Posts Tagged ‘LeBron James’

I think that, societally, we can all agree with one another that we could use some more emojis in our day-to-day lives.  What are these intricate, decipherable little images, if not a chance for us to communicate with one another more effectively.  Right?  Right.

So, with that being said, and with all the excitement of the NBA Playoffs Eastern and Western conference finals engulfing the sports world, we thought it would be a good time to debut some NBA conference final emojis.  Here they are with a Rosetta Stone style explanation to help you out with their translation and day-to-day usage.  You’re welcome in advance.

Definition: The Cutest

What it is: A picture of Steph Curry’s adorable little daughter that he brought with him to the press conference after the Warriors’ Game 1 win in the Western Conference finals.

How to use it: If there’s something so cute that you really can’t describe it?  BOOM.  Emoji that piece.  Just make sure, whatever you do, that you don’t send it to Brian Windhorst.

Used in a tweenage text-sentence: 

Guy: “I totes LY babe.”
Girl: “Our love is like Cute

Definition: This was supposed to be easy, but I keep F-ing it up. HELP!!

What it is: An image of Houston Rockets center, Dwight Howard, after he continues to shoot 40% from the Free Throw line.

How to use it: ever have something that’s supposed to be, like, super-easy but for some reason you struggle with it?  Like remembering which direction is East when your inside your office building?  Or reading a non-digital clock?  Get your emoj on.

Used in a tweenage text-sentence:

Dude #1: “Come pick me up. I’m on the East side of the building.”
Dude #2: “Which side is the one on the East? I suck at directions.”
Dude #1: “The place where the Sun rises, idiot. THE EAST.”
Dude #2: “Brick


Definition: OMGOMGOMG: RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What it is: An image of Kyle Korver running directly out of LeBron’s path with the stupefied look of pure terror that usually only accompanies someone getting stabbed from behind in a Friday the 13th movie while they’re in mid-coitus.  Korver, appearing for all the world like a man who knew his time had come, treated Bron-Bron like an Ebola patient having a coughing fit and cleared out of his vicinity with all the haste his legs would allow.

How to use it: Anytime you think that the S is about the hit the F.  The end of days is nigh and you need to get out.  Here’s the emoji to warn everyone in the most dire of circumstances.

Used in a text-sentence:

Guy: “Hey, baby. I managed to sneak in your window and I’m up in your bed. . .;)”
Girl: “You did?!? My Dad just pulled up in the driveway! Run!

Definition: I’m cooking us food.

What it is: James Harden’s celebratory cooking dance.

How to use it: Are you getting ready to make a delicious meal (*Author’s note: and then post the obligatory photo to your Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter feeds in an effort to show people that you are both handy in the kitchen and so above eating out.) and you want someone to know?  Harden will handle that.

Used in a text-sentence:

Girl: “Hey, girl. I’m hungry. You wanna come get some food?”
Girl #2: “Actually, why don’t you come over here and let’s Hungry?”

Girl #1: “As long as we can post it with my favorite IG filter. I like Valencia when I’m showing the food I’m eating.

Definition: You’re cursed, son!

What it is: The great voodoo shaman, Lil B, curser of NBA players and scorcher of the earth! Bow before his might and wrath!  (*Author’s note: Lil B was not consulted in the writing of this article and I would greatly appreciate it if he spared me from one of his legendary curses.)

How to use it: Are you worried that someone is stealing a patented dance move of yours to celebrate hitting a clutch three pointer in the NBA Playoffs?  Do you think that someone has disrespected you or has horrendously bad luck?  Then this is the emoji for you.

Used in a text-sentence:

Dude #1: “Man, so I just shattered that mirror I keep underneath my ladder when I walked underneath to open this mummy sarcophagus. My black cat won’t get out of the way either. lol.”

Dude #2: “Cursed

Dude#2 (again): “Cursed

Dude #2 (just to reiterate): “Cursed



The NBA is hosting a fashion show this Friday for the NBA All-Star game.  The event, which will later air on TNT prior to Saturday’s night All-Star festivities, will feature real NBA players doing the modeling as well as commentary from some of TNT’s on-air personalities.  Which.  Is.  Hilarious.  The Twitterability of this event should land it in the pantheon of goodbad ideas and will undoubtedly make fashion experts out of all the schlubby bloggers who sit behind their keyboard without ever having worn a single man-scarf or fedora and who still think that hooded sweatshirts are cool (*Author’s note: see: me.)

So I figured, why wait.  Let’s try to see what we might be able to expect on Saturday when the general public is treated to NBA players strutting their fashion stuff on a runway.  Here are just a few ideas on what we may see.

Model: Tyson Chandler

Designer: Spud Webb’s Tailor

Sporting the latest look from Spud Webb’s tailor, Tyson Chandler shows us exactly what happens when a Schmedium suit lands itself on an XXL frame.  Chandler shows that it’s not the cut of the suit, but whether or not that suit would work if you had to ford the river on the Oregon Trail and still wanted to look sleek and sexy.  Is he running to Noah’s Arc with two animals under each arm, trying to avoid the world-ending flood?  Or did he borrow this suit from fellow NBA great Mugsy Bogues’ closet?  Either way, you can be sure of 1 thing: he looks dang good.


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Model: Chris Andersen

Designer: Ted Nugent

Showing off the latest in camouflage chic, Chris Andersen shows off that not only is he “the birdman” but he’s also probably leaving the arena and going pheasant hunting immediately.  When you watch this paragon of cool walking thee runway, we know just what you’re saying to yourself: Wait, where did he go?  Oh, there he is.  Damn, that’s fashionable.  And, boy, would you be right.

Model: LeBron James

Designer: Whoever came up with the wallpaper at your parents’ house

LeBron James has a net worth somewhere in excess of 450 billion, trillion, bajillion dollars.  So what does a guy who has a bigger checking account than God do when he’s in the mood to try something new?  Probably borrow some designs from my parents’ bathroom wallpaper guy, give them to whomever designs the Olympic Ice Dancing team’s uniforms and then demand they make it “More red.  Like, blood from The Shining red.”  Is he paying a moving homage to the clothing in Memoirs of a Geisha or is he just trying to make you feel nostalgic for your Grandma’s closet?  We may never know.

Model: Russell Westbrook

Designer: King Arthur’s Personal Armorer

Russ Westbrook is one of the NBA’s most dynamic young talents.  The only thing Middle Aged about him is this period piece he’s rocking that is a nod to his favorite off-court pastime: renaissance fairs.  Is Westbrook expecting someone to challenge him to a duel?  Is that why he looks like he’s about to saddle a white steed, grab a lance, and charge into a blistering jousting battle?  And for all you ladies wondering what’s underneath?  We can only assume: chain mail!  Also, does he have his family crest in that murse?  It’s too small for a broadsword.  Prithee, sir Westbrook.  What hast thou in yonder man-purse?


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Model: Paul George

Designer: A Country Music Singer on Acid That’s Listening to Trip-Hop

Confused?  Me too.  But you know who’s not?  Paul George.  He knows exactly who he is, in this stunning ensemble that is designed to make you feel like you’re staring a little too hard at those Mossimo shirts from 1995 that somehow rose to prominence.  Is Paul leaving the arena tonight and going to a disco party that’s being hosted by blind aliens aboard their Studio 81 themed flying saucer?  Or is he trying to pull our eyes out of their sockets and to his Little Mermaid colored pants?  Good question.  Regardless of the answers, he’s going to leave one retinal-scarring fashion statement forever seared into your cerebral cortex.  It begs the question: was Paul George’s leg really injured in that gruesome tumble during Team USA’s scrimmage this summer, or was that just the recurrence of an old injury he suffered after falling from his stunt-wired position as a human disco ball at Burning Man?

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Model: Tony Parker

Designer: Realistically?  Probably Tony Parker.  He is French, after all.  Don’t they all have some kind of fashion line?

Tony Parker, master of dribble-drive penetration and potentially doing his teammates’ wives, is also known for being a seriously handsome dude.  So feast your eyes on the latest in distressed pleather couture.  What’s couture, you ask?  I have no idea.  Just ask the French guy with the purse.  The idea for this vintage jacket was first developed when Tony Parker accidentally stumbled into a spare room of his mansion and witnessed Indiana Jones’ jacket making sweet, sweet jacket-love to a leather vest designed for mid-life crisising women.  Fashion fusion immediately sprung from the loins of those two star cross’d closet lovers and Tony tossed it on just in time to head down to the game.

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Model: James Harden

Designer: A Twelve-Year-Old girl who fell asleep while watching Powder Puff Girls

Wearing the latest in Tweenage-girl rhythmic gymnastics attire, James Harden shows off exactly what can happen when you match an inimitable beard with a flair for My Little Pony design concepts.  Never one to shy away from a slicing drive to the hoop or a mess chest opening that looks like it was most likely crocheted by a woman during her weekly book club meetings, Harden brings an edge to a shirt that can only be described as a cotton candy worm hole.


The NBA is 10 weeks into it’s 2014-2015 season.  It has been another completely fascinating season for an fascinating league.  The storylines are thicker than a rapper’s booty model girlfriend and the characters have continued to be so rife with ridiculousness that you can’t possibly capture it all in a (*Author’s note: undoubtedly too-long) post.  So I’ll just try to touch on my favorite things in the NBA so far this season.

New York Knickerbotchers

In spite of landing a highly sought-after GM (*Author’s note: none other than the master of Zen himself, Phil Jackson) and getting a new coach (none other than the utterly un-sought-after Derek Fisher) the Knicks have become an abomination.  There hasn’t been something this ugly occurring in New York City since this scene from Friday the 13th VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan.

If you’re searching for Derek Fisher?  You better check the bottom of the Eastern conference where the Knicks have prepared to cellar-dwell in a tank-off battle royale with the Philadelphia 76ers.  They’ve traded away any possible assets to the team, dumping JR Smith to the Cleveland Cavaliers (*Author’s note: more on that later) and generally slashing and burning their way through their roster like it’s Peruvian rain forest in the way of “progress.”

What has Carmelo Anthony done, watching his team disintegrate from between his once-clenched fists like sand from an hour glass?  In the most Carmelo way possible: by scoring a lot and wearing weird hats that look like they were designed by Michael Jordan’s stylist.


Carmelo’s hat, which can only be described as acid-washed Willy Wonka  Couture, has for sure been the Knick’s MVP this year.

The Browhairmian Rhapsody

While you may not be able to tell if Anthony Davis is furrowing his eyebrow, or if he is actually letting his lower forehead region play host to a caterpillar gang-bang, one thing you cannot mistake?  How far his game has come this year.  The 3rd year man out of New Orleans is having an absurd year.  Here are his stats from this season.


(*Author’s note: I’ve added in some key points here in a crappy, moronic attempt to draw a dude with a unibrow.  See?

Swaggy Giveth and Swaggy Taketh Away

In spite of playing what, at times, completely devolves into D-League basketball, the Los Angeles Lakers have remained supremely watchable.  Unlike all the 30 spray-tanned contestants that came ball-gowning out of their limosines on this week’s The Bachelor, though, I’m here for all the wrong reasons.  I’m watching the Lakers to see if Kobe will defiantly try to treat father time like he’s Smush Parker.  I’m watching to see if Swaggy P will continue his assault on the record books (*Author’s note: for most delightfully insane quotes) and I’m watching to see if I can appropriately shout out “Sacre Bleeeechhh” when Robert Sacre gets used in the paint.

The Lakers are, in short, a train wreck.  But they’re not a sad, depressing, black and white trainwreck.  They’re a climactic, Hollywood, Imax catastrophe that begs us to watch.  The catalyst?  Who else.  Swaggy P.  Or, for those of you without a pack-a-day Twitter habit who aren’t fiendishly looking to shoot up with NBA pop culture references as soon as you find a vein, I’m talking about Nick Young.  He dresses in pants that are – I’m not joking, here – called “Crotch Droppers” (*Author’s note: seen below)


dates a hyper-successful female rapper, and somehow has the courage (*Author’s note: read: Swag and/or stupidity) to call out Kobe Bryant when he feels it’s necessary.

Hell, he celebrates missed 3-pointers, and ranks himself as the best 3-Point shooter.  Ever.

He and Harvard grad Jeremy Lin routinely have insane conversations that leave you wondering if Swaggy is really clever or completely out of his mind.  The answer might be both.  That’s what makes this Lakers team so interesting: I just wrote about a dude whose nickname is “Swaggy” instead of Kobe Bryant.  In the mean time, I’ll keep tuning in to the Lakers’ games when I can.  They’re the SyFy channel movie of the NBA.  They’re horrendous.  They’re awful.  And yet I revel in their trashy goodness because it’s better than flipping the channel elsewhere and watching the soul-crushing depression that we call “The News.”

Kerr & Curry

Nope.  That’s not the name of TNT buddy cop drama.  At least not yet.(*Author’s note: keep your eyes peeled, though, because I would bet TNT has something similar to that exact name in pre-production right now.)


Curry is something of an offensive savant.  It doesn’t quite do him justice to just say that he’s “good” or “really f-ing good.”  There’s something different about his game, somehow, in a way that can make even the most long-winded writers (*Author’s note: See: me) struggle to quite put their wording to it.  It’s almost like you’re watching a genius compose a piece of music.  There’s so much at play, his crazy handles, his constantly probing court vision, and his hair-trigger release that allows him to get balls out of his hands faster than a hooker with police lights suddenly appearing in her John’s rearview.  There’s a next-levelness to Steph Curry’s game that has enabled him to be orchestral in his running of an offense.  At once, scoring, distributing, and doing things in a wholly unique and unconventional way.  He’s why the warriors are must-watch TV.  He’s why I’ll find myself cracking a late-night caffeine-in-a-can so that I can watch him play.

And Steve Kerr appears to be exactly the right fit for this supremely talented Warriors team.  He’s done a masterful job of balancing egos on a young team with a ton of talent and has gotten this team to buy into a defensive concept that has them looking like legitimate title contenders.  Klay Thompson has continued his Team USA fueled growth into becoming one of the best scorers in the game.  Unleashed in a fun, free-wheeling offense, and somehow still buying in on defense, Thompson appears to have been worth that dump-truck of money the Warriors tipped onto his lawn with all the grace of my 2-year-old Tonka-trucking it up.


It turns out that everybody does, in fact, Love Draymond as Draymond Green has also rocketed up the developmental ladder, finding himself in the midst of a stunning breakout year.  Kerr and Curry, Draymond and Klay.  The W’s went from a super-fun Michael Bay action movie (*Author’s note: a ton of flash and sizzle without ever really becoming something special) and have morphed themselves into a Christopher Nolan super-hero movie; substance and style all rolled into a scintillating package and given a terrible Christian Bale-beard on Andrew Bogut.

Blatt to the Future


As soon as LeBron decided to un-take his talents from South Beach it became clear that the Cleveland Cavaliers were to be his team.  Not GM David Griffin or Comic Sans manifesto-maestro, Dan Gilbert.  No.  This was about one thing and one thing only, and it was about that right from the start.  Keeping LeBron James happy.  So it’s been fascinating to watch the Cavs struggle to find their way.  They’ve traded and bartered, begged and borrowed and stolen.  They’re like that guy who’s treading water really hard and hasn’t drowned yet, but you find yourself what will happen when the lactic acid starts to creep into their proverbial limbs.

The Cavs have lost 9 of their last 11.  King James’ body is currently be usurped by the 40,000 minutes that have been put onto his young knees and Kevin Love looks like he might not have been worth trading Andrew Wiggins (*Author’s note: a thought that seemed preposterous a few months ago).  Will the Cavs be okay?  I think so.  Will they be good?  Who the hell knows.  LeBron hasn’t quite been himself this year, that much appears to be true.  Kyrie Irving has been playing more like start-of-the-pickup-game Uncle Drew than post-Pepsi-Max Uncle Drew and LeBron has been whispering sweet nothings into former teammates’ ears about getting the band back together.

The Cavs have been scrambling to make things work and make them work now.

They traded for Timofey Mozgov, got rid of Dion Waiters, and landed JR Smith and the copious flat top of Iman Shumpert.  Will these tweaks pay off?  Can LeBron get his body right in time to make a push through the lackluster Eastern conference?  Does JR Smith remind anyone else of DeLonte West (*Author’s note: and does this terrify LeBron beyond all measure?).  I can’t wait to keep watching to see if these questions can get answered.

In a league never short on storylines, these have been some of my favorites so far.  What about you?  What have you liked or hated so far about this incredibly fun NBA season?


2014 is almost in the books.  We here at Burnpoetry have decided to take you down the weird, wacky, and meandering path of the sports world for the year that was in our journey through the final 6 months of two thousand and fourteen.  If you missed the first half of our exhaustive recap of all the insanity that was 2014 in the sports world, here’s a link to Part I.

I’ve gone on record in part one, declaring that 2013 is still the weirdest year in sports history, but see if all the evidence I’m about to submit below doesn’t offer up support for 2014 landing in that #2 spot.

We only got through half the year and your intrepid author had to take a long, gasping breather, huffing into a paper bag in an effort to quell my journalistic hyperventilation.  Where’d I get the paper bag you ask?  It’s from the 40 I’m drinking to try to calm my nerves from having just endured the second craziest sports year on record.  Strap up, pour one out for the homies who didn’t survive the first 2500 words and let’s finish strong!


LeBrontourage, Season 8 Takes a Surprising Twist

2014 was, without a doubt, the Summer of LeBron.  With teams from all over swooping in to make a play for the best player in the NBA, offering everything from personnel power to unborn children to unlimited supplies of hair plugs, the King was inundated with interest from around the league.  Ultimately he chose to go home, penning an open letter-style piece in Sports Illustrated (*Author’s note: PRINT JOURNALISM STAND UP!) about how this decision was about more than basketball for him.  Cleveland promptly went ape-shit crazy, traded both of their utterly absurd back-to-back #1 draft picks to Minnesota and came away with Kevin Love and the core of a new “Big 3” for LeBron.  When the news broke, a panicked Chris Bosh immediately went looking for LeBron in the Heat’s team kitchen.


Once the LeBron domino fell, it triggered a slew of other free agent moves by the reactive NBA GMs as they all scrambled to find the next best thing.  The Heat had a bit of a rough July.  In fact, here was a heat map I created to show just how things went for the once-great “Heatles.”


The Lakers Keep Interviewing Byron Scott and keep interviewing Byron Scott and keepinterviewingbyronscott


The news broke in late July that the Lakers were calling in potential head coach Byron Scott for his third interview.  In typical Laker fashion, they had taken something that appeared relatively simple (*Author’s note: just give Phil Jackson whatever he wants to coach and/or GM the hell out of the team) and bungled and botched it with reckless abandon.  It begged the question: what the hell are they asking Byron Scott in interview #3 that they didn’t think of the first time around?  Eventually, Scott was hired on and the Lakers rapidly devolved into a suicide charge with Kobe Bean Bryant screaming and waving his bayonet at the front of the line as they stumbled and lurched their way towards another lottery pick.

Johnny Manziel, Limp Bizkit Superfan, keeps Rollin’, Rollin’, Rollin’

This July Johnny Manziel was, predictably, the center of a lot of 2014-style weirdness.  There was a constant stream of selfies and tabloid bombs were dropped virtually every day.  *Boom* Here’s Manziel with the Biebs.  *Boom* looks like Manziel was drunker than the guys from The Hangover last night.  Essentially, he was doing exactly what  I would’ve done if I was filthy rich, famous, and 22-years-old.  He was being an A-hole.  But when a photo emerged of the Browns QB in a Las Vegas nightclub appearing to be in the process of rolling a dollar bill, things got really strange.  Why was Johnny football rolling up a bill?  (*Author’s note: here’s where all the Browns fans simultaneously pray “please say there was a vending machine in there. . .please say there was a vending machine in there. . .”)

There’s really only one thing you use a dead-president-tube for and it’s not sipping choco milk out of your kiddie cup.  Hey, you might be saying, let’s not jump to conclusions, here.  It’s a bathroom in a nightclub in Vegas.  That’s one book you can judge by its cover.

And speaking of weird bathroom photos that blew up all over the internet in 2014. . .


Jerry Jones Appears to Misinterpret the “Sex” Part of the “Unisex” Bathroom

Johnny wasn’t the only one having fun in the bathroom in 2014.  Oh, no.  Cowboys owner Jerry Jones apparently had a pretty good time rolling up something of his own in the Boys room this year.  When photos emerged of Jerry Jones either groping women —  or performing amateur, temporary, breast augmentations for the women of Dallas — the Internet turned into a torrent of hilarity.  That a filthy rich old man may be a filthy old man isn’t particularly earth-shattering, but in true 2014 fashion the guy that broke the story turned out to also be completely bat-shit insane.

LeGarette Blount and Le’Veon Bell Get Caught Smoking We’ed

Yes.  It will always be funny when a guy whose name sounds like a device used for smoking a drug gets caught smoking that drug.  Also, it would appear that Le’Veon Bell’s use of mari’juana has le’d him to his be’st season ever.  Ta’ke that, the w’ar on dr’ugs.  Also, I would totally watch a stoner comedy show called Bell & Blount on IFC if it existed.

Battle For the Bluejay Heats Up

In August, news broke that the Toronto Blue Jays were suing the Creighton Bluejays for stealing their logo.  With both sides squawking (*Author’s note: thank you!) at one another, I stepped in to try to stop all the Jay-on-Jay crime and suggested a few trade scenarios.  Both sides needed something from one another, so I’m not sure why they didn’t compromise.  No word yet as to whether Rob Ford will be named Creighton’s Athletic Director.  (*Author’s note: fingers crossed!)

Josh Shaw Saves a Drowning Victim, Victim Turns Out to Be Manti Te’o’s Dead Girlfriend

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Josh Shaw is a defensive back at USC.  He made headlines this August after he injured his ankles, leaping from a balcony to save his drowning nephew.  Except that wasn’t exactly how it went down.  As it turns out, Shaw was less Baywatch-David-Hasselhoff – saving innocents from drowning in the sun-drenched pools of Sourthern California – and more drunken-cheeseburger-crushing-David-Hasselhoff.  While we’re not entirely sure what happened, causing the one-time USC Captain to sprain both ankles, it certainly wasn’t anything as heroic as saving someone from drowning.  It was just a weird excuse that blew up in Shaw’s face, getting him suspended for the bulk of the season by new head coach Steve Sarkisian.

Stephon Marbury Stars in his Own Chinese Musical



Mike Tyson and Rob Ford Meet Up to Bro Around Toronto, Tear a Gaping Hole Into Space-Time Continuum

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Have you ever seen a picture that’s too funny.  Like, you can’t even form vowel sounds (let alone words) when you’re looking at it.  You feel yourself being pulled forward, optically black-holed in and before you know if you’ve got drool spilling over a corner of your mouth and 15 minutes have.  That’s what happened to me with this picture.  No memes necessary.  No jokes that could top the fact that this is a very real, very un-photoshopped encounter.  This is 2014.  This is what the internet was invented for.  Thank you, Al Gore.

Ray Rice’s Video is Released

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Earlier in the year, news of Ray Rice’s domestic assault in an Atlantic City casino had broken and NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell reacted by really dropping the hammer.  No, seriously.  He dropped the hammer, picked up a ruler, and slapped Rice on the wrist.  Rice got a two-game suspension and the NFL believed they had dodged another PR bullet.  That is until the somehow-always-relevant-because-2014-is-really-f-ing-weird TMZ was able to obtain and release video footage of Rice, giving us images to go along with the text on a page.  Some pictures are worth a thousand words.  This one was worth millions.  And they were angry words.  Directed at the NFL.  And more importantly they were directed at the NFL’s wallet.

Goodell immediately slammed on the brakes and attempted to back pedal with all the rapidity of a DB dropping into coverage.  Rice was suspended indefinitely (*Author’s note: a punishment which has since been overturned upon appeal), the Ravens cut him from their rosters, and Goodell Butt-fumbled his way into a PR nightmare.  It was ugly.  And terrible.  And sad.  And the kind of weird that shouldn’t be around in 2014 but still persists.

Speaking of guys who wished they were dead in 2014. . .

Arkansas State Player Fakes His Own Death During Fake Punt

In what I would argue was the play of the year, an Arkansas State player faked his own demise in an effort to draw attention away from his team’s ill-fated fake punt.  How did they draw that up on the chalkboard at Ark State?



49ers Intern Equipment Guy, and Self-Proclaimed “Bro”, Uses His Stunning Hair to Land Gig Officiating Friends’ Wedding


Why does this matter?  How is this a story?  Here’s a closeup of what “The Bro” looks like:

This is 2014.  It’s a story: because a 49ers fan like me can follow an intern equipment guy that works for my favorite NFL franchise on Twitter, strictly because he’s the most absurd-looking dude on any sideline anywhere, and he can take that flowing mane and facial pelt to a beach and marry his friends.  That is why 2014 is amazing.  Congratulations to the couple, by the way.  For having the best mustachioed ceremony in history.  Oh, and on your marriage, too.


Biggest Day in Mississippi Football Ever and Somehow Katy Perry Steals the Show


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On Saturday October 4th, the state of Mississippi had what was likely the biggest football-related day they’ve had since some kid decided you had to say their state’s name 5 times before you got to rush the quarterback in backyard football.  Mississippi State defeated #6 Texas A&M and Ole Miss pulled off a shocking home upset of #3 Alabama.  But all anyone could talk about was a potentially drunk Katy Perry, seemingly selected at random from a diverse pool of potential guest-pickers, showing up on College Gameday and hitting on Oklahoma’s quarterback, waving phallic corndogs all over the place, and generally pulling ridiculous faces.  Why was she wearing a shirt that looked like it was handmade by some people working Jim Henson’s studio?  Why did she bug her eyes out and dramatically reveal a corndog?  Hopefully we’ll never know.  It’s better that way.

The Walking Ned Just Won’t Die

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I know there hasn’t been much baseball in the post so far.  And, truthfully there’s only going to be a couple of entries surrounding it.  I’m not usually much of a baseball guy.  But I found myself compelled to leap with both feet onto the KC Royals’ massive bandwagon this postseason.  They won in extra innings.  They eeked out impossible victories.  They were like zombies.  They just.  Wouldn’t.  Die.  They were. . .the Walking Ned.  Finally they met their match, falling in Game 7 of the World Series to the San Francisco Giants and the absurd Madison Bumgarner.  We’ll see if they can duplicate the success, but it was fun finding myself intrigued by baseball in October again.

And speaking of the world series, let’s take a look at the weirdness of the World Series MVP. . .

(*Author’s note: no, not that MVP. I mean this MVP.)

Chevy Guy Becomes the MVP of the World Series

A fumbling, bumbling, botched attempt to perform Chevy’s obnoxious corporate-sponsor plug led to the wide-spread internet enjoyment.  Thanks, Chevy guy.  For giving us all something to laugh about.  And stuff.

TCU Defense Continues to Pound it, Really Giving It To Opponents.  Hard.

TCU’s season started off strong and blah, blah, blah.  They’re defensive coordinator is named DICK BUMPAS?!?!?!?  His name and his mustache have to be taken directly from the set of Boogie Nights.  I mean, wouldn’t you just go by “Richard”?  (*Author’s note: if you’re going to Google him, just be very careful with your typing.)

Man With Tom Brady Helmet Tattooed on his Head is Arrested for Insider Trading


Okay, it was actually drug possession.  But I’m sure you knew that already.


The Curse of The Biebs Strikes Again



Justin Bieber has long been a highly visible presence in the sports world.  From his attending and competing in the All-Star celebrity basketball challenge during NBA All-Star Weekend, to his courtside seats for Heat games in Miami, The Biebs loves him some sports.  But there has been a theory developed recently, an insidious, dark, heart-stoppingly terrifying conspiracy that has begun circulating about our beloved Justin Drew Bieber: that he is cursed.  The Biebs is reverse Midas-touching sports franchises all over the globe, his mere presence appearing to doom the Spanish National team, the Miami Heat, and now the Pittsburgh Steelers.  Is it real? Man, do I hope so.

Melvin Gordon Breaks the NCAA Single-Game Rushing Record, His Reign Lasts 1 Week

That’s actual footage of Melvin Gordon playing against Nebraska.  It was that bad.  Melvin was treating the Huskers he was Dom Toretto and was living his life a quarter mile at a time.  Yeah, he went for that many yards on us.  He broke the NCAA Single game rushing mark. . .in 3 quarters.  Then he just kind of sat back and chilled, watching the Huskers continue to explode like a hastily thrown Molotov Cocktail, content to know that he would be the record holder for a long time to come.  After all, it had been since 1999 that anyone had gone for four hundy in a game.  This one would be safe for quite a long, long wh– what’s that you say?  It’s already been shattered?  Immediately?  Turns out, Oklahoma freshman Samaje Perine broke Gordon’s short-lived record the following weekend, posting 427 yards against Kansas.  Weird.

Kobe Bryant Takes Over All-Time Misses Lead


(Author’s note: I blatantly stole this joke from Twitter user @kbrissy who used it to describe Rudy Gay’s horrific shooting night back in November of 2013. I would’ve used his graphic to credit him, but it already had Rudy’s name attached.  I’m a thief.  I admit it.)

Kobe defiantly took over the all-time miss lead, having bricked 13,418 shots.  He did that by averaging 10.7 misses per game over his lengthy career.  Somehow, I love Kobe Bryant more when he’s shooting 7-20 and talking trash to little children on the sidelines.  Is it just me, or does the NBA need Kobe just as much as Kobe needs the NBA right now?

 Will Muschamp and Bo Pelini Get Canned

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Both Nebraska head coach Bo Pelini and his counterpart at Florida were fired in November.  Both have since taken jobs at places that seemed better suited to their personalities.  The fiery, disgusted-with-media Pelini will now be coaching at Youngstown State, where he should be out of the fishbowl of Lincoln, Nebraska.  Will Mushcamp will now go back to his lucrative career as a Bill Callahan body double.

Which finally brings us to. . .


Brady Hoke Gets Fired, Probably Can’t Hear the Announcement Because His Headset is Too Loud

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And now, a scene from my upcoming Broadway musical,  Up in Hoke


INTERIOR: A dark coach’s office.  There’s an empty box of Dunkin Doughnuts on a cluttered desk.  Up against one wall there is a series of bins for incoming mail.  A huge stack of mail pokes out of the bin labeled “Stuff that was actually supposed to be for Artie Lange.”  The “Fan Mail” slot is conspicuously empty and has cobwebs covering its entrance.  In a corner of the darkened office, Brady Hoke is feverishly struggling to open a wrapped box containing a Blue Tooth headset. 

Michigan interim Athletic Director, Jim Hackett, enters the room.

Startled by this intrusion, Hoke lets out a wild, panicked noise.  The sound that comes out can only be described as “Winnie the Pooh getting prison-shanked.”


He drops the box clumsily to the floor.

(Smiling evilly)
Sorry, Brady.  I didn’t mean to startle you.  Were you. . .busy?

(Fumbling over his words)
I—uh. . .I’m just working on.  Headset.  Look, I know you guys wanted me to wear a headset.  So I’m just. . .
(He trails off)

Hoke finally gets the box open and pulls out the headset.  Grinning, he puts the ear piece in and points to it jovially.

(Shaking his head)
Listen, Brady.  There’s no nice way to put this.  You’re fired.

I can’t hear you.  Because I’ve got the headset in.  See how bad they disrupt communication?  See?!?!

Brady, I know you can hear me—

It’s.  The.  Headset.  Too loud!


Chugging Beer and Running Hard, Not Just For College Students Running From the Cops Anymore

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The first ever Beer Mile World Championships were held in Austin this year.  I know what you’re thinking.  Finally a way to combine elite level athletes with heavy drinking.  About time.  (*Author’s note: What?!? Am I the only one who would love to watch phenomenal athletes compete in drinking games?  I highly doubt it.  Start posting Kobe’s beer pong games to YouTube, the NBA.  Please.)  It was captivating, finally getting to watch the athletes drink right along with the spectators.  For once, I wasn’t the only one chugging a beer and watching a sporting event.  The athletes were doing the same thing!  Audience participation!  Corey Gallagher, a chug-happy Canadian with an incredible ability to house beers after running long distances, won the inaugural event.  He was kind enough to give No Coast Bias an interview about his traning, his chugging, and whether or not he still has to pay for drinks.  What a wonderfully weird year.  I love 2014.

Ryan Leaf Gets Out of Prison, Walks Directly Into Your Nightmares

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What else needs to be said, really?  I’m going to try to stop my spine from convulsing with shivers and move on as quickly as I can.

Toronto Raptors Star Lou Williams is Dating Two Women. . .Who are Dating Each Other

Lou Williams Two Girlfriends

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A:LKJSD:FLKSW:LJEKHGFW:OLJ:QL#KJH@Q#:OHNWWOJNWOIEHJWQ#OTFRN#WLKJNW.  Reports have recently confirmed that Toronto guard Lou Williams is dating two women.  At the same time.  That are also dating each other.  You win, 2014.  You.  Win.

In conclusion

2014 definitely ranks as the second weirdest year ever.  It’s so close to weirdness champion, 2013, that they are practically dating the same dude.  And each other.  What an insane ride it’s been so far.  Chime in below, because I’m sure I missed some of the other weirdness the year had to offer.


Last year I went on record, declaring 2013 to be the weirdest sports year ever.  I firmly believe that that will continue to hold up.  But, damn, 2014 was a year for the record books, too.  If 2013 was Wilt Chamberlain’s 100-point game, then 2014 is definitely Kobe’s 81-pointer.

I stand by my statement that Dennis Rodman, international peace-keeper and Manti Te’o, international catfished-doofus wil always hold down 2013 as the weirdest year ever, but 2014 came hard for that number one spot.  Ladies and Gentleman of the jury, take a moment to stop live-tweeting events and let me present a month-by-month breakdown to you as to why 2014 was the second weirdest sports year in history.


Richard Sherman yells, internet panic ensues!

The 49ers and the Seattle Seahawks really don’t like each other.  When the two teams met on January 19th in the NFC Championship game, with the stakes at their highest and the lights at their brightest, one man somehow managed to single-handedly overshadow the entire game (*Author’s note: and a fantastic game, at that.)  After making the play of the game and potentially the play of the year, outspoken defensive back Richard Sherman had something to say to Erin Andrews in his post-game interview.

Yes, it was Richard Sherman, professional blow hard.  And he was blowing.  Hard.  He was blowing like Louis Armstrong in the middle of a wild solo at a packed Harlem Jazz club.  The craziest part? He probably deserved to have that reaction.  They shoved the mic into the face of a phenomenal shit-talker while he still had more adrenaline in his system than the post syringed-in-the-heart UMA Thurman in Pulp Fiction.  It was just a strange scene, seeing him howl into the microphone like a WWE Heel who just bodyslammed the good guy through a table.  Some hated it.  Some loved it.  Everyone had something to say about it.  2014 was picking right up where 2013 left off.  By being weird as hell.

Nine Year Old Stars on her High School’s Varsity Basketball Team

During January, video surfaced of a ridiculous nine-year-old girl, all 4’7” of her, crossing up and driving by her high school basketball competition.  It was Jaden Newman, the pint-sized University of Miami recruit, establishing dominance over girls twice her size and twice her age.  When I was 9-years-old I was getting crunk about dinosaurs, crushing Surge, and trying to figure out how to make a bounce pass.  The craziest part of this story?  This somehow ended up being only the second weirdest “Jaden” related story of 2014.

Peyton Manning Shouts Omaha, Omaha Immediately Demonstrates Why It Can’t Have Nice Things

This is video of Peyton Manning’s favorite audible call.  It’s the word “Omaha.”  The nation became obsessed with the call, and the fact that Peyton was repeating it more than Mike Jones shouting his name back in 2005.  But no one took more weird pleasure out of Peyton Manning’s favorite disc-skipping phrase than the city of Omaha, Nebraska.  The Omaha Chamber of Commerce, believing that Peyton’s checks at the line would be met with checks in their pockets, vowed to donate money to his charity should the Broncos signal-caller continue to use their name and all of Nebraska — having little else to do in January, other than sit inside while winter bore down on them like a ravenous predator — stumbled all over themselves to fawn over having their name mentioned by a celebrity like a blushing high schooler named “Jane” seeing a Maroon 5 concert.


Super Bowl XLVIII is XLVIII Times Worse Than Anyone Thought It Would Be

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We should’ve known that this game was doomed for unintentional comedy immediately after they had a pimp-coat wearing Joe Namath try to hijack the coin flip. The aforementioned Richard Sherman and Peyton Manning met up for Super Bowl XLVIII in a showdown, pitting the Broncos’ high-powered offense against the Seattle Seahwaks’ tough defense.  A Lamborghini and a Hummer going toe to toe with millions upon millions of eyes watching and breaths being held captive.  It was all Gone in 60 Seconds (*Author’s note: Hiiiiii-ooooh!) as the Broncos immediately botched their opening snap and proceeded to melt down into a steaming pile of high-def horse manure.  The game ended up being 43-8 and even Joe Buck’s commentary seemed exciting by comparison.  If you found yourself wishing that Beyoncé would show up and shut the power off on this one for a while to give your eyes a break from their corneal curb-stomping, you weren’t alone.  Thank goodness for the weed jokes, or this would’ve been a complete waste of time.

The Eyes of Costas Are Upon You

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In February, the Olympics swept across the sporting world.  Pomp.  Circumstance.  And creepy, zombie-eyed Bob Costas.  (*Author’s note: ever play that game, “One of these things is not like the other?”)  In an Olympics full of plot-lines – corrupt Russian officials, poor athlete conditions, Shaun White’s pasty ass going for a repeat – Costas’ raging eye infection stole the show.  It lead to a myriad of conspiracy theories on why the announcer looked so much like a stoned Mr. Peabody despite Bob’s insistence there was nothing malovelent about his eyes.  Here was my theory, centering around Costas and Shaun White working as XXX-Style secret operatives in Russia to try to take out Edward Snowden, written out as a screenplay.

And speaking of stoner-eyes at the Olympics. . .

Olympic Skiier Torin Yater- Wallace Takes Our Hearts (And Approximately 13 Quarter Pounders From McDonald’s)

Torin Yater-Wallace Is The Stoner-Philosopher Of The Olympics

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At the Olympics, McDonald’s is known to offer up free grub to the athletes.  They single handedly kept Jamaican sprinter Usain Bolt alive when he was eating 100 McNuggets a day in Beijing. They slap their corporate logo on anything they can get their Ronald-loving hands on.  And they provide the perfect eats for a clearly sticky-ickied up 18-year-old Olympian who’s looking for some major chow after blazing some Chron with the Russian ice dancer girls in an effort to get laid.

Marcus Smart Gives us Malice Jr.

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With Oklahoma State losing late in an early February game to lowly Texas Tech, one-time top-5 NBA lottery pick, Marcus Smart, became incensed by the taunting of a fat James Caan impersonator and went into the stands to give him a two-handed shove.  We don’t know exactly what was said, but we do know that any man who doesn’t wear an undershirt beneath his XXXL sized polo can’t be trusted.  Smart’s season continued to spiral downwards, getting suspended for his transgressions and slipping down in the draft after an inconsistent year with an under-achieving Cowboys team.  (*Author’s note: the best part about this GIF? The lady on Faux-Caan’s left.  She can’t stop pointing her finger.  She points at Smart like she just fingered a mob boss for the prosecution in court on a soap opera.  Outstanding.)

David Stern Retires

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Although few believed this grizzled veteran commissioner would ever relinquish his iron-fisted rule over the NBA, at least not until he was 6-feet under the soil in a posh, cozy coffin, NBA Commish Stern willingly ceded his position atop the Iron Throne to his next-in-line apprentice, Adam Silver.  Was this a case of game recognizing game?  Was Stern such a big fan of the way Silver handled the “Targaryen Deal” that he felt compelled to promote him up to take charge of the league?  (*Author’s note: If you’re unfamiliar with Adam Silver’s biggest business transaction as liutenant to Stern, see the below picture).

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Wichita State Continues Their Miraculous Run, Then Promptly Gets Screwed by NCAA Tournament Selection Committee

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Wichita State’s undefeated season was one of the single most fascinating subplots of the 2013-2014 College Basketball season.  An unlikely story, this band of permanently underrated players from the middle of the country somehow continuing to win and win some more, that planted itself somewhere between Thunderstruck and Like Mike on my BBI (*Author’s note: Basketball Believability Index).  But the weirdest part of all?  Somehow they got seed-screwed into playing Kentucky in the second round.  Because, weirder still, was the fact that Kentucky was an eight seed.  A MOTHER-FING EIGHT SEED.  KENTUCKY?!?!  However, it ended up being the game of the year, with the Wildcats prevailing down the stretch in spite of both Harrison twins somehow reminding me of LeVar Burton.

Oregon Proudly Introduces Their “Newest Recruit”, Celebrating by Cramming Him Into Their Extra Schmedium Sized Jersey 

. . .as if Bill Cosby’s year could get any creepier, right?  J-E-L-L-Nooooooo!  You might want to do a background check on this “new recruit” before you let him on campus.  Also, please make sure he’s in the all-male dormitory.  Please.

Mongolian Sumo Wrestler Kakuryū Rikisaburō is promoted to yokozuna

Look, March was kind of a slow month, okay?

Minor League Baseball Team, The Kalamazoo Growlers, Announce They’ll Wear “Selfie Jerseys”

A really slow month.  The Jerseys, which debuted in July were probably the most obnoxious uniforms I’ve ever seen.  When a pitch came in high and tight and the manager shouted “Duck!”  everyone just assumed he was talking about the girl pursing her lips to look like waterfowl on the batter’s left sleeve.  (*Author’s note: Alright, so maybe I made that last part up.)


 Former Florida Atlantic Coach, and Older Brother to Recently-Fired Nebraska Head Coach, Carl Pelini is Shopping a Book


Yes.  Apparently Carl hasn’t only been rolling papers and smoking them.  He’s been penning a novel.  Not just a memoir or a sordid tell-all.  This is fiction.  Will it be straight Gonzo, drug-fueled insanity like Hunter S. Thompson?  Will it be tweenage angst wrapped up in the loving embrace of high school football?  Or will it be about a crazed, revenge-seeking egomaniac hellbent on getting his own white whale?  Watch out, Shawn Eichorst.

Donald Sterling Proves to be Exactly as Horrible as We All Thought

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This April audio came out from Donald Sterling, released by his vulpine-faced mistress V. Stiviano, in which the Los Angeles Clippers owner basically went on a racist tirade that sounded like leftover dialogue for Leonardo DiCaprio in Django Unchained.  Sterling’s awful audio immediately put new-commissioner Adam Silver in the hot seat and the league’s new head honcho didn’t hesitate to drop the hammer, banning Sterling for life from any NBA activity.  Silver delivered a message and it was clear that the NBA wanted Sterling to give up his franchise.  As per usual, the cantankerous curmudgeon tried to sue his way out of things, but eventually folded and the team was later purchased ba kajillionaire Steve Ballmer.  Do I really think Sterling won’t try to sneak in to make racist jokes at the Staples Center with an underaged floozy?  No way.  Here’s a few of the disguises I predicted he would try to use to get in and watch the team.


Northwestern Football Attempts to Unionize, Immediately Confuses Idiots Like Me
(*Author’s note: but luckily for you, I’ve created this handy flowchart to help you figure out how all the legal proceedings would go.)


I literally think that chart is the closest I came to making sense of the whole thing.  A college football team trying to unionize?  2014 for ‘ya.  The only thing that could’ve made it weirder would’ve been if they picked Derek Fisher to be in charge of the whole thing and he did next to nothing for them.


The NFL Draft Gets Weird, 2014 Style

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Johnny F. Heisman Football slipped down the draftboard after an offseason spent partying with rolled up $20 bills in Las Vegas bathrooms, dropping to #22 and to the Cleveland Browns.  An undersized, hard-partying QB slipping down draftboards isn’t weird.  What is?  The he apparently text the Browns GM and told him to “hurry up and draft me.”  I speculated about who else might be texting the Browns on Draft Night, too.  Another highly-touted QB experienced his own free fall, with the Vikings selecting Teddy Bridgewater with the final pick of the first round.  Needless to say, it was the worst night for Teddys, Bridges, and Water since Chappaquiddick in 1969.  South Carolina’s JaDeveon Clowney went first overall and promptly did nothing in his rookie year (being injured virtually the entire year).  How typically 2014 of you, the NFL Draft.

Diego Costa Whispers to Horses, Asks to Borrow Their Placentas

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Yeah.  This headline alone is enough to make you gag.  I understand that.  However, when Atletico Madrid striker Diego Costa tore his hamstring this April those wacky Europeans decided that instead of heating, icing and Ibuprofen, they would try something a little. . .different.  So, utilizing an Island of Dr. Moreau sounding therapy, involving electro-shock and horse placenta ointment, Costa went in for treatment.  If anyone needs me, I’ll be the guy rushing to the bathroom for a good old fashioned dry-heave.

Somebody Get Me A Starter Jacket: The Charlotte Hornets Are Back, Baby!

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Unforunately, Mugsy and Larry Johnson aren’t on the bench anymore.  But the Charlotte Bobcats finally caved in to the massive demand of all the ’90s enthusiasts like myself and re-branded back to their God-intended franchise name: The Hornets.  So as I sip my Amazon-ordered Surge, smashing on my French Toast Crunch while wearing my snap-back hat and listening to a bunch of boy bands on the radio, I can also watch the Charlotte Hornets get after it on the court.  The 90’s are back, son!  Somebody get me a Warhead and turn up the Will Smith songs!

50 Cent’s First Pitch, Worth Approximately A Quarter

Speaking of Nostalgia: remember 50 Cent?  He’s still around.  And apparently all those curls he was doing at the gym during his In Da Club music video shoot didn’t translate well to his 2-seam fastball.  Here he comes with what many are arguing is the worst first pitch in history.  The sad part?  The Chicago Cubs probably tried to offer him a contract immediately after this toss.  “G-g-g-g-g-g-get the hell out of the way!”

Nebraska Linebacker Josh Banderas Steals a Whole Peloton of Bikes

University of Nebraska Linebacker Josh Banderas was arrested with a pickup full of stolen bikes in May.  Why?  Reducing his carbon footprint?  An inescapable urge to juice up and become the next Lance Armstrong?  Who the hell knows.  The above photo is my best guess as to what he was planning on doing with a bevy of hijacked Huffys.


Luis Suárez Goes Hannibal Lecter at the 2014 FIFA World Cup

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So, in 2014 the World Cup was back on the scene.  It was fantastic.  There was weirdness all over the place.  From Brazilian governmental conspiracies to a hilarious pump-up speech from Will Ferrell and Teddy Goalsevelt.  From the US somehow managing to escape the Group of Death, to a bizarre wasting of US Goalie Tim Howard’s game for the ages.  It was all outstanding, fascinating, and very strange.  However, no story topped the flesh-eating zombie known as Luis Suárez and his diabolical dentures.  Suárez, the hyper-talented Uruguayan national team striker, ignored the billions of eyes that were watching and just couldn’t help himself from gnawing on the shoulder of Italian player Giorgio Chiellini.  He was suspended 4 months for what turned out to be the latest in a long line of attempted cannibalism.  Plenty of time for him to enjoy some Fava Beans and a nice Chianti.

The AC Goes Out, LBJ Goes Down

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In game one of the NBA Finals, the air conditioning went out in the AT&T Center in San Antonion, Texas.  What happened next was a Twitter dogpile on LeBron James, as they oft-criticized Miami Heat star cramped up and had to limp off the court, watching the game from the sidelines in pain.  Was it Greg Popovich, pulling the ultimate mind-trick?  Was known sporting-event-power-surger Beyoncé in the building with Hova to watch the game?  Was LeBron shrinking in another huge moment  (*Author’s note: an unfair rap, in my opinion, even though I love to hate on LeBron.) or was this simply a case of electrical malfunction at the exact wrong time?  We may never know.  But it was certainly weird.  Also: nice work on keeping LeBron hydrated, Powerade.  (*Author’s note: ironically enough?  They’re called “drops.”)

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NCAA Track and Field Championships Reveal One True Winner for the First Half of the Sports Year

Whoever that dude is with a Hello Kitty calf tat and big enough stones to wear shorts at a nationally televised event.

Stay tuned for Part II of NCB’s 2014 Sports year in review.


After a long off-season with some insane storylines: (*Author’s note: Bron-Bron goes back to Cleveland, Phil takes the helm in NYC, Kobe and Derrick Rose prepare for their returns, and the Cavaliers prove that they are the NBA equivalent to Meatloaf and will do anything for Love.) the NBA season has finally arrived.  I’m sure, if you’re a hoophead like me, you’ve already pored over a 20 or more previews and watched as dozens of talking heads asked “The Important Questions” about this upcoming NBA season.

So I decided I’d take a little more outside the box approach.  I’d take a look at five storylines that may or may not be flying underneath the radar and investigate them.  Here are 5 questions that simply must be asked before the NBA season goes into day 2.

1.  Whose hair will get talked about the most in Cleveland: LeBron James or Anderson Varejao?

Anderson Varejao has come strong with his token-black-guy-in-High-School-Musical hair for the past few seasons.  Does it kind of look like the Brazilian hair version of the confetti that comes out of those toy champagne-poppers that people bust out for New Year’s Eve?  Yeah.  Does it flop oh-so-gloriously, like Pau Gasol trying to draw a charge in the low block?  Definitely.  Varejao’s stat line usually includes a triple double when he’s playing: points, rebounds, and times spent tossing his hair like model doing a “wind-blown” look in front of a power fan.

LeBron’s hair, like everything else about LeBron James, was highly scrutinized this offseason.  If you think about LeBron’s hair like a Civil War battlefield (*Author’s note: you know, like a normal person) it seemed like the front lines of LeBron’s hair were gradually ceding precious ground to the inevitable reverse Kareem-ing that seemed to be happening.  The head band on his dome kept moving back, gradually sliding towards making him look like he was wearing an NBA yarmulke that came with the sun roof option.  But for a brief moment this year, Bron-Bron called for reinforcements.

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He got hair plugs.  His hairline made a dramatic, suicide charge, that had Twitter imploding in on itself like a dying supernova as LeBron suddenly looked like a new man.  But then?  Just like that: poof.  The new hair was gone again.  It had Nightcrawler’d (*Author’s note: the character from X-Men, not Jake Gyllenhall) out of the picture, teleporting off of LeBron’s dome.  Did he unplug like a rapper doing an acoustic set on MTV?  Had the Twitter backlash driven his new follicles to a full-on retreat?  We may never know.  But it’ll be something that’s totally worth watching.

2.  Where will Kobe hide the body of Swaggy P after he inevitably murders him?

That the situation in LA is a mess is hardly a secret.  I’m not sure if they’ve already copyrighted the term, “Blunderbuss” to describe how great Jerry’s son Jimmy has done running the franchise, but if they haven’t I’m going to send off a quick e-mail to the US Patent Office.  What will make a disgustingly unwatchable Lakers team infinitely more watchable this year?  The fact that Kobe Bryant is back.

And not only is Kobe back, but he’s in full on crotchety old man, I-don’t-give-a-fuck-because-I’m-a-veterans-veteran and make Rip van Winkle look like a rookie, mode.  So what happens when Kobe, and all his mamba-venom, run into Swaggy P and all his long-two-point-jacking bravado?  It could get ugly.  Since Swaggy P is essentially a 3rd-world-poor man’s Kobe and he has become a pseudo-celeb based on the fact that he’s dating Iggy Azalea, it could lead to a fascinating power struggle.


Photo Courtesy of: I’m sure you can tell I just crappily photoshopped this myself.

But let’s be honest: the struggle won’t last long.  We all know that Kobe’s competitiveness borders on homicidal.  So when he ends up drowning Swaggy P in the training room cold tub, after the Swagster goes 4-19 from the field at some point this year, the question will be this: where will Kobe stash his body?

4 Potential hiding places:

  • Wherever Jim Buss hides all of his “mistakes.”
    • A dude like Jimmy Buss isn’t going to live a completely clean life.  That much we can rightly assume.  So what do his “handlers” do when the Blunderbuss fires off an errant round and they need to dispose of the evidence?  I’m sure they have a secret passageway underneath the Staples center to spirit out bodies.  And we know Kobe would have access to these.
  • Smush Parker’s house.
    • Kobe and Smush have had a simmering, sometimes boiling, feud. And what better way for psycho-Kobe to exact his revenge (*Author’s note: other than, you know, just having no one else on the planet give a damn about Smush Parker – which has already happened.) than by a classic Hollywood Noir frame-job.
  • The Medieval German Castle Dungeon Laboratory where Kobe gets his strange knee injections.
  • Donald Sterling’s basement.
    • Because everyone would just assume Sterling did it.  I know I would.

3.  Will the 76ers play so bad that we retro-actively are declared the losers of the Revolutionary War and we have to give back thirteen states to Great Britain?

There’s a legitimate chance.  Have you seen their lineup? It’s a crew so Motley that Tommy Lee should be playing the drums.  They’ve got guys you’ve never heard of.  Young dudes who have names you can’t pronounce.  Michael Carter-Williams is their best player and he has a name like a serial killer and shoots 40% from the field.  While the team has a few young pieces with some upside, they appear to be doomed to another season so far at the bottom of the standings that they’re somewhere below the Earth’s crust.  The one bonus? Nerlens Noel, rocking a flat top the size of a small mountain peak on his dome.  (*Author’s note: and that’s trying really hard for a silver lining.)

4.  Will Chris Bosh continue his slow metamorphosis into a Velociraptor before our very eyes?


(*Author’s note: It’s time for you to start lining up your Jurassic World jokes, Twitter.  The season is back, the next installment of the Jurassic Park franchise is off and running, and Chris Bosh is probably going to continue Chris Boshing his way around the court.  Personally, I don’t know if the Heat will let Bosh have enough time off from the team to finish shooting his scenes as a stunt double for the velociraptors, and that could lead to some conflict.  Get.  Your.  Popcorn. Ready.)

5.  Will reigning technical foul king Boogie Cousins get out-teched by Larry Sanders?

Boogie seems to have troubles with the refs.  I’m not sure if this stems from the fact that he’s a post player who consistently thinks he’s getting hacked (*Author’s note: a hallmark of good NBA post players is their insistence that they’re being fouled and their willingness to get T-ed up for it. Hell, even not-good NBA post players get a lot of techs.  See: Perkins, Kendrick.) or if he’s just got a lousy attitude, but whatever the reason, Boogs has lead the league in techs for 2 straight seasons and finished second 3 years ago to the aforementioned king of posturing/scowling, Perkins.

But someone is coming for Boogie’s belt.  Someone equally tatted and equally trialed-and-tribulated by the officiating community.  Someone who once racked up a whopping 14 T’s of his own 2 seasons ago in a mere 71 games and who will be an what appears to be a super frustrating scenario buried in the frozen tundra of Milwaukee.  That’s right, baby!  I’m talking about none other than Larry F-ing Sanders!  If you doubt Mr. Sander’s ref-taunting technique, or don’t think anyone can hang with Boogie’s panache in the ref-flouting business: ladies and gentleman of the jury, please let me submit to you my favorite ejection of all time not involving an NBA fist fight.

Gif Provided via and, apparently @wiz_spurtin

It’s that time of year.  When we’ve already had our Mid-Season classic.  We’ve already pretended to give a damn about Rory and a toothless Tiger finishing an ironic 69th at The British Open.  The World Cup has reached a conclusion and now we’re left to bitterly choke down the flavorless tonic of mid-season baseball while we wait for the football-hued light at the end of Summer’s tunnel.  In short: it’s time to pause and honor some of the sportingest sporters of the last sports year.

Sure ESPN has billions of dollars and a touching speech from a real journalist.  But this is also the time of year for another time-honored sports tradition: The 5th Annual Hatchspys.

We don’t give out many of the prestigious awards, but these highly coveted honors do give us yet another chance to care a little bit too much about sports.  Just the way I like it.  Without further ado, here are your 2014 Hatchspy award winners.


Plot Twist of the Year: LeBrontourage, Season 11


LeBrontourage has been a great show so far.  There was the title character’s promising start to his career, storming into the league with a ready-made NBA game, there was the inevitable fall from grace – collapsing under the weight of too-high expectations and a PR team with less brains than a zombie-eaten victim – and now the glorious return of the prodigal son.  It couldn’t have been scripted better by HBO’s Doug Ellin.  (*Author’s note: upon further IMDB’ing I discovered that not only did Doug E. fresh produce one of my favorite college-years shows, he also wrote the script for Phat Beach.  Do you hear that?  That’s the sound of my head being exploded by IMDB’s knowledge dynamite!)


The Assist of the Year Award: V. Stiviano

As much as it makes my skin crawl to give anything to V. Stiviano, we’ve got to hand it to her: she out-sleazed a sleaze and assisted in taking down one of the grimiest, racist-iest bags of douche since Marge Schott was getting a little too creepily excited over seeing a pitcher have 3 strikeouts in a row (Author’s note: KKK, anyone?).  It took a woman to give the NBA the opportunity or, dare I say, the balls to finally pull the trigger on getting rid of an owner who should’ve been left in the ‘80s with Duran Duran and  Members Only jackets.  What do you give to a woman with a stage-name that sounds like a venereal disease from the Civil War and a face that looks like it was designed by cat-scientists hell bent on cross-breeding with humans?  Give her what she wants most in life: another rich old per. . .and another visor.


Star whose name most sounds like a Harry Potter spell: Shabazz Napier


Now if only Harry could get Hogwarts to take their Quidditch players off of those NCAA meal plans.


Coach getting canned whose catchphrase was suddenly hilarious: Mark Jackson


“Mama, there goes that man.”  “Hand down. . .man down.”  It’s like Mark Jackson wrote all the terrible jokes himself.  That sure didn’t stop literally everyone with a Twitter account from firing off their best 140 character attempts at comedy. (*Author’s note: myself included.)  More than likely his new personal slogan has something to do with Joe Lacob.  And I’m guessing it’s not as happy-go-lucky as “Hand down. . .man down”


Most confusing sports story for dummies like me: Northwestern Unionizing

The good news is: I created an easy to follow flow chart to help clear things up.  Fear not, dumb sports fans.  I’ve got you covered.


Damn it.  That escalated quickly.  Turns out, I might not have as good of a handle on the whole “unionization of student-athletes” thing as I thought.  The good news is, it’s such a boring topic that you probably fell asleep before I got through the second part of that easy-to-use flow chart.


Most fun game attended: Nebraska V.S. Wisconsin

I’m not talking about the Huskers V.S. the Badgers on the field.  I’m talking about the game that took place on the court.

When the highly ranked Badgers came rolling into Lincoln Nebraska on March 9th to take on the suddenly-highly-relevant Nebraska Cornhuskers I knew it would be a big game.  The Huskers were on the precipice of the apex of the vortex of the madness.  We were, too fall too easily into the clichéd old saying, “On the bubble.”  It was a fascinating, precarious, self-doubting place.

The fascinating, hard-scrapping, team was there on the bubble.  The magnetic, frenetically energetic, Coach, Tim Miles, was there.  We were there.  And when a Husker team turns from “them” to “us” and from “they” to “we” it is truly a sight to behold.  The momentum for this particular game had been building, felt-tipped-drum-rolling, since the Huskers had pulled off a shocking upset of Michigan State on the road in mid-February.  That slow-simmering heat was ramped up into a flame-thrower of pent up angst, combusting years and years of ineptitude into a massive upswell in interest.

It all came to head as the Badgers found themselves battling against the team and a raucous crowd that had jammed themselves shoulder to shoulder, heart to heart, in an arena so packed it would have given a fire marshal heart palpitations.

The Huskers came out ahead.  Somehow, someway.  Taking all the “Maybe someday”s of so many dreary years to the full-blown, explosive immediacy of “we did it.”  Was it a championship?  No.  Did it launch us into a breathtaking win in the NCAA tournament?  Nope.

Did it absolutely feel like Nebraska turned a corner as a fanbase and a program and that we were going to sprint away from the shadows of that corner with all the haste of Blue-blazing-hellfire?  Definitely.  We’ll see what happens.  But it was, without a doubt, the game of the year for me.


Fashionista of the year: Johnny Rodgers


We all know I’m not a fashionable dude.  I still openly root for skinny jeans to cut off hipster leg-circulation to the point of amputation.  I am not a fan of bow ties on anyone other than my 2-year-old son.  But what I can get behind, fashion-wise, is something that is unanimously believed to be a gigantic steaming pile of fashion-trainwreck.  That was Johnny Rodgers at the Heisman ceremony.  (*Author’s note: the lady above summed up my feelings for Rodgers’ outfit quite well, actually.

Johnny came out in what I all the fashion blogs were referring to as “Bjorkback Mountain”, combining the sheer insanity of Bjork and the rugged ocular homicide of cocaine cowboy crashlanding onto a murderously blood red coat.  Man, woman, and child. . .did that put ’em in the aisles.