school."

NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell nearly quashed the plan early Tuesday morning when he tentatively questioned its efficacy in a special press conference. "I'm pretty sure our bylaws prevent this kind of thing from happening," he said. "I don't want to...I don't want to diminish the idea, but trading wins with another sports league seems a little nonsensical, no? Borderline illegal, maybe?"

But MLB Commissioner Bud Selig jump-started the momentum an hour later, in a press conference of his own, when he took Goodell to task. "I have a formal request for Roger," said Selig, staring dramatically into the camera. "Quit being a homo." The normally objective press gave him a standing ovation, after which Selig continued. "I believe in fair play," he told the gathering, "and it's not fair to keep a football win out of Texas, and a baseball win out of Yankee Stadium."

Critics have pointed out that Selig may have a vested interest in a Yankees-Giants World Series since the ratings would be much higher with the New York market involved. But critics of those critics are all like, "okay, Arthur Nielsen, thanks for your input. Now fuck off."

Giants coach Tom Coughlin winked at several reporters when asked if he had this scenario in mind all along. "Did I come here hoping to win so I could barter for the Yankees?" Coughlin let out a small laugh. "Maybe. I can't remember. Ask Hal Steinbrenner."

Even Al-Qaeda, not known for their love of sports, joined the debate. In a grainy video released this morning, a person looking an awful lot like Osama Bin Laden appeared to threaten the safety of a World Series crowd, but only if the World Series was in Texas. Translated from the Arabic, Bin Laden's statement ran as follows:

"Death must come to all infidels. We have decided we will probably attack the World Series. The way things stand now, it's definite. Especially if the World Series is in Texas. That's like, a sure thing, praise Allah. I'm on record, here, Americans: World Series in Arlington means a huge attack. We've been waiting for an excuse to do something cool down there. But if the World Series were in New York and San Francisco? Probably not, no. We have already done New York, it's old news. Al-Qaeda is not about repeating itself. That would be lame and derivative. And honestly, good luck getting an extremist Muslim to come within like 50 miles of San Francisco. They are all afraid of catching the homosexuality."

Toward the end of his rant, the camara operator jokingly asked Bin Laden if this had anything to do with his huge man crush on Alex Rodriguez. "Seriously, Mahmoud, shut your fucking mouth," said an enraged Bin Laden. "If you were not my sister's husband, I swear to Allah I would behead you right in this fucking cave." Bin Laden appeared to clench his fists and look around in dismay. "Why is this asshole on camera? Didn't we say no more Mahmoud on camera? Wasn't that a policy? Does nobody listen? This is why we live in a cave, guys. Shit like this." Bin Laden stood up and began to storm off before realizing he was attached to a dialysis machine. He stumbled over the wires and swore again before punching the side of the cave, screaming, and holding his hand in pain. "Turn the fucking camera off!" he concluded. "And don't forget to edit this part out in Final Cut."

The World Series begins on Wednesday, so a final decision will likely come this afternoon. Yankees manager Joe Girardi expressed optimism. "I think it's going to go our way, I really do," he said in his typical measured tone. "The loss against Texas didn't feel real, if you see what I mean. I think the Giants win last night guarantees that we'll be where we belong, in the World Series." When asked what had to happen over the next few hours to make it possible, Girardi was reflective. "It's pretty simple, as far as I can see," he said. "Roger Goodell has to quit being a total retard."

Tony Romo, meanwhile, remained optimistic. "I get what they're saying about time and the impossibility of erasing previous outcomes," he said. "But I still think if we trade these wins, my clavicle will heal. Sometimes, you just have to believe."

If the shoulder does heal, however, Giants linebacker Michael Boley vowed to break it again when the teams meet on November 14th.

Monday, October 25, 2010

The Duke Basketball Preview Special: Get Some

Folks, Nick E. is pissed. He's pissed at a world that wants to keep doubting the Duke Blue Devils. Sometimes he finds out they're talking about football and gets a little less pissed for a second, but not for long. Why? Cuz there's always some fucking human that wants to doubt the basketball team.

Let me tell you guys something: that shit ain't gonna fly this season. It just ain't. It's gonna fly worse than some of the more rudimentary early plane designs, if I may say so. It's gonna fly worse than an emu who thinks he became an eagle. It's gonna fly worse than a fellow on psychotropic drugs with some wrong ideas and an accessible roof.

But why am I flapping my lips? Point is, Nick's written the season preview, and it makes me want to punch a wall, laugh hysterically, and cry. It's poetry, if poetry wasn't so damn scared of everything. It's a walk in the park with your best friend, the girl you love, an adorable dog, and seven army tanks that will shoot anything you point at. Get. Some.

(If you find yourself desirous of more writing by Nick, may I suggest the following:

-The Duke Offseason Report
-Duke is the best team in the NBA
-The Roy Williams take-down
-The 'Zombie Singler' Theorem
-Duke-WVU Final Four Preview
-Why Duke will not repeat
-Why Duke will repeat, by Tupac Shakur
-The Duke Summer Report)


"Kyrie Irving—when it’s all said and done—he will be arguably as good as any guard who’s played in New Jersey. Any guard. Ever.”

-St. Patrick High Coach Kevin Boyle

Friends, loved ones, enemies,

I stand before you today mere weeks before the finest performance the world has ever and will ever see. Anyone with an appreciation of basketball- nay, of masterful execution in general- will marvel at what will simply be known as “The Team.” Scientists will gasp at their ruthless efficiency. Ballerinas will be humbled by their grace. Words will fail poets, context will fail historians, and I daresay a century of advancement in recording technology will fail to accurately portray just how amazing they really are. The experience of the 2010-2011 basketball season will be so perfect, so deeply moving that it is outside the limits of human comprehension.

Perhaps you’re familiar with The Team. Perhaps you know that they’re coming off a championship. If you really follow the sport, you probably know that last year they were simply the most fundamentally sound and efficient team in a pretty average year, a year without truly transcendent teams or players. Admirable, surely, you may say, but you claim this same core will change the world? Balderdash!

Well let me tell you something, fancypants: You’re wrong.

The past is prologue to this. Where the 2010 Blue Devils were the best amongst men, the 2011 Blue Devils will dance amongst gods. Allow me to introduce those whose names will be etched upon cathedrals- names so powerful that future generations will dare not speak them aloud.

Kyle Singler – I wouldn’t say calling him a man is misleading, I’d say it’s so inadequate as to be offensive. His bones are made of iron ore, his skin a combination of canvas and treated leather. It is not blood that courses through his veins, but diesel fuel and grain alcohol. At the 3 the only thing more penetrating than his drives are his eyes, and the only thing softer than his shooting touch are his flaxen locks of hair. At the 4 he can back down defenders, establish any position, and score from any angle. The deadliness of his poison stems from his potential as a match-up nightmare. Regardless of his position, he can stretch the floor to the 3 point line, shoot over guards or power through the frontcourt. Also, he conquered death.

Nolan Smith – As a senior leader of this team, he exudes the confidence that will be a hallmark of The Team. As perhaps the deadliest member of the backcourt, he can break anyone down off the dribble, hit the open man or simply pull up for his signature teardrop J. His stroke is so smooth, his aura so potent, that ovulating women should not sit courtside lest they are prepared to bear his seed. On the other end, the same power and grace that drives his offensive capabilities will shatter the poor souls of whom he chooses to defend. There is no preparation, no mercy. Like a hurricane, Nolan Smith is simply a force of nature that will do whatever he wants, whenever he chooses to do so.

Kyrie Irving – The team’s most powerful new addition. Many historians will credit him as the spark that lit the 2011 powderkeg. As the team’s point guard, he is the instrument, the driving factor essential to the team’s astounding pace. Those prone to epileptic seizures should be warned- some say his shoes do not cover feet but pure lightning. Ironically, his pinpoint passes and orchestration of the offense draw comparisons to a surgeon, despite the fact that he is more likely to break ankles than fix them. His handle is so deft bystanders will be forced to wonder where Kyrie ends and the ball begins.

The Brothers Plumlee – This dynamic tandem is called by many names (Blue Devil Air Force, Shock and Awe, Biological Weapons, No They’re Not Twins), but are simply known for protecting the airspace around the rim better than NORAD. The newest pledge class of Duke’s storied Fraternity of Big White Men (a tradition from Gminski and Laettner to Horvath and McRoberts) will amaze and astound like no one ever imagined with their trademark breakaway dunks and ferocious rejections. Opponents are looking into Backboard Insurance as we speak.

Seth Curry – You can find his preview on my own blog, Seth Curry Saves Erotic Literature. Editor's Note: This blog is the hottest thing you'll read all day.

Andre Dawkins – As a member of the Devils’ Reserve Corps, he goes above and beyond his responsibility as a peacekeeper. Whether the team needs an offensive spark or just a rest for the starters, this dead-eye shooter does his best work in quiet situations. He’ll knock you off your feet or hit you on the ground – the damage from this 3 point ballistic missile machine spares no one.

Ryan Kelly – As in the jungle, the biggest and tallest trees take the longest to grow. Spectators this year will not recognize this fearsome goliath in the post, who now stands at 6’ 11” and 240lbs (7’ 4” when he glides on clouds). He will set a record as the first man to average 20 and 10 while logging only 10 minutes per game.

Josh Hairston – While my knowledge of this player is limited, the high priest at says he has good length and solid shooting touch.

Tyler Thornton – Like any fine graduate of Gonzaga College High School, Tyler is a scholar and a gentleman. His basketball prowess, unfortunately, is too devastating to unleash on college players. When all is said and done, he will have never played in a game in which his team won by fewer than 20 points.


Good shit as always, Nick. He also wrote me an e-mail a while back that I forgot to post due to my Yankee fever. It's not exactly timely anymore, but I'm going to post it anyway. Two reasons:

1) It's a UNC bash.

2) It introduced me to the nickname "Prince Harry" for self-aggrandizing UNC freshman Harrison Barnes. I don't know if Nick coined it, or what, but it's fucking brilliant. I mean, just look at him:

I'm excited to start hating Harrison Barnes. Take it away, Nick.

UNC has dismissed Will Graves from the team.

While Graves never really lit the world on fire, he was a decent role player averaging 9.8 ppg and 4.6 rpg. This loss means 2 big things for UNC: First, their already paper thin frontcourt has one fewer option at PF. After the transfer of the Wear twins, Ed Davis going pro and Deon Thompson graduating, their frontcourt consists of John Henson (5.7ppg, 4.4 rpg) Tyler Zeller (9.3, 4.6), and Alabama transfer Justin Knox. The next biggest guy is Prince Harry at 6' 7" and 215, followed by Reggie Bullock at 6' 6" and 195.

Second, Graves was only one of 2 people that could come close to being a decent three-point shooter. He (essentially) led the team with a clip of .365 from three last year, followed by Larry Drew II at .352. No one else from last year broke .300. UNC was terrible at shooting the ball, and now they have no backups for the post, which is where they scored most of their points. Honestly, can anyone on this team score? Even if Harrison Barnes comes in and has 22 ppg non-conf and 19 ppg in ACC play (a generous estimate), they're going to need a lot of help to get points on the board.


Hell yeah they are. Meanwhile, the Dukies will be threatening the century mark every time out. Speaking of which, they won their first exhibition this past Saturday, trouncing St. Augustine's (who?) 141-68. Granted, not the toughest competition, but that's still 141 points. 46 baskets, 38 assists. This team is gonna run and gun, y'all.

Coach K: "This is a very good shooting team. We want to have more possessions because we feel we can get shots because we can spread the court. Space the court, that doesn’t mean hold the ball. And once we get accustomed to hitting our bigs, when it’s spaced, then that would be how you balance it. The thing we have to do is make sure we play defense and rebound. If we do that, then we become very good. We have a chance to be very, very good."

And I have a chance to be very, very pumped.

(Checks pulse.) Done. Go Devils.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Now It's Over

There can be no World Series.

This is a special Saturday post that exists because I don't want to think of this shit come Monday. After it was all said and done last night, I took a shower, sat down at my computer, and queued up some YouTube. I'd heard the song "Your Love" by The Outfield on the radio earlier, and I wanted to hear it again. I looked up the lyrics and sang along. The lead singer's voice is really, really high, so I probably sounded like a castrated Italian dude from 1600 or something. Anyway, the girlfriend came into the dining room.

"Have you ever been in a band?" she asked.


"Have you ever wanted to?"


OF COURSE I WANT TO BE IN A DAMN BAND. Look at me. Look at me right now. I'm listening to a song on YouTube and I've pulled up the lyrics. Do you think I'm not pretending I'm in this goddamn obscure band right now? Do you really think that? THANK YOU, HON. Thanks for ruining my night even more after the Yankees lost to the most obnoxious team in baseball by reminding me that I'm not in a band.

Do I want to be in a band. No, I want to blog about sports. That's what I want. LOOK AT MY LIFE. Have you ever seen a person that's in a band? They're way the hell cooler than this. If I was in a band, and you told me the Yankees lost, I'd be like 'oh, that's something I used to care about...before I was in a goddamn band. It doesn't even have to be a good band. If you're in a shitty band, you got the world on a string. You do any damn thing you please. You know what you don't do? Write Nolan Smith fan fiction. You don't write creepy poems about Jon Scheyer. You don't know exactly when Robinson Cano's birthday is and who he's named after. You don't have three songs that you sing when ever he comes to bat (either "I believe in miracles...when you come to bat, Robbie Cano" or the Hang on Sloopy one or the other one I can't remember). All you do is kick people's asses and play music.

Actually, I don't really want to be in a band. 90% of people I know in bands are pricks in one way or another. And actually I really like blogging.

But shit, of course I want to be in a band.

Anyway, here's what we know:

1) The Yankees lost.

2) The home plate umpire might have been the worst in the history of playoff baseball. His strike zone was abysmal. Luckily his awfulness helped us that one time when he didn't notice that Swisher got hit with the ball.

3) For the second straight Colby Lewis start, every goddamn frozen rope we hit was right at someone. Infuriating.

4) I would like to fight the entire state of Texas. Particularly a) the fat kid behind home plate waving the Texas flag, b) anyone who has ever made the deer horn or claw symbol, and c) the presumptuous rubes chanting "Yankees Suck" and every other thing when their damn team hasn't even won a World Series.

5) I'm no Philadelphia fan. Normally they're my second most hated team in MLB after Boston. But for the second year in the last three, I will root like hell for them if they happen to make the World Series. It was a giant relief when they beat Tampa in '08, and it will be the same exact thing if they beat Texas this year. Come on, America's scumbags, take it home! (Obviously the best case scenario is San Francisco winning, but I'm making allies while the sun shines and assuming nothing.)

6) The Yankee haters came out of the woodwork on facebook and twitter. At least three different people called Yankee fans 'spoiled and overpaid.' HEY DOUCHEBAGS: YOU'RE CONFUSING ME WITH THE TEAM. I'm not the slightest damn bit overpaid, believe me. I don't get paid a thing for rooting for this team. All I get is idiots like you who think you're fucking Che Guevara for rooting on a team George W. Bush used to own.

7) I still maintain that this series would be different if Girardi started AJ in game 3 against Lee and Andy in game 4. But we've been over that.

8) All 'a dat being said, hats off to Texas. They were better. They had that special something the Yankees had last year. It's nice, isn't it? Now please go get swept in the World Series.

Let's assign some quick playoff grades to the Yankees, get the hell out of here, and enjoy College Football Saturday.

Robinson Cano: A. Would've been an A+ with a better performance last night, but Robbie, you were the man. Great hitting, solid fielding, and you shone under pressure. The other teams were legitimately scared of you. You're a bright spot.

Derek Jeter: B-. Better than the regular season, but his hitting was still poor overall. Also, his lack of speed and quickness cost us a few outs at shortstop.

Nick Swisher: D-. Another choke job in the playoffs. On Thursday he went on a rant about how he was sick of hearing about Cliff Lee and wanted to face him in Game 7. But Swish didn't put his money where his mouth was.

Curtis Granderson: C+. Great job against Minnesota, poor job against Texas. I expect big things from him next year, though. After working with Long, he started hitting the hell out of the ball.

Mark Teixeira: D-. Choke job for the second straight year before his injury. Without some good defense, this would be an F.

Alex Rodriguez: F. This was the A-Rod of old, and he managed to sprinkle in some fielding boners too. Last year is looking like an anomaly.

Jorge Posada: D. Can't hit, can't catch, too old. Thanks for the years of service, Jorge, but time has run out.

Thames/Berkman: C. Was hoping for more at the dish from these guys.

Brett Gardner: D-. I expended a lot of energy defending Gardner this season, and it turned out he couldn't hit a ball out of the infield when it mattered. He avoids the F because of his head-first dive in Game One that sparked the rally.

Andy Pettitte: B+. Wish he could get that pitch to Hamilton back, but a great postseason none the less from the Yankee warrior.

CC Sabathia: B-. Never really got it together against Texas, though we did come out of his starts with two wins. Still, it took a lot of struggle.

Phil Hughes: C-. His two starts against Texas are what we should have expected based on his second half. But that Minnesota start gave us hope. You have to wonder if he's even a viable third starter in the AL East.

AJ Burnett: C. A decent effort in Game Four, but a total letdown that we couldn't count on him as one of our top 3 this season.

Bullpen except for Mo: C-. Robertson especially annoys me. Some good work from Moseley and some passable work from Wood. Otherwise, bleh.

Mo: A+. Thanks for everything, as usual.

OKAY. Time to go clean the house. Good season that came up short of great. Wish we had that AL East crown to our name, and I wish we had a pennant, but it's hard to complain about making the ALCS. Starting Monday, we talk Duke basketball. Can't friggin' wait.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Pick Six: Our First Champion is Crowned

The wait is over...the battle draws to an man is left standing...

Brace yourselves for his unholy reign. It's:



"El Dia Gloriosa Del Ranto Campeonato!"

The Friday Pick Six is an original SCSD! game where six people make six predictions for six weeks. Along with their picks, they're allowed and encouraged to submit a 'sound-off' on any topic, sports or otherwise. When it's all done, the winner earns great honor among the people, while the two losers are exiled in shame and the three middle finishers go to purgatory, with the chance rescue their good name up to three times. To learn more about the rules, and about the current contestants, read more:

Week One

Week Two
Week Three
Week Four
Week Five
Week Six

Let's take a look at the scores from Week Six:

1. Tom - 9 Points
1. Carrie - 3 Points
3. Shane - -5 Points
3. Jill - -5 Points
3. Spike - -5 Points
6. Nick - -5 Points

And now the final overall standings:

1. Tom - 30 Points
2. Carrie - 27 Points
3. Jill - 15 Points
4. Shane - 13 Points
5. Spike - 8 Points
6. Nick - 4 Points

As you can see, four of us risked much and lost much with last week's DESPERATION OPTION. Carrie wisely abstained, hoping her lead could survive a final reckless onslaught from all those below her. But Tom, lurking in second for much of the Pick Six, behaved like a biker who'd been drafting for an entire race until the last half mile, when he bursts ahead and takes the gold. By picking the Giants, Colts, and Steelers, he gave himself a chance to leapfrog his nemesis. It all came down to Sunday Night Football and a thrilling Colts-Redskins battle for all the marbles. Peyton and the visiting boys in blue pulled it out, 27-24, and Tom was champion. He also broke the unthinkable 30-point barrier. Amazing.

Before we get to his rant, I have an announcement to make: THERE WILL BE A TROPHY.

And one for scale:

That is not a giant doorknob. My hope and belief is that this will be sent around from winner to winner, going down in history as one of the world's most prominent pieces of hardware. Maybe famous people will be photographed holding it. Maybe it will take wild adventures around the world. Here's a brief history of the trophy:

1) On the plaque, it says "The Annual Cigar Store Indian Masters Pool." My cousin Justin (Tom's nephew) bought it as a trophy for the winner of a Masters pick 'em pool contested between the four of us. The first year, I won. It took Justin about 3 months to calculate the results, and even longer to send the trophy. I had to badger him forever. The second year, he didn't bother to figure out the results. The third year, there was no Masters pick 'em pool. It's safe to assume that "tradition" is dead.

2) The trophy was named after Joe Torre, who my cousin and others thought looked like a cigar store Indian sitting motionless and unsmiling on the Yankee bench.

3) Nick Swisher has held the trophy. A photograph commemorates the moment.

4) It doesn't have a name. I am so open to suggestions. In fact, a winning suggestion will get a prize, no joke. Part of the chief's headdress is missing. His war lance is slightly crooked (that's what the squaw said!)

And now it's going to Tom. Take good care of it, sir. And transport us now, if you would, with your words of triumph:



I don't's all so overwhelming right now! Isn't it interesting and profound that one incident can change our lives forever?

I have never experienced being speechless so I intend to forge ahead with this rant. Those who learn of their entrance into Coopertown's Hall of Fame receive a phone call from the prestigious committee immediately after the votes by sportswriters and Hall of Famers are counted. A tense moment in front of an international tv audience surprises the Academy Award winners. Tension filled rooms discover who is the Biggest Loser of the latest segment of the show by the same name. Mega bucks are awarded to the final cutthroat at Survivor's final evening. The world witnesses the final endless moment in penalty time at the championship match of the World Cup. I learned of my victory while in the bathroom this morning, without a cup of coffee in hand when a brief tex message arrived telling me to create this rant by sundown!

It's all so overwhelming right now! This is the age of the "what if" spookology. It all started with a movie I watched last weekend. Without going into it, the "what" and "if" questions forced the storyline to a tender end. I didn't wasn't overwhelming.

But what if....Carrie hadn't held the lead for so long in the Pick Six? Would I have worked as hard as I did to upset her destiny? What if.....Shane hadn't made the rules up as we went along so the final week hadn't included a new format by which I overtook Carrie, when it's intention was to keep Shane in the competition for another round? What if....... lovely Jill hadn't been so supportive of me and talked me up so that my self esteem, though waning, held me together for one more series of picks? What if..... Spike's original rant wasn't intended to destroy my golf dreams, let alone my Six Pick dreams? And What if...........Nick wasn't so incompetent in this contest from the very beginning, making even the worst of us feel better about ourselves?

So whether it be my fate (destiny in the wings) or me just being better than my fellow competitors (not intended for you, Jill), I am proud to have been the first to win the Seth Curry Saves Duke! original Pick Six competition. Thank you all (Shane is flashing a cue card to shut me off). I don't know...... it's all so overwhelming right now!

Well done, Tom. Well played. He's a deserving champion, a good Yankees fan, a good stepfather, and he's worked really hard to be a little less pervy the past few years, which is something the whole family appreciates.

Also, if anyone figures out what the hell the "age of what-if spookology" means, let me know.

There's nothing to do now but move ahead, my friends. Pick Six is over, but it must begin again. With that in mind, let's check out how things played out.

By the rules, Carrie, Jill, and myself are in purgatory while Spike and Nick are relegated. But I'm going to step back for the next round and let the readers and contributors take over. Which means:

Purgatory: Carrie, Jill, Spike (you are spared, sir)

Honorable Discharge: Me

Dishonorable Relegation and Eternal Shame: Nick.

And we've got some newcomers! The first three to ask for a slice of the Pick Six pie were Mike (Boston Lawyer), Nick E. (former Dukie, contributor), and the redoubtable team of Swetha & Sabreena (current Dukies, super fans). They've all agreed to write a little something to say hello. Take it away, lads.


Boston lawyer. I have no other recognizable personality traits.

"To tell you the truth, I am a bit roguish and I've a streak of cuteness in me, but it's all covered by the broad cloak of my simplicity, which is always natural and never put on."
-Sancho Panza

(Editor's Note: That first part is not true. Mike is also kind of a douchebag around waiters.)

(Just kidding.)

Nick E.

Hey everyone, my name is Nick. I graduated from Duke in 2009, so like many of my classmates I had a pretty shitty job for a while. The upside of that was I got to spend a lot of time surfing the blogosphere and arguing with strangers on the excellent DBR message boards. Then one day I sent a snarky email to Shane and he was gracious enough to post it; I've been lurking around here ever since. I live and work in DC, so don't be surprised if you hear a few Caps and Wizards shout-outs.

Swetha & Sabreena

So I read your email about the Pick Six in my semi-sleep state this morning as I was debating whether or not to skip my 11:30 class and all I could think was, what the hell, Shane gave us homework?


Whatup readers! I'm Swetha and have the privilege of introducing our team for this round of the Pick Six. So Sabreena and I are both seniors at Duke, which means we will be losing our student section privileges this May, but it's okay since we'll have our degrees? We're both big Duke basketball fans and obviously, fans of the blog. In terms of our sports knowledge, Sabreena will be supplying the majority of it, since my contribution will be limited to college basketball and identifying athletes with good bone structure.

I was going to wait until Tennessee came up in one of the picks to do this, but then I got really nervous that may not ever happen, so here is possibly my favorite YouTube video ever.

It's probably in poor form to be revealing our strategy to the competition so early, but this is why we will always have to pick against Tennessee, regardless of whether it's the smart choice or not.


And Jill had some words as well...


If you weren’t around to witness my scorching third-place victory in the inaugural Pick Six, I am back. Things you should know: I graduated from Duke in 2005; like Shane, I crossed over to the dark side and went to UNC for law school; I am a die-hard Yankees and Blue Devils fan; I am a human rights attorney in New York City; I can juggle; I miss the original 90210; and I am sort of maybe okay totally a tad competitive. Consider yourself forewarned.

I want to send out a big congrats to Tom, a native Long Islander like myself and an all-around great guy. He outsmarted everyone and deserved the championship, as he was the only person who correctly predicted the sixth pick of week six of Pick Six. A+, Tbone. I also give major props to Carrie, who made selections based upon uniform colors and was once “sad to root against that man with all the hair,” perhaps my favorite line from the original Pick Six; I would have loved for a female to win. Personally, I am very happy to be stuck in purgatory. I did not want my final Pick Six words to be "The Rapist returns and scores another conquest." So there we have it.

Welcome, newcomers. Bring it, bitches. And let’s go Yanks!


Carrie and Spike neglected to sound off. They are presumably hard at work, studying potential match-ups in order to conquer their personal demons and claw their way out of purgatory.

Yankees at 8pm. This is it. Now or never. This is where the good guys fight for one more shot at that scoundrel son of a bitch Cliff Lee. Just one more. That's all we ask. We'll send that corrupted son of Arkansas right to the fucking moon.

There will be a special weekend post tomorrow morning, believe. Duke is already #1. Happy Friday.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Grim LeRogue

(This is today's second post. In the tradition of blogs, the day's first post can be found directly below it.)

Remember Game 3, when everything to held up because someone ran on the field? Well, my friends, that was no ordinary fence hopper. That was:


When you think of a fan running onto a baseball field, you think of a drunk kid having a good time who made a poor decision. But LeRogue was not your run-of-the-mill frat kid displaying his courage and idiocy. As Fanhouse and others report, he was out for blood. Let's check out the article.

A fan who ran onto the field during Game 3 of the American League Championship Series was trying to confront Alex Rodriguez, according to multiple reports Tuesday night.

In the history of understated adjectives, "confront" wins the fucking Palme d'Or. Read on.

Grim LeRogue, a 33-year-old man from the Bronx, was charged with assault and interfering with a sporting event. The New York Daily News reported that LeRogue is undergoing a psychiatric evaluation at Bellevue Hospital following the incident.

Hmm, a psychiatric evaluation for running onto a field? It's a dumb thing to do, no doubt, but isn't that a bit much?

According to reports, LeRogue told police that he jumped onto the field with the intention to harm A-Rod because of Rodriguez's rumored romance with actress Cameron Diaz over the summer.

Oh okay, yeah.

The Daily News reported that police found a picture of Rodriguez tucked into LeRogue's pocket. Sources told the Daily News that A-Rod's face was crossed out on the picture and there was a drawing of a small gun pointed at his head along the words, "You gotta go, buddy."

LeRogue later told investigators that he was waiting for the Yankee third baseman to get a clutch hit so he could attack him in front of all the cameras, but that after six playoff games and multiple opportunities he felt it would be foolish to wait any longer.

The Daily News reported that LeRogue also told investigators he wanted to kill Bobby Brown because Osama Bin Laden has a crush on Brown's wife, Whitney Houston.

Come on, give the kid a break. We've all been there. We've all been young and starry-eyed. Then you grow up, start paying taxes, have kids, and suddenly you get a little less idealistic and realize that you can't kill every husband of every American pop star that Muslim terrorists have a crush on in your fucking insane imagination.

LeRogue, whose real name is John Rogan, reportedly changed his name as a strategy to sell a book he's trying to market.

Oddly enough, the book is "Tuesdays With Morrie" by Mitch Albom.

On his Facebook profile, LeRogue lists his job title as "future bestselling celebrity author and menace to evil" and his employer as God.

Do you think God's health insurance policy covers "Acts of Me"? (stifling a giggle, turning around and looking for someone to high five, realizing I'm alone, sighing deeply, wishing I had some ice cream sandwiches or something)

He claims to have attended graduate school at the "University of Thrown Out of Home" with studies in "alcohol" and "wandering evolution."

He also claims to have attended graduate school at the "University of Exposing Myself to Old Women Coming Home from Sunday Church in the Bronx" and received his Master's Degree in "deciding which bricks in certain buildings look like they might be Mel Gibson's mother" with a minor in "engineering."

A couple bonus bits from the Daily News story:

"He gave a rambling interview that he had an infatuation with Cameron Diaz," the source said. "He thought by going out and choking A-Rod he'd be a hero to her."

No joke: isn't it fucked up how many weirdos believe this kind of thing? Remember when Reagan was shot? Me either, but the guy who did it, John Hinckley Jr., was trying to gain national prominence so he could land Jodi Foster. Reagan, and all his policies, were a complete afterthought.

Joke: Ironically, LeRogue's attack was completely unnecessary, since A-Rod can choke all on his own.

"I think it's publicity for his book," said his mother, Catherine Rogan. "I'm sure he's fine," she said of his condition.

"Boys will be boys," she added. "Whenever he acted up as a kid, I'd just tie him up with nylon rope, keep him in a dark closet with a single light bulb swaying overhead, and threaten to put an iguana in there with him."

"He was absolutely out of his f-----g mind," said a source from the police department, adding that LeRogue was rambling the entire time he was in custody.

The source later apologized, saying he'd confused LeRogue with FOX announcer Tim McCarver, who he'd heard earlier during the Giants-Phillies broadcast. He described LeRogue as "pretty cool, actually, but a little weird about the whole Cameron Diaz thing."

Strange, strange stuff. You have to wonder how many drips of crazy LeRogue was from having a gun or knife or something. Also, they didn't show it on tv, but if went right from the stands to A-Rod, the cops did a pretty awesome job of subduing him fast. Well done, New York's finest. And well done A-Rod, for not dying. Well done all around.

But something tells me we haven't heard the last of Grim LeRogue.