You Gotta Keep Bawlmer Way Down in the Hole: The Hater's Guide to the Postseason

If, like myself, you find yourself confronted with an NFL postseason without a rooting interest and unmoved by Don Cheadle soliloquies, you must draw from the well of that most powerful of human emotions. Ok, well, lust probably won't do here. But the second most powerful, hate, will serve as a fine proxy. This is one in a series of posts filled with bile, spleen, vitriol and all-around nastiness toward all the teams involved with the sordid roundelay we know as the NFL Playoffs.

AFC 2nd seed -- Baltimore Ravens (13-3)

This year's postseason is marked by a few boring teams: the Jets, Chiefs, Seahawks, Eagles, Saints and Chargers; a few painfully or comically flawed teams: the Giants, Bears and Colts; and even a few moderately to extremely irritating ones: the Cowboys and Patriots.

But there's one overwhelmingly contemptible in the bunch: these carrion crows of Bodymore, Murderland.

There's nothing redeeming about the city of Baltimore or its football team. Well, there have been some compelling TV crime dramas chronicling the tragic shittiness of the city. That about covers it. Okay, H.L. Mencken was pretty cool, but he's been dead for more than 50 years.

The majority of Ravens fans are from outlying white trash communities like Dundalk or Pikesville, and on game day they shutter the meth lab, don their purple camo and Unitas jerseys and pile into their souped-up Toyota Camrys and head to M&T Bank. Any permutation of "douche," "retard," common swear or homosexual slur doesn't do justice to the repugnance of Brian Billick. This team isn't full of petty thugs like the Bengals. Half the team belongs in PMITA prison.

I hate them especially this postseason for two principal reasons: forcing me to root against Steve McNair and for Peyton Manning. McNair is a perfectly decent guy who got screwed over by the Titans and the Ravens were just lucky enough to reap the benefits. As terribly as the Colts match up against Baltimore, nothing would make me to happier to view the devastation that losing to Colts in the playoffs would wreak on Ravens fans. The suicide rate in the city might actually top the homicide rate. Most likely, the Ravens will roll over Indy, boast how they pulled one out against the Chargers in the regular season, then get their asses handed to them in San Diego.

Fun fact: My favorite movie of all time is the Sum of All Fears. I know: Ben Affleck crappiness matched up with Tom Clancy retardery. But here's the kicker: Baltimore gets blown the fuck up by a nuclear bomb. I own the DVD and it's the only part I've watched since buying it. Still the greatest purchase I ever made.

Hollywood executives, if you'd like me to watch your movie, have Baltimore get destroyed by a nuclear bomb. It doesn't have to be a major plot point and you don't even have to spend the money for the special effects. Just have some character mention that it happened as an aside.

Here's a helpful example: Insert the following dialogue into an otherwise unwatchable movie, like, say, Code Name: The Cleaner.

Lucy Liu: [Lame joke about race]

Cedric the Entertainer: [Lame joke about sex]

Lucy Liu: Hey, did you hear? Baltimore was destroyed by a nuclear bomb.

CtE: Really?

LL: Yep. Wiped off the map. No survivors.

CtE: Damn. I'm gonna miss me some crab cakes.

LL: They tasted like shit anyway.

And voila. I'm shelling out $10 everytime.

Last spring, some guy wrote a bitchy column in some Baltimore newspaper complaining about all the Steelers fans in the city and ripping Pittsburgh. I wrote a lengthy reply making similar criticisms about Baltimore and assumed that would be the end of it. To the guy's credit, he wrote me back a frank and telling reply about a month later:

"Hey. Thanks for your comments. You're right. Baltimore has the most wimpiest sports fans in America, & I was born and raised here! Can you think of another city that allows fans from other teams take over their stadiums as they do here? It makes me sick that this happens. Quite frankly, why have a team here if the fans from other cities support it?

Yes, isn't it amazing that Baltimore thinks it's great to have the image of a low-class frumpy Highlandtown woman with a beehive as it's image? Speaks for itself, doesn't it? A big city with a small town mentality. Ridiculous."

Now, I'm sure in the months since he wrote this, this guy is singing a different tune, what with the Ravens sweeping my Steelers in dominating fashion. But the core message remains the same: the Ravens have fair-weather fans and the city is eminently worthy of your contempt.

Or at least mine.

Thanks for Nothing, Blogger

Thanks for the day-long outage, dicks. Take your free publishing service and jam it up your urethra.


...and no, I don't want your fucking Beta version.

KSK Roundtable: Chiefs at Colts

About the time Peyton Manning threw his first interception on Saturday evening, Christmas Ape, Unsilent Majority, and I realized we were all online at the same time because our schadenfreude-tastic emails to each other kept arriving in rapid-fire succession. Off the cuff, we set up an AIM chat, so that we could share our experience of the game with you fine (read: drunk) readers.

I spent the last two days fixing our spelling mistakes and typos, adding pictures and links, and editing out the duller parts of the chat (which was most of it). In our defense, that's because a lot of the time we were talking about the game, which was also fucking boring.

Captain Caveman: I foresee a piece of cake post... all we have to do is be funny.
CC: Ready, GO!
Christmas Ape: Uh.....wozzle, wuzzle.
Unsilent Majority: Whitest fan bases in the league collide!

[The Chiefs, following a Ty Law INT that gave them a first-and-goal, choke away the opportunity with a missed field goal.]

CC: Good Christ the Chiefs suck.
CC: I'm gonna need to go to scotch earlier than I planned if I'm gonna watch this game.
Ape: Due to complete and utter incompetence, the part of the Kansas City Chiefs will be played by the cast of Prarie Home Companion in the second half, same quaint Mid-Western values!
UM: Does that mean Lindsay Lohan will be making an appearance?
CC: I thought she was on the Colts D-line.
UM: I'll get the Lysol ready just in case.
CC: (I'd still have sex with her.)
UM: (As would I.)
UM: But at this point it would be like throwing a football through a tire.
CC: Hey, it turns Peyton on.
Ape: Numm, numm wonderful dinner of fish sticks and chicken tenders - I'm a wealthy man.
UM: Jesus Ape, that's depressing.
Ape: Not as much as this game.
Ape: ZING!

[Lovie Smith is shown watching the game in the stands, leaning away from a white woman who we assume is his wife.]

Ape: Nice prep for losing next week Lovie. [NOTE: This was before the Seahawks won.]
UM: I love how Lovie's trying to pretend he's not with that white woman.
CC: Is he ashamed of her?
Ape: 12 percenter.
CC: 12 percent of the time, it works every time.

[Peyton Manning gets sacked or makes a bad throw or something. The screen cuts to Jim Sorgi stoically holding a clipboard.]

UM: Sorgi just looks like a football player.
CC: ...everything except the name on the back of his jersey.
UM: Okay, I need some food, what should I order?
CC: "Gross, you got me all Sorgi."
UM: Now I'm not hungry.

UM: They're setting up for a wedding at my house... I'm gonna have to crash. Super duper fly part 2!
Ape: Playoff cake.
CC: You're hosting a wedding but aren't invited?
UM: My apartment is a part of this mansion that gets rented out for huge parties.
Ape: +1 if you gush "it's so beautiful" while stuffing cake in your mouth.
UM: I hope it's an Indian wedding, they look like fun in the movies.
Ape: Lots of orange.
CC: And singing.
CC: And disapproving older generations.
UM: No, I meant feathers not dots.
UM: I'm going to hell.
Ape: Lots of tears.
UM: Not many Mohicans.
CC: Those Indians have weddings still?
CC: I guess it makes sense, what with the casinos and all.
UM: They're kind of like pox parties...only smaller.
Ape: Does the D.C. gambling commission issue wedding licenses?

[A Grey's Anatomy commercial. Ugh.]

CC: If somebody bombed the set of Grey's Anatomy, I'd be okay with that.
UM: I don't think I'd spill any tears.
CC: Easily the worst show since Sex and the City.
UM: Who started the whole "Sandra Oh is attractive" thing?
UM: ...because she looks like a dog cross-bred with a llama.
CC: Llama-dog? That might turn Monday Morning Punter on.

[The Halftime Show features an unemployed Jim Mora, Jerome Bettis suggesting the Chiefs -- who don't have a first down yet -- wait on benching Trent Green, and Peter King with the inside scoop that the Steelers might hire Russ Grimm or Ken Whisenhunt. To stave off boredom, UM posts the link to his experience at Gilbert Arenas's birthday party.]

Ape: Last time I was at Love/Dream, this annoying girl I had to go with fell down the stairs on the way out.
UM: HAHAHAHA!
Ape: Even the bouncer laughed at her.
UM: What were you doing at the club in the first place?
Ape: Moment of weakness.
Ape: I hate clubbing - that was the last time I was there - it was at least 3 years ago.
CC: Even I go to the Meatpacking District every now and again.
CC: It's the allure of side-boob.
UM: Last night's level of side-boob was something to behold.
UM: Then there were the girls wearing nothing but body paint...
Ape: DC clubs are horrible though, especially 1223.
UM: Yeah CC, the NYC clubs are a helluva lot different than DC clubs.
UM: Yours are more irritating and less deadly.
CC: Well, NYC has Jersey and Staten Island assholes.
UM: Exactly.
CC: ...and DC has black people.
UM: hahaha
UM: They're just like you and me.
UM: Only more confident in their dancing.
UM: HEY THE GAME'S ON!
CC: I can't believe I didn't notice.

[Chunky soup commercial]

UM: KSK needs a "team mom."
CC: Dallas Becca.


UM: Can she heat soup?
CC: With her vagina, I'm certain.

Ape: At 10 this morning I checked the catalog online of the library looking for The Blind Side. The catalog said they had it. I was there 30 minutes later and it was checked out. I hate being poor.
UM: I just sent my copy to my brother, you should have called dibs.
Ape: My editor mentor/father-figure at [redacted] is almost done with it, but he's finishing his book on Clarence Thomas, so who knows how long it'll take him to finish it.
UM: "My editor mentor/father-figure" ...tell us where he touched you.
CC: UM, don't you have The Blind Side?
UM: I just said I sent it to my brother.
CC: Ohhhhhhh...
UM: Wake up jarhead.
CC: Paying attention to my scotch.
UM: Oh shit, I have a second copy.
CC: IN YOUR FUCKIN FACE!
Ape: Military 1, Jews 0
UM: I totally forgot I pre-ordered it on Amazon when I was high... totally forgot... and bought it at the airport on a business trip.
Ape: Journalism 0

[Christmas Ape's AIM screen name is a reference to Vonnegut's Kilgore Trout. Two of his more popular journalistic efforts have investigated beekeeping and a lost dog. With the scotch taking hold, I write, "Good call, ape-trout bee-dog."]

Ape: Apetrout Beedog should be a Kool Keith track.
UM: Or a really bad Etan Thomas poem.
CC: Or a member of Wu-Tang.
Ape: Or a stupid name for a reverse screen.
CC: FreeDarko contributor.
Ape: LeBron lovechild.
UM: Pretentious micro-brew.
UM: Almost like Dogfishhead.
CC: Manbearpig.
CC: Cereally.
UM: I can't hear that without laughing.

[This Southwest Airlines ad comes on, for approximately the 20,000th time this season.]

Ape: Like the black woman in the airport men's bathroom wouldn't tell all the whities to go fuck themselves.

Let's just end it there, shall we? The Colts won, 23-8... not that any of us watched all the way to the end.

A Guide to Recognizing Hating Your Saints: The Hater's Guide to the Postseason

If, like myself, you find yourself confronted with an NFL postseason without a rooting interest and unmoved by Don Cheadle soliloquies, you must draw from the well of that most powerful of human emotions. Ok, well, lust probably won't do here. But the second most powerful, hate, will serve as a fine proxy. This is one in a series of posts filled with bile, spleen, vitriol and all-around nastiness toward all the teams involved with the sordid roundelay we know as the NFL Playoffs.

NFC 2nd seed -- New Orleans Saints (10-6)

I already know what you're thinking:

How can you hate on these Saints? Think of all the triumph through adversity: the white Saints fans overcoming the cries of poor people on the way into the stadium, Hollis Thomas overcoming the confines of rules with steriods, Reggie Bush finding a way to live with himself in spite of staggering media inattention.

Well, to that I say: Tragedy + time = humor HATE!!!!!!!!!

Tony Kornheiser told me back in Week 3 that this city was back from the ravages of Hurricane Katrina and I believed it, dammit. If I have a fault, it's that I always believe what Tony Kornheiser tells me. Bald people are sexy! Wilbon is a terrorist! Reggie Bush is a god among lesser gods with marginal marketing potential! Allah doesn't sell jerseys!

If what Tony says is to be believed, there's no reason I have to pull for this team anymore. All is well in the Big Easy. Sean Payton has his Coach of the Year award. Drew Brees got his MVP consideration. Marques Colston made some savvy fantasy football owners happy. The cockles of my heart are so very, very warm. Now the Saints, like the city of New Orleans, should get back to what they do best: fucking up.

We all know what we're gonna see if the Saints continue to advance. Overhead shots of the lower Ninth Ward submerged in water. Ray Nagin making insipid bets against mayors of opposing cities. "Hey, Richard Daly: you put up some deep dish pizza, we'll put up some distended, macerated corpses." Spike Lee docs starting with Reggie Bush scoring that flipping TD against the Steelers (Everybody conveniently forgets that he had a costly fumble later in the game. I mean, c'mon). All that shit is depressing.

No, I kid. New Orleans is a completely sympathetic team, so much so that they make us confront painful truths (we can't look Drew Brees in the birthmark), and that's why they're utterly boring. They're Elway winning his in SB XXXII, Jeebus freak, grocery bagging, elfish woman loving Kurt Warner getting his in SB XXXIV, the improbable Patriots Tuck Ruling it up to capture SB XXXVI and Bettis last year. In other words, the media can't wait to have their bukkake.

Only This Time We Stand No Chance Whatsoever

Of course this post would fall to me. *Sigh*...


Hello KSK readers. Welcome to the BEST SPORTS BLOG on the Internet, as determined by the totally, completely, and in every which way unbiased opinion of the Weblog Awards. Being a New York City blogger, I learned recently from some hoity-toity (non-award-winning) New York City bloggers that the Weblog Awards are the Golden Globes to the Bloggies' Oscars.

Why do I mention this now? Well, the Bloggies are accepting nominations now through January 10th. And this year, for the first year ever, there's a sports blog category. Now, believe it or not, I'm not going to beg or promise hot buttered man-love, partly because my powers of whoredom are drying up, but mostly because this is the nomination process, and we can't stump for votes the way we did last month. In fact, here's how it goes down for the blogosphere's most prestigious awards:

From now until 10:00 PM Eastern Standard Time (GMT-5) on Wednesday, January 10, 2005, anyone can nominate their favorite weblogs.

That Saturday, January 13, three panels of 50 voters will receive an e-mail. It will list the weblogs that have receieved the most nominations in ten categories. They will have until 10:00 PM EST on Thursday, January 18 to privately submit their five favorites (six for Weblog of the Year) for each category. The five (or six for Weblog of the Year) receiving the most votes will become finalists. I (Nikolai Nolan) will only vote for the panel in the case of a tie for fifth place. This panel is on an opt-in policy; there is a checkbox on this form for it.

On Monday, January 22, the finalists will be announced and voting will be open again to choose the winners.

Confusing as shit, right? Anyway, it would be nice to be nominated, considering we are the BEST SPORTS BLOG and all, but we've gotten a late start to this thing, and you can only nominate us -- er, your favorite blogs -- once. However, there's no limit to the different categories we can be nominated in. Here are some of the fields we can be classified under:

- Best American Weblog. Hey, we write about fuckin' FOOTBALL, man. Who can compete with that?
- Best Sports Weblog. (Ahem.)
- Best Weblog About Music. Hey, remember the race flame wars after Big Daddy Drew wrote up his rock n' roll playlist? I do, and that's why I'm not linking to it.
- Best Gay/Lesbian/Bisexual/Transgendered Weblog. It's no accident we're the KSK Gay Mafia. Also, we like lesbians. Well, in theory, anyway.
- Most Humorous Weblog. Pajiba actually endorsed us for this. Pretty cool.
- Best Writing of a Weblog. With Unsilent Majority's syntax, we definitely don't deserve this one. You should vote for Wizznutzz.
- Best New Weblog. We done got born in late June back in ought-six, and we've been crushing brown stars ever since.
- Best Group Weblog. The requirement? "Weblogs written by an exclusive group." It doesn't get more exclusive than the Gay Mafia. We're having our own Super Bowl/BEST SPORTS BLOG award party, and you're probably not invited.

Don't worry, I've been saving sticks of butter, and I'll bring my camera.
Anyway, if you get the hankering to head over to the Bloggies to fill out the nomination form, be sure to have other blogs in mind -- you need to single out three blogs in any field you nominate KSK decide to cast a vote. For example, for Best Sports Blog, I nominated Kissing Suzy Kolber, With Leather, and the Seahawks FanHouse The Dugout.

A lot of people will vote for the usual excellent blogs (see our blog roll), but don't forget the valiant, noble writings of the Diecast Dude, either. That guy loves us.

Okay, thanks for your attention during the self-promotional shit. For your patience, here's some cheerleader tit-tays.


(Italicized and parenthetical NOTE: You may remember my promise to write the ultimate Sports Figure/Team as Pop Culture/Historical Icon post if we won the Weblog Award. I haven't forgotten about it -- it's on the docket for after the Super Bowl, when all of our storylines dry up. I make good on my promises.)

I got something better than school but don't tell anybody

After tonight's game there are going to be a few more college dropouts gettin' paid.

Tonight we're given a brief respite from the professional fucktards like Tony Romo and Eli Manning. As much as I love the NFL playoffs I need the break. There's only so much verbal fellating I can listen to over the course of a week and after watching the likes of the Fetus and the Dreamboat I'm ready for a break. But that's just one of the many reasons I'm so excited to watch 22 Sociology/Communications majors take the field in tonight's BCS National Championship.

Aside from this I must admit I'm a lifelong Florida fan and nothing would make me happier than watching the Gators kick the shit out of the Buckeyes. Which brings us to another reason for me to watch, I fucking hate Ohio State. I hate Jim Tressel with his dirty connections in Youngstown (*cough*Mob*cough*) right down to his All American payroll.

But those are just the reasons I have for watching tonight; the real reason NFL fans give a shit is because both of these schools produce draft day talent on a yearly basis. So if you're one of those NFL only football fans who will be tuning into his or her first serious college action of the season are going to need a handy guide. So here it is, all of the exciting play-makers that you might as well get familiar with now. That way you can head out to the bar and impress all of the ladies with your knowledge just as the game starts. Drop these nuggets and you're sure to be on the receiving end of some bathroom knowledge at halftime.

The Ohio State Buckeyes

QB Troy Smith (S)- He won the Heisman and he plays quarterback at Ohio State so he probably shouldn't count on a very long NFL career. His childhood sucked and he's boys with Ted Ginn, one of them will probably end up in the other's entourage.

DT Quinn Pitcock (S)- Yeah, he's got a name that would lend itself pretty well to Drew's erotic "fiction" but he's a badass. Then again he also wears some fruity headband to keep his hair in place. Bitch? Badass? It's a tossup.

WR Anthony Gonzales (J)- May or may not be the great nephew of Speedy Gonzales. Seriously, I haven't seen a Mexican run like that since I was in Nogales, Arizona. You're going to get us in trouble again.

WR Ted Ginn (J)- He's fast as a motherfucker and he's got great hands, but he doesn't run routes very well and doesn't get open nearly as much as he should. Regardless a good game tonight would make it likely he'd follow his BFF into the draft.

RB Antonio Pittman (J)- He's a dynamic, productive, yet underrated running back; at OSU that's pretty fucking rare. I have a feeling he's going to the draft, mostly because he'd lose half of his job next year (and that means the boosters give him half the money!).

LB James Lauranitis (So)- I don't care how fucking "great" he may be at playing "football"... his father is Animal from LEGION OF DOOM!!! I'm willing to bet that he had the coolest childhood ever... and that he's on steroids.

RB Chris Wells (F)- Maurice Clarett Jr. looks just like his predecessor as promised, however he doesn't dream of playing linebacker and he probably doesn't even own a hatchet. Pussy.

The Florida Gators

QB Chris Leak (S)- He doesn't get nearly enough credit for his career, plus the poor bastard had to live through the Ron Zook era. Combine that with his willingness to welcome a freshmen quarterback into the fold and he rates somewhere in between Mother Theresa and Nelson Mandela (but Mother Theresa was a total bulldyke)

DT Marcus Thomas (S) - The most dominant defensive tackle in the country, a title that was even more difficult to attain considering how high he was. My boy got booted off the team halfway through the year for imbibing indulging in one of my personal favorite hobbies. Oh well, he's still a top twenty pick like Warren Sapp.

WR Dallas Baker (S)- They call him the Touchdown Maker. He's going to score at least one of them but they'll mention the nickname roughly fifteen times so get ready for that! They say he's too slow to play in the NFL, but that just makes Matt Millen want him more!

RB DeShawn Wynn (S)- He's a solid back but he's used to keep the rythym for the whacked out offense... like Rick Allen with two arms.

K Chris Hetland (S)- Just kidding, he's about as useful as a textbook at FSU.

S Reggie Nelson (J)- He's going to come out in the draft this year and he's going to be the best player available no matter what the helmet-headed fucktard tells you. He's going to redefine the word "meast" as we know it. Since he last played his beloved mother succumbed to cancer, of course his coaches told him Ted Ginn killed her.

WR Andre Caldwell (J)- They're either going to call him Andre or Bubba, it's a game time decision. Yes, he's Reche's brother and yes, Reche is watching the game at his house with the three other Gator receivers on the Pats roster (Bill Belichick, stealing Steve Spurrier's ideas for years).

ILB Brandon Siler (J)- He's an animal inside and he's probably going pro just like every other linebacker Florida's ever had.

DE Jarvis Moss (J)- He doesn't get the same love as some of the other ends in the country but he makes huge plays. Look for him all over the field tonight.

ATH Percy Harvin (F)- He plays wide receiver but he runs the ball as often as he catches it. If he gets into the open field it's already too late. If I were creating the perfect child his little swimmers would be near the top of the list.

QB Tim Tebow (F)- He makes Jesus look like Evil-Jesus.

If I See Tony Romo, I'm Gonna Give Him A Big Hug

One thing I think I think this week is that, if I see Tony Romo, I'm gonna walk up to him and greet him with open arms. I'm gonna tell him, "Young man, you are the future of this franchise. Don't let one little mistake drag you down. You've got a lot of football left in you. You should listen to me, because I am a reporter and what I say is important."

Than I'm gonna give the guy a nice, big hug. I think everyone needs a hug every now and then. I know I do. I'm going to hug him long and hard. I'm gonna wrap my arms around his sturdy frame, caress his broad shoulders, and embrace him tightly. I'm going to feel his rippling muscles on the tips of my fingers. Then I'm going to bury my nose into the nape of his neck and take in his scent. I imagine him smelling faintly of cedar, with just a hint of Kiehl's cucumber lotion. I'm gonna take a long, deep draw of Romo's heavy musk, then close my eyes and imagine us swaying on a hammock together in open fields of Latrobe, Pennsylvania.

Then I'll nibble his ear just a little. He'll pull back just a bit, and I'll say, "Did I hurt you baby? I'm so sorry." He'll laugh. Then I'll nibble again, softly and gently. Then I'll whisper to him:

Fuck me like you own me.

Then I'm going to take off my pants and turn around. Then I'm going to let Throwmo dock himself in my port. At first, he'll seem too big, like a summer sausage. But as I relax my bowels, I'll let him go deeper. People will see us in the locker room, but I won't care. I'll lose myself in the rapture of his mighty cock bobbing in and out of me. I'll reach down between my legs and grab his balls and give them a little squeeze and tell him:

Show me some of that Mexican fire, big boy.

Then he'll just lose it and start plunging me like a clogged toilet. The smell of sweat and sex will become hopelessly intermingled as he fucks me deeper, harder. God, it's just gonna be so fucking intense.

You almost there, hot rod?

He'll barely nod, at which point I'll turn around and gobble his cock like a starving orphan. Then he'll let out a savage groan and spray a gallon of Romo lotion all over my hair. And I'll tell him he's more like Favre than he'll ever know.

You know, if I see him.

Michael Vick is now Bobby Petrino's problem

Bobby Petrino, as you may have heard, has taken the Atlanta Falcons head coaching jorb. Petrino, who just last week lead the University of Louisville to an Orange Bowl victory, inherits proven coach-killer Mike Vick. If Petrino doesn't make Vick into a consistent, effective winner, no one ever will. And if he can't turn Ron Mexico into a productive quarterback, in the interests of his own job security, he needs to at least learn how to manage Falcon owner Arthur Blank's lofty expectations for Vick.

* * * Homer Alert * * *

Many Louisville fans are justifiably pissed about Petrino jumping ship after signing a ten-year contract in 2006. I will leave it to the always excellent Card Chronicle to make the case against Petrino. However, I resigned myself to this inevitable fate quite some time ago. I'm just glad to get a BCS bowl win before it happened.

After his first season at Louisville, Petrino was caught secretly meeting with Auburn. After his second season (2004), Petrino signed a contract extension and then shamelessly interviewed with LSU a week later. Petrino's word was proven to be worthless early on. Only a wide-eyed naif didn't see Petrino's hasty exit coming sooner rather than later. If there is one small silver-lining, it's that now there is absolutely no chance Louisville will waste a scholarship on Petrino's midget son.

* * * End Homer Alert * * *

Atlanta is expected to have a press conference at 2 p.m. today formally introducing Petrino. Early speculation is that Louisville will go after Tulsa's Steve Kragthorpe.

Ash knows: the chances of Brian Brohm returning to Louisville for his
senior season are jack and shit-- and jack just left town.

How 'bout dem Cowboys???

Tony Romo may have a bright future in the NFL. He may be tapping some hot country singer ass. But today, I sure as hell wouldn't trade places with him. Romo made the weekend of Cowboy Haters nation-wide. No less a wordsmith than my old man called Romo's dropped snap: "a plain old choke."


It seems unfortunate that No Mo' Romo will be remembered as the sole reason for Dallas crapping the bed. Hopefully, history will note Snitchin' Terry Glenn's significant contribution to the collapse.

Feeling cautiously optimistic, I checked the ebays this morning to see if one particular Cowboys fan had weighed in with his thoughts on Dallas's latest come from ahead loss. He did not disappoint....

Hopefully this poor bastard didn't do anything rash. We would miss clowning on him next season.

Thanks to commerter gnarticulation for the link to the Romo pic.

This is Our Cotchery

It's 10-10 midway through the 2nd quarter in New England and the game so far isn't shaping up to be the Patriots blowout that dribbling cocksnot Bill Simmons said it would.

More importantly, KSK favorite Jerricho Cotchery has scored on a 77-yard catch and run. The Mangini nips are hard. Hopefully, dipshit commenter Beantown, who I suspect may be Deadspin dipshit commenter supermike2, is shitting himself.

I realize I just probably jinxed the Jets.