Thursday, August 31, 2006

How To Properly Bitch About Your Fantasy Team

I have never won a fantasy league. Ever. But, like Bill Simmons at the World Series of Poker, I possess the breathtaking arrogance to believe that I am a player of impeccable skill who has been done in by the sheer luck of my retarded opponents. If you were the lucky douche who drafted Larry Johnson, Steve Smith, and Carson Palmer last year, you probably won your league. Pfft. What do you know about football? Dick. One of these days, I'm gonna win a league. And then I'll be proven smart!

If that doesn't happen though, I am fully prepared to bitch about the two fantasy teams I drafted. And here they are. I'd list the scoring and positions. But really, what the fuck do you care?

Team 1 (Deadspin league) - Babette's Meast

Round 1-Pick 5: Tiki Barber - No one makes fun of Tiki's first name. Why? He was clearly conceived during a Brady Bunch episode, and I don't think he should be ashamed of that.

2-28: Anquan Boldin - Nothing like having a Cardinal on your team. It's always fun to watch Kurt Warner drop back, wait 30 seconds, and then fumble, and then get concussed.

3-37: Reggie Wayne - I'd like to again bitch about the fact that Tia Carerre's band in "Wayne's World" was fucking terrible. Everyone in that movie creams their jeans over her while she's up there butchering "Fire". Open your ears, Lowe!

4-60: Frank Gore - Nothing like drafting a player on an offense that averages -7 points per game.

5-69: Jospeh Addai - Son of Meat Loaf Addai.

6-92: Drew Brees - If I draft him and Chad Pennington, that's like a full set of shoulders!

7-101: DeAngelo Williams - Really let himself go after that "Voodoo" album.

8-124: Kellen Winslow - Go for the bomb, soldier!

9-133: Mark Brunell - Bumped up my board for overall rugged handsomeness

10-156: Troy Williamson - My token Viking. And he hasn't fucked anyone in a stairwell yet!

11-165: New England - Don't care.

12-188: Reche Caldwell - Really don't care.

13-197: Jeff Reed - Does this draft ever fucking end?

14-220: Joe Klopfenstein - Pro Football Weekly thought he had real potential. I dropped him for Travis Henry.

Team 2 (Valhalla Viking league) - Hot Carl Lee

Round 1-Pick 4: Tiki Barber - Hey, didn't I just draft you? Or was that one of your Asian sister co-wives?

2-21: Chad Johnson - Fresh off his appearance as the villain in "Demolition Man 2".

3-28: Terrell Owens - No better player to have on your fantasy team. If he so much as loses a contact, I'll know about it. Thanks, overreactive media!

4-45: Kevin Jones - Shitty team? Coordinator who hates to run? That's my kinda back!

5-52: Frank Gore - Nice to see you again. Now I can hate you doubly!

6-69: Jake Delhomme - Excellent pick, because this is the year Steve Smith will rebreak his leg.

7-76: Tatum Bell - Looking good after divorcing John McEnroe.

8-93: Heath Miller - A pick I'm legitimately excited about. And those always turn out swimmingly.

9-100: Braylon Edwards - Still not injured!

10-117: Michael Vick - Combined with Owens, I now possess two of the most annoying players in football. I bet Vick would study his playbook more if Virginia Tech actually taught their students to read.

11-124: Cedric Benson - His teammates hate his guts, so perhaps he'll be as good as Ricky Watters.

12-141: Kellen Winslow - He brings both my teams a toughness that only comes from the means streets of La Jolla.

13-165: Michael Jenkins - As a show of my faith in Vick, I dropped him for Wali Lundy.

14-172: Atlanta - Drafted on autodraft. I was eating chicken.

15-189: Kansas City - Also drafted during chicken. Dropped for Olindo Mare. Arriba arriba arriba!!!!!!!!

Those are the teams. By Week 3, we will speak no more of them.

Time to Feel Better About Yourself, Unless You're a Browns Fan

I... I just... Nothing. I got nothing.

You think you have the world figured out: Packers fans are the most frighteningly passionate, Redskins fans have the smallest amount of self-awareness, Bengals fans are the most hopeless, Steelers fans are the dumbest... Then a single Browns fan by the name of Denny Blaze -- I'm assuming that's his stage name -- goes and does something like this, and everything you thought you knew turns out to be wrong.

I try not to be too preachy, but when you make Kevin Federline look like a hip, well-spoken, legitimate musician, it's probably time to kill yourself.

(Thanks, and blame, goes to Norv's Feb for the tip.)

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

The Pre-Game Playlist Part II: The Flip Side

As our regular readers will remember, Big Daddy Drew used this space last week to profile his picks for the best pre-game locker room music. His list was a reflection of his personal experience and his musical background, while lots of our readers loved the list there was also a fair amount of dissension. In response I decided to compile a mix of songs from a genre more befitting my tastes. Keep in mind, this is the mix that I'd have on my Ipod if I were an NFL Player. I'm not saying these are the best songs of all time, instead this is the music that fuels my inspiration.

So take a look at my list and feel free to chime in with your reactions and a list of your own (if you feel so inclined).
Note: This is not a ranking of the top ten, instead it is the order I would want the songs to appear on my playlist.

Ante Up remix
MOP ft. Busta Rhymes

If this song doesn't get you jacked up you probably aren't breathing. The beat lends itself perfectly to Busta's hard hitting style. This an absolute must for any pregame session.

2. Bia Bia Lil' Jon and the Eastside Boys ft. Ludacris

Granted I'm not the biggest fan of southern rap, but it's songs like these that make all the other crap worthwhile. Songs like these are what makes people want to hit other people; for our purposes, that's a good thing. A few minutes of this song could turn Andy Katzenmoyer into Ray Lewis...for a few seconds at least.

3. Hit 'em Up Tupac

This Tupac gem is perfect for any true renegade linebacker (I'm looking at you LaVar). It's all about one man taking on a line of enemies without the slightest hint of backing down. As much as I love my East Coast, I've gotta say that this is the best of all the feud songs.

4. Boom
Royce da 5'9"

An absolute classic from an artist you may not expect to see in this sort of company. The beat alone will lift you up and carry you out to warmups. Every undersized defensive back in the league might as well set their ipod on reapeat when this pops up. I actually find it difficult to watch an Ed Reed highlight reel without Royce running through my head.
5. Deadly Combination Big L ft. Tupac

Just an absolutely epic track for so many different reasons. The combination of the powerful beat and sublime lyrics are perfect for a tandem like Carson Palmer and Chad Johnson. While the two may come from entirely different places and got to the top in entirely different fashion they are able to function like brothers from another mother. Anybody who's seen the episode of ESPN's Teamates with Carson and Chad know exactly what I'm talking about. The same is definately true for Tupac and Big L, hopefully Carson and Chad's combination will only be deadly for the opponents.

6. M-E-T-H-O-D Man Wu Tang Clan

The intro to this gem should make you a little sickened at first, and that's an ideal way to prepare for a violent competition. This is the kind of song I imagine Alvin Mack listened to before every ESU game.

7. Who Run It 3 6 Mafia

All the badass running backs in the league have got to be blasting this song. They're the ones with the targets on their backs and if they have their way, that's all the defense is going to see. The fast paced beat should get you all riled up, if not, Crunchy Black will shove his Oscar up your ass.
8. What's My Name DMX

With all do respect to Dylan, DMX is the only rapper out there that spits hot fire. He could read the Magna Carta aloud and get people to scream the words along with him. There's no better example of his tenacious style than this anthem. Any player suffering from low self-esteem (Aaron Brooks) needs a song like this. It's the football player's equivalent of a daily affirmation.

9. Forgot About Dre Dr. Dre ft. Eminem

I'm sending out this song over the airwaves with a dedication to al the Brett Favres of the world. Sure everybody on the periphery thinks he's totally washed up and out of the game, but now he's got a chance to come back and blow everybody's shit out of the water. Of course I donst expect Favress 2006 campaign to see the success of Chronic 2001, it's not entirely impossible (just ask all of those douchey NFL pundits).

10. Kick In the Door Notorious BIG

There's no list without Biggie, it's that simple. This one's about nothing more than utter domination of the game. Plus, any reference to Howard Homecoming results in bonus points as far as I'm concerned.

Bonus Post Game Cool Down

11. Seventh Floor Crew The U

Hell, half the league went to the U. It just wouldn't be right to leave off such a classic. The chorus really speaks for itself...

If your ho only know
That she was gettin’ fucked on the 7th flo’
If that bitch only knew
That she was gettin’ muddied by the whole damn crew.

Better Know A Team: New York Giants

Five Fast Facts About The Giants:
-Newly acquired linebacker Lavar Arrington took nine days to find Giants headquarters because of his steadfast refusal to MapQuest directions.
-Quarterback Eli Manning's father still cuts his food for him.
-Right guard Chris Snee is the father of coach Tom Coughlin's grandson. Coughlin gave his daughter seven months to gestate the child to full term.
-Backup quarterback Tim Hasselbeck is married to one of those retarded slutbags on "The View".
-Fourth-string quarterback Jared Lorenzen washes himself with a rag on a stick.

Ten Yards Of Awkwardness With: Amani Toomer

As part of our 2006 preview, I'll be sitting down and "chatting" with a player from each team. For the Giants, it's starting wideout and constant "Kindergarten Cop" joke victim Amani Toomer.

Big Daddy Drew: Amani, thank for sitting down and talking with us.
Amani Toomer: My pleasure.

Drew: Tiki Barber and his twin brother both married exotic Asian women. Since the Barbers look alike, and since all Asian people look alike, don't you think there's some kind of fucked-up, polyamorous, four-way shit going on there?
Toomer: No.

Drew: How can you tell if Eli Manning is throwing a ball intended for you? That has to be hard to figure out.
Toomer: Eli's very accurate.

Drew: What's it like to hang out with Eli? I imagine it's a lot like playing solitaire.
Toomer: Eli's a cool guy.

Drew: Jeremy Shockey was raised in Oklahoma and went to school at Miami. What's it like to play with someone who is two distinct kinds of retarded?
Toomer: Jeremy is a smart guy.

Drew: Does Michael Strahan keep a camcorder in the locker room? Because I wouldn't shower until he left.
Toomer: No.

Drew: The Giants drafted wideout Sinorice Moss earlier this year. Does the name Sinorice make you want a Twizzler for some reason?
Toomer: No.

Drew: You went to Michigan the same time I was there. How come we never partied, man? I had a fucking Genesis.
Toomer: I didn't know you.

Drew: Save it. What lessons have you tried to teach Plaxico Burress about playing the position, and how long before you gave up in frustration?
Toomer: Plaxico is a hard worker.

Drew: If Eli Manning, his brother, Tiger Woods, and Alex Rodriguez were all in the same room, who would die of boredom first?
Toomer: I don't know.

Drew: The Giants defensive tackles are Fred Robbins and William Joseph. I loved them in Disorderlies. Didn't you?
Toomer: I don't know what you're talking about.

Drew: Would you consider kissing me?
Toomer: No.

Drew: Would you consider replacing Joe Theismann?
Toomer: No.

Drew: Would you consider eating this chicken satay? It's terrific.
Toomer: No.

Drew: Amani, thank you so much for hanging with us.
Toomer: You're welcome.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

An Open Letter To Tony Kornheiser

Dear Tony:

You see this guy right here? This is Joe Theismann, your large-prostated broadcasting partner and shining example of why professional football players need thicker helmets. I need to urgently tell you something, and that is that this guy is trying to fuck you over. Now, I'm sure you already know this. It's not as if Joe Theismann has spent his whole life outwitting people. No, his intentions are fairly out in the open. He's like the retarded Iago to your whiter, Jewisher Othello.

Like last Friday night. I had the pleasure of watching the Steelers-Eagles preseason tilt. On one play, Eagles running back Correll Buckhalter busted out a nice run of eight yards or so. This is what you said after the run (paraphrased):

Of course he ran for eight yards. Nobody's seen game film on this guy for 32 years!

Funny joke. And fairly lighthearted, too. But what does Theismann do after you drop that line? Well, he gets all huffy and sniffs:

Well, I'm happy for Correll Buckhalter.

Jesus fucking Christ. Tony, do me a favor. When Theismann says something like this, I want you to reach over and, very discreetly, slap the athlete's dick of Theismann's mouth. Seriously, you can't make one joke about Correll Buckhalter's injury history? It wasn't even that harsh. I've got a million harsher ones in my back pocket. Like these:

-Hey, it nice to see a running back from Nebraska who doesn't like to strangle his girlfriend with a telephone cord.
-I'm just amazed his leg didn't fall off on that play.
-It's amazing to think there's a running back out there more injury-prone than Brian Westbrook, but that's the Eagles skill position players for you.
-If it's Correll Buckhalter, it's gotta be the preseason!
-He went to Nebraska, right? You think he can spell his own last name?

But you can't slip one gentle ribbing in there without Theismann defending a player's honor? This is ridiculous. These are million-dollar athletes and some of the toughest guys around, and they can't take a mild swipe from a fucking broadcaster? I guarantee you these guys take more shit in the locker room every day. And I bet their high school and college hazing experiences included regular games of Cream The Cracker and ritualistic broomstick rape. I'm pretty sure they can handle whatever you have to dish out. But noooo, Theismann can't let Big Bad Tony actually have a little fun at a player's expense.

Are we allowed any non-forced levity at all in football? Then what are the fucking broadcasters there for? Your target audience isn't the players. It's me. And I demand more jokes about gimpy-kneed athletes and subtle Rusty Trombone references. Shit, get drunk during the game if you want. I know I do.

Theismann is hosing you, Tony. I counted multiple times where you dropped jokes and Theismann met them with complete silence. That's bullshit. Al Michaels laughed at all of Dennis Miller's jokes, and Miller wasn't even suited to his job. He was a gifted writing comedian with subpar ad-libbing skills, who tried to shoehorn jokes he wrote days earlier into the broadcast. Your experience in radio gives you a leg up in making smart comments off the cuff. But if you have no one to play off of, those comments go to waste. Or worse, you'll get discouraged from making them.

You need support, and this dickface isn't giving it to you. He's a fucking jock-sniffer. He's like the white Stephen A. Smith, only dumber and with a bigger afro. Mr. Wong say fuck him in the pants. It's not too late to fix this. I'm pretty sure you make more money than Theismann. ESPN courted you for the job, while Theismann probably accepted taking his salary in Brach's Caramels to stay on the air. Go to your bosses and tell them that this guy isn't willing to work with you. Have them bring in John Riggins, who actually doesn't take himself seriously.

And have them bring in Marv Albert to replace the bland and vaguely Asian-looking Mike Tirico while they're at it. He's only the greatest play-by-play announcer in the history of everything ever. And no network will give the guy a job? That's fucking crap. So what if he likes taking a chunk out of the ladies, Max Cady-style? Marv rocks. You, Marv, and Riggo. Would that be an improvement? Fuck and yes.

Get it done, Tony. Millions of my brain cells are counting on you.


UPDATE: I forgot to mention that there is an entire euphemistic lexicon used by guys like Theismann to protect players from emotional distress. Joey Harrington "struggled" with the Lions. EJ Henderson has "trouble grasping" the Vikings defense. These players suck. And it kills me that broadcasters don't even tell us the basic truth about shit like this. George Carlin would have a fucking field day with this. Oh, and Christmas Ape would like to note that he strongly dislikes Riggins. Your suggestions welcome in the comments.

Louisiana, Louisiana, they're trying to wash us away.

The latest in KSK's continuing series, "Better Know a Football Team." Today, the New Orleans Saints.

In the not too distant past, this was a luckless and thoroughly loathsome franchise. A haven for thieves, drug addicts and treacherous cuckolders. However, in the wake of a 2005 season that saw the Saints play 16 road games, we began felt a little sorry for the Saints. Now that the Saints are back at home with a new coach, a new QB and Reggie Freaking Bush. We we can't help but get on the bandwagon early enough to get a good seat near the keg.

Four things you might not know:

1. Last season when the Saints were 2-8, Joe Theismann endorsed Jim Haslett for coach of the year. Obviously, the highest concentration of brain cells in Joe's body is located in the metal holding together his right leg. Incredibly, the Saints did not heed Joe's words of wisdom, instead hiring Sean Payton away from Dallas.

2. “The Big Easy” is the nickname for the entire city of New Orleans, not just Willie Roaf's wife.

3. Archie Manning never played for a winning team during his NFL career (including 10 seasons in New Orleans). Has anyone legacy ever improved over time more than Archie Manning? Archie was a chuck-and-duck stiff in the NFL. But sometime during the ascension of Peyton and Eli, broadcasters began referring to Archie with hushed tones of reverence. I am not convinced that the Hermanos Manning don't get their talent from their mother.

4. In 2001, Drew Brees led Purdue to their first Rose Bowl in over 30 years. We don't know how Brees wil look after shoulder surgery; but anything less than amputation will be a step up from Aaron Brooks.

The Texans taking Mario Williams over Reggie Bush will be rightfully mocked for years to come-- possibly assuming Blazers-taking-Sam-Bowie-over-Jordan proportions. Bush is a bona fide stud. On the fantasy tip, two things may possibly prevent Bush from being an immediate roto pimp. The first is Deuce McAlister, (if he can come back from ACL surgery). The second is the Saints O-line—the only thing in the Crescent City that blows more than Wynton Marsalis.

Make no mistake: Saints owner Tom Benson is a major league douche. Benson quit going to Saints "home" games in Baton Rouge last season, claiming he feared for his family's safety and thowing Tiger Stadium and LSU under the bus. However, Benson was clearly the aggressor in the only documented incidents in which he was involved. Benson apparently couldn't stand getting a little dose of reality from the rabble who didn't appreciate Benson's meretricious relationship with San Antonio officials.

Benson would later claim his talks of relocation were merely a prudent business move in case New Orleans could no longer host an NFL team. Apparently Benson thinks that the market for an NFL network is roughly the same as for those '87 Yugos he used to hawk. If things don't work out in New Orleans, we're sure Mr. Benson will have his choice of suitors. Fortunately Daddy Tags put a stop to further torment for Saints fans (at least for now).

New Orleans, you've been through hell, and no one knows if your Saints will be around for the long term. However, until they split for LA or (shudder) San Antonio, you have an interesting team to watch while you are still up to your asses in mud and rubble. Laissez les bon temps rouler, motherfuckers.

Monday, August 28, 2006

What More Can I Say?


The Oakland Raiders have just signed Jeffrey Scott George to an NFL contract. I don't have anything funny to add to this news, it would be like performing unnecessary plastic surgery on Jessica Alba. That's all for now, I have to get back to bashing my head against a wall.

Update: In case you don't believe me (hell, i wouldn't believe me) here's the story from a reputable news source....then a again those guys did hire Skip Bayless...

Better Know A Team: The Dirty Birds of The ATL

The Falcons are one of the NFL's elite shitty teams. Last year they played in a division that featured Chris Simms AND Aaron Brooks, and only finished 8-8. We're told that's near .500, which isn't too hot. Even the cast of Gilmore Girls came out and said, "Yeah, those guys are nothing special."

But the team does return some award-winners from that 2005 campaign. Unfortunately, these are awards that weren't issued by the NFL. They're not even from last night's Emmys. They were actually awards that I just made up. Because that is very original (hey, at least Drew hasn't done it yet).

Anyway, the categories are...

Outstanding Commercial Featuring A Vintage Cover Of Cat Fancy - Warrick Dunn, Running Back. Dunn, at 5-foot-8, has little versatility, unless you count the two seasons he's played Dr. Foreman on House. Nevertheless, the former Seminole is entering his 10th NFL season, and is expected to reach the 672-yard rushing plateau for the fourth straight year.

Best Performance From A Quarterback Denying A Sexually Transmitted Disease - Ron Mexico, Quarterback. On or off the field, with Michael "Mike" Vick, you just don't know. In addition to not reading defenses, Ron is an avid hang glider, and is certified in Microsoft Access. He also has a younger brother, New, who is a tremendous fuckhead. Arguably the game's most exciting player, the elder Vick's production and development have been stagnant in the past few years. One can hope that his Hepatitus C has followed suit.

Best Name for An End Zone Celebration Doubling As a Euphemism For A Perverse Sexual Maneuver - The Dirty Bird. The Dirty Bird was all the rage during the Falcons' run to Super Bowl OBGYN, back when Dan Reeves was the coach and Chris Chandler was still getting laid. It has been scarce of late, much to the chagrin of only the Jumbotron operator and That Fat Woman Who Only Went To Falcons Games To Express Herself Through The Art Of Phony Dance. But the Bird still flies today, thanks to an alternative interpretation of its name. Sit down here for a second. You see kids, when a man and woman love each other, and the woman wants to get a bit of her freak on, the man will invite over a couple of his friends, and she'll...well, you can look up the rest. Unfortunately, this is one of the few maneuvers where the woman actually has to be conscious.

But anyway, this post-scoring celebration is not nearly the best double-entendre celebration in sports. The Dirty Bird pales in comparison to the "Ick(e)y Shuffle (Cincinnati Bengals)," the "Runnin' A Train (On A Bitch...or Slender Freshman In The Vicinity) (Purdue Football)," the Saskatchewan Hockey Bukkake (from the sport's governing body of the same name), and "The Two-Man Advantage (Duke Lacrosse)." When you think about it, the Dirty Bird is just the chicken dance, with less choreograpy and a sprinkle of autism.

Best First Name Resembling Nomenclature of Underwater Vegetation - Alge Crumpler, Tight End. Alge was the team's leading receiver last year, with less than 1,000 yards. His full name is "Algernon," you know, like in "Flowers for Algernon," but he doesn't like to admit to it. See, the mouse from the story is white, and Alge blames that mouse for keeping his shit down, and plans to find that motherfuckin' cracker and go all mousetrap on his ass. Bitch better have his money, Mr. Crumpler adds.

Most Disappointing Post-Game Interview, When Considering Family Lineage - Jim Mora, Jr., Head Coach. The Junior Mora has been around for a while, won a few games, and scored a couple invites to Tagliabue's crack-and-whore parties. Still, the young coach has not remotely approached the "Diddely-Poo" eschelon of quotation. Then he had to go and improve his defense through free agency in the offseason. We could be waiting a long time for any replay-worthy sound bites from this "coach."

Potential For Comedy Or Other Shennanigans In 2006 - Below Average This team has no real flamboyant characters, no real straws to stir the drink. The best we can hope for here is another .500 season with some embarrasing losses to underacheiving division foes. Or maybe someone will try to get the attention of FS Ronnie Heard, and he'll turn around and say, "What?"

Yeah. It's that bad.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Preseason Week 3 But Were Afraid to Ask

We're back once again to remind you of all the relevant preseason action you would have remembered if you weren't so drunk this weekend.

You will likely notice that I'm not providing the actual results of the following games. Anybody who wants to know the scores can get them here...then contact these people.

Miami at (North) Carolina: Thursday's game marked Daunte's Culpepper's return to the House of Pain. To show how far he's come, the new Dolphin's quarterback actually thanked Chris Gamble for the season ending tackle. Clearly nobody has ever wanted to get out of Minnesota more than Daunte. The one real highlight for Carolina came when rookie DeAngelo Williams returned a kick 98 yards to glory. DeShaun Foster's ankle began crumpling in anticipation (DeJamal Robertson was not heard from). Once again Miami's new offense both looked sharp throughout the first half. Hell, even Joey Harrington led a long touchdown drive on the Carolina's first team...ladies and gentlemen, you're NFC favorites.

New York at New York in New Jersey: Eli's play didn't even match Ole Miss standards in this crapfest, but he's still got first name recognition...which is nice. Chad Pennington failed to lead the Jets on a scoring drive for the second consecutive appearance, then he tore his rotator cuff...just kidding, that's next week.

Crackimore at Minnesota: After intercepting Oxygen Tank McNair, Fred Smoot struck a pose all the way to the endzone, no strippers were harmed. Chester Taylor struggled again with his former teammates stacking the line. Pundits everywhere finally admitted he's not a very good football player.

Arizona at Chicago: Matt Leinart threw for 144 yards while completing 71% of his passes; Will was rumored to be sporting half a pack of rolaids in his pants. Rex Grossman (not a jew) played so well that the fans began ejaculating when Lovie applied the hook in favor of Brian "Better than the Alternative" Griese. Kyle Orton downed a sixer of High Life and took a nap in the trainer's room.

William Penn West at William Penn East:
David Akers put on a place kicking clinic, it was exactly as exciting as it sounds. In order to remain impartial, Governor Ed Rendell devoured a Pat's cheesesteak and a small order of fries from the O.

Detroit at Oakland: The Raiders are 4-0 in the preseason. Matt Millen just offered his next four first round picks for the right to negotiate a 25 year contract with Art Shell.

Cleveland @ Buffalo:
J.P. Lossman performed well enough to beat out Kelly Holcomb; Tim Couch remained perplexed. Browns fans seem to think "Frye to Edwards" has a nice ring to it, the same could not be said about "Cleveland Browns".

Indianapolis at New O
rleans in Mississippi for some reason: Peyton tore up his Daddy's old stomping ground while Reggie Bush fumbled away his early R.O.Y. stranglehold; Deuce McAllister showed 'em how it's done in the Mississip.

Washington at New England:
Why don't we just move along...

San Francisco at Dallas: While Bledsoe and Glenn were busy hooking up TO knit himself a pair of mittens. Alex Smith managed to overcome his carny hands to connect with his new best friend Vernon Davis. After the game Mike Nolan rubbed one out all over Eva Braun's portrait.

Atlanta at Tennessee: Somebody named Jerious Norwood carved through the Titanic defense like an iceberg...if icebergs still existed. Vince Young's tumultuous performance made Billy Volek look like Billy Kilmer. Jeff Fisher made himself look like an idiot by calling a crappy fake punt...the mustache didn't help matters.

Tampa Bay at Jacksonville: The Bucs first teamers were stout on both sides of the ball, even if Chris Simms is a little fairy boy and Mike Alstott eats shit for breakfast. Leftwich managed to rally his side once Tampa's practice squad took over. Rashean Mathis thoroughly embarrassed himself with consecutive penalties totaling 62 yards; in his defense, you try covering a coked up and roided out David Boston.

St. Louis at Kansas City: 3 words: Five Field Goals.

Seattle at San Diego: Philip Rivers fumbled three times...but at least he's not Ryan Leaf. Despite the ineptitude under center the Chargers runners found the endzone with ease. While the Seahawks may have lost another tight end the Chargers were forced to play a lineman named Cory Lekkerkerker; Marty Schottentententenheimer had no comment.

Thirteen more days...

Friday, August 25, 2006

"You're A Very Pretty Girl, Alabama. But You Aren't Gonna Be Very Pretty For Very Long."

The college football season is nearly upon us! We at KSK don't handle college football. That's for our brilliant friends over at Every Day Should Be Saturday, the original purveyors of the Carl Monday video. But make no mistake: we're fans, too. As a Bill Simmons reader, I'm constantly baffled by the fact the Simmons could give two shits about college football. It's Saturday and there's football on. Why on God's green Earth wouldn't you watch it? Is catching up on your Tivo queue of Laguna Hills episodes really worth it? Then again, Simmons baffles me in many ways. He quotes Adam Carolla, but never quotes Ali G. But perhaps there's some unintentional comedy to that.

Anyway, in honor of college football, here's Ali G alter ego Bruno bringing out the very best in football fans and players from that bastion of tolerance also known as the University of Alabama. Note current Bills running back Shaud Williams' staunch defense of his own sexuality. He likes vaginas, people! Rich, measty vaginas!

Oh, and here's a bunch of Alabama cheerleaders stacked on top of one another. There's a groan-worthy crimson tide joke in there somewhere. Literally.

Enjoy the weekend.

What The Hell Happened The Other Night?

Monday Morning Punter will act like he knows shit about FF throughout the year.

Without fail, I have at least one moment during every FF draft that I feel like a blind nun trying to masturbate with an upside-down barstool. And when your league has 16 teams, those moments are even more likely to, uh, come. And they come quickly.

In this column, we'll walk through Monday's FFLXDSP draft, as I saw it, and try and figure out what kind of team I have, as if anyone has any sort of clue before the season starts.

Our Roster Regulations and Scoring Rules:

Scoring Type: Head-to-Head
Start Scoring on: Week 1
Can't Cut List Provider: None
Max Moves: No maximum
Max Trades: No maximum
Trade Reject Time: 1
Trade End Date: November 17, 2006
Trade Review: League Votes
Waiver Time: 1 day
Post Draft Players: Free Agents
Playoffs: Week 16 and 17 (4 teams)
Roster Positions: QB, WR, RB, TE, W/R, W/R, K, DEF, BN, BN, BN, BN, BN, BN

Stat Categories: Passing Yards (50 yards per point)
Passing Touchdowns (6)
Interceptions (-3)
Rushing Yards (20 yards per point)
Rushing Touchdowns (6)
Reception Yards (20 yards per point)
Reception Touchdowns (6)
Return Touchdowns (6)
2-Point Conversions (2)
Fumbles Lost (-2)
Offensive Fumble Return TD (6)

Field Goals 0-19 Yards (3)
Field Goals 20-29 Yards (3)
Field Goals 30-39 Yards (3)
Field Goals 40-49 Yards (4)
Field Goals 50+ Yards (5)

Point After Attempt Made (1)
Sack (1)
Interception (2)
Fumble Recovery (2)
Touchdown (6)
Safety (2)
Block Kick (2)
Points Allowed 0 points (10)
Points Allowed 1-6 points (7)
Points Allowed 7-13 points (4)
Points Allowed 14-20 points (1)
Points Allowed 21-27 points (0)
Points Allowed 28-34 points (-1)
Points Allowed 35+ points (-4)

Fractional Points: No
Negative Points: Yes

The First Thirty-Two Picks Are The Hardest

I'm picking 15th. I don't expect to see any marquee players left on the board when I pick. But I'm also picking 18th on the way back through the order for Round 2, so I should be able to pick up 2 decent players (I'm hoping for RB-RB) and then wait 45 minutes until my next pick. I am already flipping out before the draft starts, as people can't get into the chatroom I arranged for the draft, but also, I cannot get the Draft Room chat copied or pasted to anyone else. Motherfucker, motherfucker.

Iracane picks first and takes LT, which surprised me, and a few others, and he takes some shit for it from the other owners, including me. Personally, I don't expect LT to perform up to his standard with a new quarterback, In my 6 FF drafts up to that point, this was the first that LT went first. Hey, that's the beauty of picking at No. 1, you get whoever you want.

Rusty picks Larry Johnson at No. 2, and Mr. Poon gets my favorite of this elite trio, Shaun Alexander, in the 3-hole.

Will Leitch is picking at No. 4 and Big Daddy Drew is in the 5-hole. Before the draft, Drew emailed me and asked for my input regarding his first round pick, assuming Tiki Barber was off the board. I really thought 4-11 were interchangable picks, but agreed that Tiki would not fall to him:

As for your # 5 pick, I really like Ronnie Brown this year. He had 900 yards last year, while he was splitting time. I would even put him in front of Edge; I'm just not buying the Cards this year. If you think Portis will get PT in week 1 (I do, at least some,) he would not be a bad choice, either. Hope that helps

But Will shocks most of the room and takes Ronnie Brown, leaving Drew to jump on Tiki like a dog in heat, while simultaneously taunting Will for the Brown pick (which I still like, but am in greater awe of Drew's multi-tasking). Jefferson DArcy takes Rudi at No. 6, no real surprise, and Good vs Evil selects Stephen Jackson at No. 7.

Unsilent Majority, our resident Redskins fan/apologist, can't believe his luck as Clinton Portis has fallen to him. UM takes Portis, who should be ready to play by Week 1. The rest of our round looks like such:

9. The Gentleman Masher
10. Tom
11. BigTDog
12. The Dude
13. GoinYostal
14. Suss
15. Monday Morning Punter
16. Footsteps Falco, who is auto-picking his team.

I expect the remaining second-tier RBs to be gone before I pick, along with most of the first-tier WRs and maybe even Peyton Manning. I am considering wavering from my RB-RB strategy and just grabbing whoever might be left. This is like picking 10th in a 12-team league, without a first round pick. I am going to go 0-15 in my own fucking league and look like a shit-eating asshole.

Cue the barstool.


The Gentleman Masher, perhaps fumbling for a barstool of his own (or acting on sheer cunning accquired from his Stump The Schwab appearance), takes Peyton at No. 9. Suddenly I think I might get a Top-10 RB after all.Tom takes Steve Smith at No. 10, and now I'm almost sure that I will.

But then Lamont Jordan and Edge leave the board next, and Yostal picks up a Cadillac in the lucky 13-hole. Now I feel like shit again, as I know Suss will scoop up McGahee and leave me sitting in a steaming pile of Torry Holt. Motherfucker, I shoulda rigged this damn draft when I had...

...but then Suss takes Marvin Harrison at 14.

I stop.

Deep breath.


Find McGahee.

Click his name.

Click DRAFT.

I have my running back.

The first round was little odd, and with HAL 5000 making two picks for Falco on the corner, I don't know what to expect to see on the board when I return with the 18th pick. I am considering another RB on the way back, and when HAL picks Larry Fitzgerald and Chad Johnson(and with TO burning my ass last year), I really have no choice.

I narrow it down to Brian Westbrook and Willie Parker. Westbrook gets more touches, but Parker can score from anywhere on the field, and hopefully will get at least some goal-line carries this season (Hindsight: probably not). I take Parker.

Suss pops the TE cherry with Antonio Gates at 19. Yostal makes a quasi-jingo-ist pick with fellow Michigan alum Tom Brady to round out the top 20. Westbrook is next. Then TO.

Then Tom takes Reggie Bush at 23, and I could have thrown my cheat sheet out the window at this point. Fewer people are talking shit at this point, as we are all slowly realizing that every subsequent pick would be scraped off a shoe in any other draft. I realize I'm not the only one whose confidence is shot to hell. Holt, Tony G, The Offensive Roy Williams go next. Randy Moss, 'Quan, Domanick, Julius, then Hasselbeck and Droughns are selected to put the second round out of its misery.

I don't want to say I threw my notes out the window at this point, but I really had a case of panic. I took a QB with my next pick, and then had to scramble to put together a WR corps. I look at teams like Tom, Suss, and even GoinYostal, and I don't think my team has the balance that theirs do. I feel like, to some extent, that I am already stuck in a rather deep hole.

Here's how my team turned out after it was all said and done:

QB - Delhomme

RB - McGahee

WR - Galloway
Reggie Brown

TE - Troupe
C. Anderson

K - Longwell

DEF- Seattle

Yep. So I don't know if I shit the bed during the draft, or what. Maybe I don't know enough about FF, but I know enough to realize that this team, uh, blows. But that's it. 0-15, here I come...

Manditory Update in Italic Font: BigRicks and friends are in one of the two other Deadspin commenters' leagues, and their draft review is as thorough as it was prompt. Nice work, fellas. I look forward to being "demoted" to your league for 2007.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

A Pre-Game Playlist Fit For A F--king Badass

My junior year of college our football team went 3-5. I certainly bear no responsibility for that record. I was the fourth string left tackle for the scout team. Third string was a large sack of flour.

But I do know the real culprit: music. This was 1996, full bore into the neutering of rock. Before games, our locker room blasted a mix of one third Alanis Morrisette, one third Hootie, and one third Dishwalla. Or some other horrid shit. There were times I had to listen to Jagged Little Pill and/or Cracked Rear View IN THEIR ENTIRETY prior to a practice or a game. And you know what songs my team played on the locker room stereo when we won? One of them was "Breakfast at Tiffany's" by Deep Blue Something. The other one was "Send Me On My Way" by Rusted Root. That's right. The fucking Ice Age song. One time a friend and I tried putting a Faith No More CD into the player. It was ejected two minutes later.

This was bullshit. BULLSHIT. I get fucking pissed about to this very day. That is not football music. It's pussy music. Unacceptable. Fucking Unamerican. And these days, it's only gotten worse. One guy I met once said he didn't like seeing the band Idlewild play in concert because they were "a little too hard rocking". Excuse me? Too fucking hard rocking? Die.

That's why I, Big Daddy Drew, have taken upon myself to institute a mandatory pre-game playlist for all NFL locker rooms (and channel Maddox in the process). That's right. Ten songs, all guaranteed to bend you over and shove a stick of dynamite up your butt. I don't care if you like this music or not. If you don't like it, go write for fucking Pitchfork and have fun with the rest of your Animal Collective-loving dipshit breathren. This is FOOTBALL music, music designed to put you into a state of murderous rage and use up 80% of your energy before the game is even played. That's what real fucking football is all about. All these songs adhere to my DFF Principle, which states that a song cannot be considered rocking unless it's about Drinking, Fighting, or Fucking. Let's go:

1. "Enter Sandman" (Live) - Metallica - Live Shit: Binge & Purge
This song is just fine off the Black Album. But you know what's better? When it's being played in front of 100,000 drunken Mexicans, and includes the intro theme music from "The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly" that drives said Mexicans completely batshit. Crucial here is James Hetfield changing the lyric, "I tuck you in," to, "I fuck you in." Because nothing fires you up for a football game like the implicit threat of child rape. Also important is the moment right after Hetfield whispers the Lord's Prayer or whatever the fuck it is, when the crowd explodes into the chorus along with the band. Just thinking about it makes me want to put on a helmet and start bashing into things. That was always my favorite part of pre-game warm-ups.

2. "Creeping Death" (Live) - Metallica - Live Shit: Binge & Purge
And then I get even more fucking fired up when, right off of "Sandman," Hetfield screams to the crowd, "Fuck yeah, we're ready! You ready, my friends? Creeeeeping DEATH-AHHHHHHH!!!!!!" And then the drums comes in and everyone goes apeshit yet again. This song is most notable for the bridge, where Hetfield goads everyone into chanting "Die! Die! Die!" and then bassist Jason Newsted chimes in with "MOTHERFUCKER, DIE!!!!!" That is fucking awesome. My eyes turn beet red when that happens, and everything in my line of vision vaporizes into very fine dust. NOTE: Metallica died in 1990. Just so you know my stance.

3. "Whole Lotta Rosie" - AC/DC - Let There Be Rock
Every college coach tells you that victory is the main goal. Total bullshit. Victory is simply the means to achieve your real goal of getting ass-loaded and scoring some major league poon tang later that night. I know that's all I thought about (the latter never happened). That's why a five-minute, solo-laden rampage about banging fat girls will fire up any football player, even ones like myself who had no hope of scoring with anything other than microwaved nectarine. Maybe you think "Hell's Bells" or "Thunderstruck" would be better choices from the AC/DC collection. But I'm more of a Bon Scott man. Bon Scott drank himself to death. Brian Johnson wears a golf hat. Advantage: Scott.

4. "You Think I Ain't Worth A Dollar, But I Feel Like A Millionaire" - Queens of the Stone Age - Songs for the Deaf
This song got Queens of the Stone Age bassist Nick Olivieri so fucking fired up, his clothes melted right off of his body. He was also later booted from the group for beating his girlfriend, possibly while naked. What I like is the low key intro that suddenly shifts into Olivieri screaming, "DUT LO!!! THE LIEFFEL LAHH!!!!! ONLY BASTAGE DID TASTE THE GAHHHH!!!" I know those aren't the actual lyrics, but I like mine better, because I like the idea of being so fucking jazzed to go out and murder someone that you can't even speak proper English. There's also a false ending to this song, which then kicks back in with Olivieri going, "UNNNHHHH!!!!" and then kicking more ass. Suck on that, Rusted Root. And suck it hard.

5. "The Trooper" - Iron Maiden - Piece of Mind
Written exclusively about Kellen Winslow (or British soldiers during World War I, I'm not sure which), this is a crowning achievement in 1980's British Metal asskicking. During concerts, Bruce Dickinson of Maiden would unfurl a big fucking Union Jack while singing this song and wave it around on the stage. I'm not even British and that makes me want to machine gun down any piece of shit Flemish person that I encounter. Hey, Chester Bennington of Linkin Park: This is Bruce Dickinson. This is how you sing like a fucking Rock God. Take notes, and then slash your wrists. Pussy. Football is for killers!

6. "Tilted" - Sugar - Beaster
I don't care that you've never heard of this song, or this band, or this album. All you need to know is that this song will beat you to death with a lead pipe. It also contains the single greatest guitar solo ever recorded. Great guitar solos must do three things: 1) Be short, 2) Establish their own melody, and 3) Give you a raging hardon. Done, done and done.

7. Last Two Minutes of "Paradise City" - Guns N Roses - Appetite for Destruction
I don't need all of this song. Just give me the end, where Axl makes you think the song is finished by going, "Take me hoooooooooooooooooooooome!" but then suddenly the rest of the band flies back in to lose their fucking minds and play their instruments as fast as humanly possible. For a visual cue, I offer you the video. The awesome part that kills your brain cells is the when they shift almost entirely to the black-and-white footage at Donnington. A couple people got stomped to death by the crowd during this Guns set, and that is fucking sweet. Bonus points if you're rocking the white bicycle shorts.

8. "Fire Woman" - The Cult - Sonic Temple
There's no better song out there about a woman making you so horny you completely lose your shit. And that's what football is really all about: expending the energy accumulated through years and years of sexual frustration. Am I right, fellas? Fellas? Anyway, this is good place for this quote:

"Now when I listen to a really good song, I start nodding my head, like I'm saying 'yeeess' to every beat. Yes, Yes, Yes! This rocks! And then sometimes I switch it up like, No, No, No! Don't stop-a-rockin'!"

9. "Killing in the Name" - Rage Against the Machine - Rage Against the Machine
I don't even like Rage Against the Machine all that much. But can you argue with this song? No, you cannot. A friend of mine in high school told me about a kid he knew whose dad once coached on an Indian Reservation. One year, the coach took the Indian kids to the state title game. For his pre-game speech, the coach opened the doors to the locker room and pointed at the all-white opposing team and crowd out on the field. "Boys," the coach said, "those are the people that stole your land." The Indian Reservation team won by 50 points. Now, I don't believe that story for a second. But who fucking cares? It's awesome anyway. Oh, and one more thing:

Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me! (x11)

Good song.

10. "Moonshadow" - Cat Stevens - Greatest Hits
And here's your cool down period. Your palate cleanser, if you will. And, honestly, I can think of no music that pisses me off more than some dipshit Cat Stevens song.

That's the list. I'm fucking red in the face just typing about it. Imagine the damage you'll do on the field after taking this much riffage stright up your yingyang. Remember, this playlist is in the public domain now. So don't be surprised if every team in the league goes 16-0 this year.

NOTE: Rock is for pre-game. Hip hop is for post-game mellowing and/or getting fired up for your drunkon. I will post an all hip-hop post-game list later on sometime if I feel like it.

And yes, I like new music, too. If this list is a little old school for your taste, substitute in "Club Foot" by Kasabian and "From The Ritz To The Rubble" by Arctic Monkeys. They are mildly acceptable. Feel free to add your own suggestions in the comments.

NOTE FROM DREW: The flame war below was removed by CC. But I happily encourage comments from any disgruntled readers. I promise they will not be deleted, largely because I enjoy them so much. PS - I'm never writing a music post again ever ever ever.