Weekend Sack-Up: I think DeMarco Sampson is still wide open

Somethings are better off not witnessed, like a murder or cakefarts (search it, I dare you. Thanks, btw, Ben Pollock for showing me this), and the second half of the CSU game Saturday was similar. I am glad I got to miss it, due to work.

Unfortunately, I was in proximity to a radio and after taking hours to figure out how it worked again (I must fiddle this nob and guess the station? What the fuck is an AM? Damn you magic music box!) I was able to listen to the final three quarters of the game. Yippee. Guess what is worse than witnessing someone getting stabbed to death? Just getting to listen to their screams. I wasn't there, and I am less afraid to ever watch any internet video suggested by a friend than to watch my Tivo'd recording of the game, but just by listening I can tell just how open DeMarco Sampson was. More open than than your favorite pornstar's orfices after TVTATM penetration. More open than the Goatse' asshole (again, I dare you). More open than IHOP. More open than the range.

Wide. Fucking. Open.

Oh well, I will address this game more in my Air Force preview (after I force myself to watch the game), but certainly the Rams pretty much need to upset Air Force if they want to have a successful (read: bowl) season. I don't think we will win our final three after losing six straight.

CSU aside, there were a few pleasant surprises this weekend. Let's look at those:

-The Avalanche are fucking awesome. Yes it early, and the hockey season is almost stupidly long (82 games, plus an early start due to the Olympics), but after 11 games the Avs lead the league with 18 points. This was supposed to be a rebuilding season, but behind stellar play from goalie Craig "Mr. Anderson" (an American, fuck yeah) the Burgundy and Blue are killing it this season.

Most importantly, the Avs have beaten the Gotdamn Red Wings twice, which is always nice. They are a fun team to watch play, attacking all over and featuring a ton of young players that are a blast to watch.

I am convinced that when Joe Sakic came to Nordiques, the front office cloned him and created someone to replace him when he retired. His name is Matt Duchene. And he is awesome. He hasn't scored much, only one goal and five assists, but this kid will soon be a star in Colorado, and would be around the nation if the NHL would promote him as much as that dead piece of wood Sidney Crosby. I really can't see wait to see how good he will be once he starts rolling and really learns the game. Becasue he is only 18. When I was 18 I was blacking out while drinking vodka every night. Now, I'm 23 and I only black out drinking vodka once a week. See, progress.

(I don't get the Crosby hype by the league. He is good, but Alex Ovechkin is the player for the NHL to market. He is flashy, hilarious, a leader, entertaining, goofy. He scores highlight-quality goals all the time. Crosby is a winner, but this is like the NBA marketing Tim Duncan all over the place to hype the league while putting LeBron on the backburner "until he becomes a winner." This is why the NHL struggles, they can't market their stars effectively. The product on the ice is great right now. Exciting hockey, limited commercials. There are fights but less of the thuggish play. Now make sure I see commercials with Overchkin scoring amaizing goals (maybe in slow motion with classical music like this, but instead an Iso camera on Overchkin...Chills. Seriously, just rip the NBA off) and then some where Ovi gets to show off his humor. Hockey players, most of them, are funny and would connect with an audience. Crosby isn't one, don't shove him down my throat)

While Duchene will be the Avs new star, his fellow rookie Ryan O'Rielly is actually out-performing him. Two guys, at 18-years old, leading a team on a remarkable turnaround. This would be huge news anywhere, but after one or two down seasons (and that pesky strike), fans and the Colorado media have forgotten about the Avalanche. Well wake the fuck up. The games are on Altitude, same channel as the Nuggs, and yes it is a whole new bunch of guys on the team since they won a cup, but that is how time works. People get old, and new guys replace them. You know that whole Denver Broncos story that everyone is getting a boner for, this Avs story is even more unlikely.

-The Nuggets are about to start. I thought they started last week. I was wrong. I am glad, because my preview was/is far from ready. I only have a picture of JR Smith. And not even a funny one implying he was cellmates with Plaxico or T.I.

They met up with the Lakers (in San Diego, which was news to me) and the two got physical. Apparently keeping up with the ugliest Kardashian is grating on Lamar Odom's nerves or maybe Birdman Andersen just stole some of Ole' Sweet Tooth's candy. Who knows, but I do know that K-Mart don't miss no trash-talking party. "FUCK YOU, ODOM! ASK KLHOE HOW MY ASS CANDY TASTE!" Too bad Dahntay Jones isn't around to battle Kobe any more. We need another expendable guy to get into a fight with him. Maybe that is Joey Graham's purpose?


-Jay Cutler continues to suck. Tossing up turnovers like a bakery. Yeah, I know El Neckbeard was lucky to beat Cincinnati, but did you even try to hold onto the football? Did you have too much SULK on your hands to throw it? I am pretty sure the Bears might want to trade you for JaMarcus. Or maybe you for the hot dog Mark Sanchez ate would be good. Fuck me, AJ probably just spent a grand at the titty bar because you depressed him so much.

I forgot to do a 6-0 picture last week, but it still rings true during the bye. Here we go:

Try #2:

Try #3: 

Well, last time the Broncos were 6-0 was in 1998. And Bubby did play a shitload in 1998 when ElwayGod suffered an injured bicep throwing thunderbolts vs. the Nomadic Raiders. 

-CU lost to Kansas State. Air Force came close vs. Utah. College football in Colorado is awesome.


-Yankees vs. Phillies. I am very glad that I don't have to hear from Angels or Doyer fans. Fuck you both. In this World Series I am rooting for rain and clouds of locust.

-In bouncing news, Phil Mickelson partied it up at my club on Thursday night. I was blissfully unaware, as I rarely pay attention to old, rich, white dudes in the club. They aren't really the troublemakers, yaknow.

On Sat. some fool from Digital Underground, Shock G, of 'Humpty Dance' fame sang a few songs. One of his entourage tried to sell me weed. I politely declined.

I also love getting to stay up until five or six in the morning and not feeling like a waste of space. Last week Boyle woke up to go to work at like 5:45 and I was up drinking a beer and watching '30 Rock.' Bet he felt like a waste of ass going to work, while I slept.

Failure? I also introduced myself to everyone by blacking out on Grey Goose at the Hard Rock, dancing with some very attractive cocktail waitresses, chugging vodka instead of champagne later and getting asked to leave the club. Allegedly. My boss did say he was impressed that I was not an angry drunk, so I've got that going for me.

I remember none of this, but Mandie did think I was a hobo when I returned home at about 1:30 and couldn't figure out how to get the gate open, shouting in failure every time I dropped my keys. This is why I am forcing myself to drink a few beers every night when I get off work, the tolerance level must rise. I think I am now at senior year of high school tolerance, and that is not a good place with a Vegas trip in two weeks.

Pregaming Analysis: SDSU. Where we discuss the art and science of the shotgun

I probably won't have any real pregame analysis of any upcoming CSU game since I usually don't even get to watch them live anymore and would just rehash what is said in the newspaper, so I will stick with what I know.And while I won't bring you pregame analysis, I will bring you Pregaming Analysis. I stumbled upon this topic while discussing my hatred of Utah's archaic liquor laws in an earlier preview, and I like where that went.

Tailgating is awesome. I don't really need to tell anyone that, but it feels good to say it. It is one of the few times in life that you can drink a beer and feel no regret for tossing it on the ground, haphazardly. You know why? Because they make the drunks and perverts who need to perform community service clean it up the next day. Nothing rubs it in those assholes' faces like having to pick up thousands of empty, crushed Keystone Light cans, when they aren't allowed to even take a sip. Irony, Atlanis Morrissette-stlye, even if that is not irony.

Anyway, I fancy myself a bit of an expert at tailgating, having progressed from the kid who passes out midway through the Nevada game in my youth (story to come week) to the 23-year-old that still managed to be "the drunkest person on the field," according the Trevor Edy, after we rushed the field against CU. Okay, that may not look like a lot of progress, but during the CU game I was drinking the whole time to keep that buzz up and remember everything, while the Nevada game is one big blur of me falling down.

My secret, is to avoid hard alcohol and focus on pounding as much beer, as quickly as possible. The best way to do this, of course is the beer IV, but I can never find my veins with the needle. So instead I resort to my second favorite technique, THE SHOTGUN.

Yes, what a beautiful way to drink a beer. "NO thank you Pete Coors. I do not want to taste your swill or drink out of your fancy, new-fangled pull-tab. I want to stab this metal, sharp object with another metal, sharp object and then place my lips on a metal, sharp hole in order to make it shoot this alcohol straight into my throat. WHOOOO!"

What are the options. Simply chugging from the can takes far too long. I would guess 10 seconds or more at least.

Actually, we interrupt this blog for a quick episode of the popular discovery channel show, Mythbusters. In the name of science (and boredom and my new goal to raise my tolerance back to semi-college levels from the tity-drugger where I currently reside), I will now test this theory.

Shotgunning: 10 seconds to pierce can and make sure I don't spill all over the room, 3 seconds to chug. Total=13 seconds.

Chugging:  1 second to crack, 28 second to chug. Total=29 seconds. 


Conclusion: While the shotgun took a little longer to prep for, I was able to drink it at almost six times the speed. Impressive. Also, the prep time to shotgun would go down significantly if I wasn't sitting in front of my computer, but in a parking lot unconcerned by spray (but as I will teach later, spray can be avoided if you are smart). So, in a perfect world, I could shotgun about 3 beers in the same time as I could chug one. Don't need to be a Josh McDaniels math major to understand that one.

P.S. Anyone who believes that I wouldn't really do this, doesn't know me at all, but here are some pics. Best part, 'Born in the USA' by Springsteen came on while I was doing my testing. Bawse:

Well, now that we understand just how awesome, and how much quicker, shotgunning is, I think that we should get into the how exactly to go about the shotgun.

You might be saying, Sack, you have shotgunned a beer with every person who will ever have the misfortune to check out this site, you don't need to tell us how to do it. Guess what? That is a valid point, but I write this blog for the hypothetical blog scouts that might stumble upon it and sign me to a big-ass blog deal.

This video does a pretty good job of explaining it, minus the pussy, "you might die from this" safety warning. (Warning: If you drink beer responsibly, you could die from being a complete pussy. Who wants that?)

I also disagree with some other issues in this video.

-Very poor hole-stabbing technique ("That's what she said."). The best way to shotgun was first introduced to me by Sam Horwitz, a person I am beginning to think I invented in my head so I could pretend I knew a Jewish person. Anyway, he showed me during Thanksgiving Break freshman year how to create the puncture hole in the bottom of the can with your finger. You just turn the can over, turn the can back towards right-side-up,  locate the air bubble as it moves up the can, and jam your finger in. Should work like a charm (This guy shows you how). It doesn't always. In fact, often after I first learned this trick I would end up slicing my finger open. Ooops. At least alcohol kills all the germs.

-Use a key, not a knife. Now, I have simplified this approach, as I turn over the can, wait for the air bubble and puncture the can with my parent's house key. I think a key works better than a finger, and is certainly safer than a knife, but both work. Just apply steady pressure with a key after you have located the air bubble in the can, don't stab. Plus it reminds me of home.

Sure you can always stab beers alone or race a couple friends, but the only way to really get the full tailgate expirience is through the the BRO-GUN: It is the most common shotgun. A bunch of guys, hyped up, screaming, probably wearing body paint. They are gonna shotgun, they are going to peer pressure you into it, and if you are being a pussy and don't do it, you will watch and be impressed by them, because they have made this shotgun the center of attention for your parking row.

There isn't all whole lot of technique to the Bro, it is a smash-and-grab shotgun. It begins with a primal yell of "SHOTGUN. C'MON." Everyone grabs a beer, circles up, and takes turns stabbing their beer, often creating a fairly impressive spray, perhaps giving themselves or someone nearby a facial.

Everyone in the circle then has a "cheers" in the middle, yell something unintelligible and then powers down some Keystone at their own pace. Except, being Bros, everything is a little bit of a competition, so as soon as one person finishes their beer and chucks it to the ground, everyone picks up their pace to not look like a queer. But don't abandon your effort too soon, or else everyone will mock you for wasting beer, like a queer. It is a cruel cycle.


FAILGATES: I did not initially grasp the art of the shotgun, as before freshman year I still got confused exactly which hole was which (Wait, that may have been a different type of fail altogether?). At a party at my friend Mo's house once, while in a BRO-GUN, I accidentally turned my beer upside-down and opened the tab.

A great shotgun gone wrong occurred before the UNLV game last season. My parents were in town to tailgate and I also decided this was the perfect week to paint my body green and gold, as I had promised my friend Dusty I would do it. So right before painting ourselves green, my roommate Cheney and I also made Dusty honor his end of the deal, to shotgun a beer with us. But not just any beer, a tall boy PBR. Yes, 24 oz. of wonderful, 'Steak-in-a-can,' Blue Ribbon excellence.

A regular shotgun creates some apprehension, knowing that all that foam might fuck up your stomach's world, but a big-ass Pibber is a whole 'nother story. But being a true Bro and friend, Dusty stepped up to help Nate and I continue our good-luck stomach punishing.

And damnit if the bastard didn't kick our asses. Finishing probably 5 seconds ahead of me and not even taking a breath-pause, which I needed.

Still, almost as soon as he finished, he was bent over at the waist, struggling to breathe. And that was the day that Dusty puked in front of my parents, while I got drunk and painted myself green and gold. Welcome to CSU, family. I do have to give him props, because Dusty did rally.

Another great story involves my boy Fancy somehow puncturing his beer so poorly he swallowed some metal during his shotgun and had to force himself to vomit a piece of can up later. He is a special child.

(By the way, if anyone has any good Failgate stories of their own or wishes to remind me of one of my own that I forgot, please leave comments, e-mail or Facebook me)



Game analysis: Somehow SDSU has beaten CSU in blizzards several times in our history, so let's all hope for good weather.

And if we lose, I'm going to walk through my parking garage and break every single car window with a SDSU sticker, and there are a lot. No one wants to see that happen.

I don't know anything else, other than it is now 4:30a.m. and I am down 10 Natty Lights, so god bless and go Rams.

The Weekend Sack-Up (cuz it rhymes with wrap up)...

That was a very eventful weekend folks. I now have a consistent job, a part-time job and am actually starting to feel comfortable that I live in California, which in turn scares that crap out of me (I can actively feel myself getting worse at driving). Additionally, it was again an up-and-down weekend as far as sports go. Broncos keep kicking ass and taking names, Rams did the complete opposite of that.

Plus, my sister got to go to the Broncos game, after some dude hooked her up with a ticket. She was handing out ribbons to raise breast cancer awareness inside the stadium, but still, no one hooked me up with a ticket as I sat on my couch scratching my sack raising my own awareness about testicular cancer. Homeboy gave away about $1200 dollars worth of tickets to my sister and her friends. What a dick. /jealousy

Broncos vs. ReChargers with pretty PICTURES, so you bitches don't have to read:

First, I stole Ben Pollock's Facebook update for that picture up top, because it summed the game up best. An exact quote, exclamation points (!!!) and everything. Suck on that reporting, Adam Schefter.

-Yes, more Marmalard douchiness:

-Not so awesome without a running game. Somehow, the MNF guys continued to give this doucheknucke props for being oblivious to the pass rush, as if that was a good thing. Probably was, until Mr. Oblivious had a halftime snack of Butterfingers, dropping the ball all over the place as Elvis and the boys ate his lunch, told him it sucked and savaged him.

You know how girls, when they are trying to squash a bug with a Kleanex and don't quite kill it so it is still squirming, kind of jump back and shovel the bug ahead of them. That is how Pip Rivers looked as he completed this pass. Even left-handed Jake Plummer thinks this was retarded.

-The real story of the game though, was Eddie Royal:

Haha. I stole this quote from Sean Star's Facebook. Man I am like the Puff Daddy of blogging. Sampling, bitches.

-Eddie is so nice, he did it twice:

-Ole number 8 played solid again, even if he looks like how I feel after a three day bender:

-It shouldn't be a surprise due to our Orton's Jack Daniels addiction, but his favorite target today was his own number in double-vision:

Akward walking/hopping is not a TD celebration. Just spike the ball and go for some chest bumps or something. You looked like a gay, skipping giraffe on PBS or some shit. Hell of catch though. Glad you didn't get shipped out like Cuntler.

-It was a good day for white pass catchers. I bet these racists are thrilled: 

Ben Aaker, I will continue this arguement until I die, at which point I will have "You can't score a TD with your feet" inscribed on my tombstone. When Stokes caught the ball it had broken the plane, he fell forwards (for him) after catching the ball and landed out of the end zone, but forward progress allows him to score. If his feet were in the end zone and he was diving out of the end zone, and the ball never broke the plane of the goalline, no TD.

And yes I spent like an hour researching this again. This is the best explanation of it I could find.

-If this guy is your coach, might as well be that girl from '27 Dresses', always the bridesmaid never winning anything more prestigious than the AFC West.

-I totally called this in my preview, by the way:

Strange, no pics of LdT? You might have asked that, hypothetical reader. If you get replaced by Darren Sproles on third-and-goal, no pics for you.

-These are the people I have to deal with on a daily basis:

Care about my life? I'll make you:

I started working as a bouncer, which has all the fun drama of going out without the perks of getting wasted. I actively must try to stop people from behaving exactly like I would be behaving. I think that my drunked exploits of stealing, breaking, sneaking in and causing general mayhem at bars helps me in this position, as I know what to look for, and what things are attractive, but I am betting that Karma has been waiting for this chance to pay me back. Not too exited for that to happen.

The best thing about bouncing is the hours. 9-3 isn't a bad job if you can get it, especially in the PM. I am no longer a weirdo for sleeping in until 3 p.m. Suck on that, dad. I wasn't being lazy, I was just training.

I got tipped out $15, and I am proud to say that is the first money I have actually been paid out here. Holla.

CSU vs. TCU. Kinda like what would happen if the Hindenburg landed on the Titanic:
I predicted we would lose, but not like that. Some quick thoughts, before I repress this memory down with the one about my Boy Scout troop leader (Just kidding. Walking around in the woods with a bunch of dudes is the opposite of what I enjoy. Anyone who signs up for that is already gay, so I guess they just enjoy their special squeezer merit badge).

-Klint Kubiak has been a great player for CSU, but he is more injury prone than LaDanian. I have a feeling we are going to be hearing from him soon, when he engineers disasters looking for Bruce Willis. Yep, I just called him Mr. Glass.

-I don't know who are bigger idiots; those throwing CSU and the coaching staff under the bus after losing games against four teams that have lost a combined 3 tiems or those who are turning on Obama. Both have a ton of work to do to get their respective 'teams' up to the elite level they were, it isn't going to happen in one year. People are so impatient now, they want everything right away, deal with reasonable expectations.(This could have gone much longer, be glad it didn't)

-TCU is much faster than us. That is clear. We need a couple years of faster recruits (read: those from Florida, Cali and Texas) until we will be truely competitive. As much as I think the SEC isoverrated, we need us some ESSS-EEEE-CEEE speed. Right now CSU leads the nation in whiteness. White people are not exactly know for our speed. I'm not sayin,' I'm just sayin.' (Uhh, no Fischer DeBerry, and see Brandon Stokely-related link)

-SDSU sucks balls. Exactly the team that we should be playing this week. And we are home. Let's do this.

In other sports news:
-CU won a game over a team from a real state. Guess why?

I am so glad, because this means that Hawkins will remain around for next season, when Stevie F can beat his ass at Invesco. Enjoy your 4-7 season, Buffs. Maybe he'll even name Cody as a starter again. Or move him to WR, just for shits and giggles. (Def. gonna do a blog with Hawk trying to find a spot for Cody to play. So excited)

-Plus the loss shut up Kansas fans, and they are definetly in my list of people I hate.

"We only cheer for Kansas basketball anyway."

I'm sure you do, whenever they are in the top-10. And certainly when the two sports teams decide to have a fucking royal rumble in the quad.

-The Dodgers and Angles are on the ropes, two things which make me estastic. I think I would drive to LA and start a fire in Dodger Stadium and Disney World if those two met in a World Series.

-It could have been worse for Rams fans, you could have been a fan of Texas A&M or the Titans. Or a fan of both. Would have been as depressing as a murder-suicide. (Out with a bang)

Chargers Hatin' Vol. 2: Better get to know the Supercockbags

Oh boy, we got a teaser yesterday of my hatred for the San Diego Superchargers, as that goddamn awful song calls them. Yes, I alluded to the players, but today I get to really go after them. So buckle up and watch your ass for Merriman, because he's going to be looking for someone to rape after reading this (because he fucking loves Twitter, and I am throwing this up on Twitter. Tweet war, holler).

Advertisement break:

"Billy Mays here!!!! Hey, are you tired of only getting Matt's awesome opinions once or twice a day here on this blog, and afraid you might miss out on his Facebook updates because some stupid bitch is clogging your wall with "Which Sex and the City Character AM I, LOL?" quizzes (Answer: You would be the fat one that the girls on the show ditch and therefore isn't on the show at all, because NO ONE WANTS TO HANG OUT WITH YOU. Why am I even your Facebook friend again? That is it, defriended...Sorry, /rant)? 

Well then, come on down to Twitter and follow Messiahthadon so he can send his opinions to you all day, straight to your phone if you like. 

Check out this satisfied customer: 

Hi, I'm Trevor. @Messiahthadon is the best. Such a Hilarious Hernandez, that guy. Even more offensive than the WAC. If I didn't follow him, I'd have to swagger jack @the_real_pat, and no one wants to do that. I mean, Pat swagger jacks Steve Nash. Pretty gay, right? P.S. ThaDon earns more than I do.

Wow, thanks Trevor. Yet another satisfied customer. Again that is Messiahthadon. And if you aren't on Twitter, get with the program. How else would you follow the progress of #balloonboy all day, by watching CNN? This isn't 1994, get with the program."

I thought it was bad when Ice Cube made a Raiders song, but the Chargers topped that with, are you ready? Actually you are not. Before I say who sings this Chargers song, you need to make sure you have a spotter nearby, kinda like with auto-erotic asphyxiation.

All right. It is Tila Tequialla. Haha, that was a joke.

This isn't a joke; it is POD. What, was fucking Creed busy? The only thing worse would be those fags from The Fray making a Broncos song. (OH MY GOD! quickly checks Youtube to make sure this isn't true. Nope, not yet. Really glad those emos hate team sports because they got stick-raped by the football team at whatever shitty suburb school they attended, which Wiki says was a mix of Ralston Valley or Faith Chrisitian, so yes, they got raped. Also, I don't recommend searching for 'Denver Broncos songs,' nothing good can come from it).

All right, now with that aside I can jump into savaging Chargers players like they were tiny Azn/Mexican reality TV stars (Merriman x2, check):


Phillip Rivers
Aliases: Marmalard, Lazerface, Floats McGoats, Pip, Sir Douchington XVII, Falcon Heene (because he floats the ball like a parachute, see?), etc.

Picture:

Bio: Rivers claims to be a religious, married, down-to-eath, gee-shuck-by-golly good-ole-boy from Alabama, very similar to BrettFarve, but just like BrettFarve, he is really a giant twat. He claims he doesn't swear and makes a big deal of this, supports abstinence (what a flaming dick), but when you watch him you know he is possibly the worst human being on the field, even if he is opposing Mike Vick WHILE Mr. BadNewsKennelz is electrocuting dogs. He taunts everyone from fans to ball boys, acting an ass all the time.

Which might be cool, if he didn't have the most girlish throwing motion of all-time. I bet he is just so sick of people laughing at his fairy pop-flies that he just blacks out during the game and assumes everyone in the stadium is laughing at him, like he just got depantsed during Powder Puff volleyball in front of the whole school.

The horrible thing really is that he is a decent quarterback, whose strength is throwing longs floats to his talented receivers and tight ends, but no one outside San Diego will ever like him because he is a raging twatwaffle.

Bonus: If I practice my Laserface (see above, minus the makeup) enough before Halloween and this comes in the mail, I will have the easiest Halloween costume evar!!! I'll just throw on the shirt, get a douchy Chargers hat (probably steal it from a hobo), and grab a football. Whammo. Then I yell, "You betta' ask Somebodayyyy!" and "What, HUH, COCKWALLET" or "Fuck that fucking pussy LDT." It is sure to be a big hit.

LaDanian Tomlinson

Aliases: LaToeInjury, Princess, LDT, NOT LT because that is Lawrence Taylor, got it Chargerfucks?

Picture: Some random dude sitting on a park bench, just dressed in a Powder Blue t-shirt.

Bio: Once a fantastic story of the underdog who became supreme, LdT was lightly recruited, went to TCU, tore shit up, came to San Diego in the Mike Vick trade, tore more shit up, and then turned in to the world's fattest fucking pussy about two years ago. I get it, you bust up a toe and you aren't going to be as good, but man, he just acts like he doesn't care any more. Basically his career sums up the Chargers history. A dynamic offensive force that bursts onto the scene and tantalizes with potential for championships, but ultimately fizzles out when the going gets tough. Shit, at least Natrone Means got to play in a Super Bowl.

Additionally, Chargers fans and ESPN douches love to call him LT, but everyone on Earth knows there is one true LT and that is Lawrence Taylor, quarterback-raper extraordinaire. He played games while yayed out of his got-damn mind after banging hookers all night long, he wasn't about to let some turf-toe or a low ankle sprain keep him down. But San Diego fans are too damn lazy to come up with something better.

Shawne Merriman

Aliases: Rapey McRoidy, Tequilla Sunrise, Lights-Out

Picture:

Bio: Merriman has the nickname "Lights out" because that is the state he likes chicks when he bangs them. He then shows off his awesome sexing technique after a sack, feigning a choke, a few seconds of rapid thrusting and a donkey punch. Ain't he cute.

He has been suspended for steroid abuse, just like his fellow Charger, defensive lineman Luis Castillo (I'm guessing his first name is Luis, hell if I know). He also has serious issues with women. He and Brandon Marshall could be buddies, 'cept I know B-Marsh ain't dumb enough to be seen with Tila Tequilla. Who the fuck does that? Probably someone like Shawne, who is obviously overcompensating for being named Shawne.

And for his tiny penis.

Plus, just like LdT, he is a damn swagger-jacker of the OG LT. Wears number 56 and rushes from the blind side. I'm also sure LT beat up some hookers first. Now jump on that Cocaine Train, Shawne, unless you are a pussy.

Also, Mr. Merriman and several of the Chargers like to frequent some local bars in San Diego. Guess which one on Thursdays? Guess which blogger probably won't be talking about his blog too much on Thursdays when he works there as a bouncer? Yep, me. But with my knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, we could have a real EPICFAIL story on here. Or on TMZ.

Vincent Jackson and Chris Chambers

Alias: The Booze Brothers

Picture: This guy, except he is DRIVING A FUCKING CAR

Bio: You ever wonder when Rivers throws his fucking moonballs why the defense doesn't pick off every single one, it is because these two drunken jackasses (each popped at least once for a DUI) don't actually run routes so much as they just stagger around until a pass falls to them or they pass out behind the wheel, I assume. Sadly, for the defense, they are big, fast and impossible to cover because they have super-drunken abilities to sprint forever, but not in a straight line. Add in the fact that the Chargers have an awesome offense line and a usually solid running game, and the defensive back covering them won't have much safety help.

Fun fact: Vincent Jackson went to UNC. The one in Greeley, not Chapel Hill. I don't really blame him for being wasted 24/7. I try to be when I am in Greeley. In fact, often I take a shit ton of Vicadin when I am there and pretend I am in a painting that is a Salvador Dali and Norman Rockwell fusion. Plus, Greeley cops are too busy plotting to kill each other like they are in a bad soap opera, so who is going to give you a DUI?

Darren Sproles:

*No I didn't forget to write about Tiny Darren, but it is so small you can't see it. HAHAHAHA.

Fuck, he just scored on another kick return.

Antwan Cason

Bio: My roommate Jake went to the University of Arizona with Cason, and says he is actually a good dude who did a lot of community service work and shit. But Jake is a fucking dick, so I assume Cason is as well. Transitive property, or something.

Gartrell Johnson and Kory Sperry

Picture: Any excuse to post this 

Bio: Guess how excited I was when I found out that two CSU Rams would be in San Diego along with me? Plus I live just blocks from Qualcomm. OMG, I was just sure we would be BFF. Shit, on my first day I even saw two Chargers at Chipotle (I was sure. They were giant black men wearing Chargers gear and sandals with socks, something only athletes do). I was rocking a CSU shirt, and they were totally staring me down. And then, just days later, the fucking Chargers cut Gartrell, and he signed with the Giants. Sperry was cut a couple weeks before and signed with Miami. Guess what Chargers, I had two reasons to like you guys, and you just fucked that up. This is like finding out that Hitler was a BoSox fan, just more reason to hope he burns in Hell.

Jacob Hester

Bio: Hey buddy. There is only room for one white, scrappy, white, adorable, overachieving, (did I mention white) fullback/tailback in the AFC West, and that guy is Peyton Hillis, not you. Go to Canada or the UFL, dick.

Nate Kaeding

Bio: I mentioned this yesterday, but WD Sherle swears this guy is the biggest stoner he has ever met. And WD fucking lived with a kid named Filly's Blunt. Plus Kaeding went to Iowa, so fuck him in his Hawkeye.

Junior Seau

I know he doesn't play for the team anymore, but fuck him in his fucking peehole. No one was John Elway's whipping boy more (except Lance), and I loved watching him as his Super Bowl dreams died in Arizona against the Giants. Get over it old man, if you couldn't win on an undefeated team you won't win ever.

Plus, you keep trying to play with the Pats, but your restaurant just down the road from me features a bigass Charger's logo and helmet on the sign. Pick a fucking team.

Norv Turner

Yeah, he is the coach and a total halfwit, but I think Chargers fans hate him more than I do. Without him this Chargers team is talented enough to win a Super Bowl. With him, they will never do shit. I really feel he is Wade Phillips' bastard brother, or something.

Tomorrow I start work as a bouncer, so there could be stories about that. Otherwise, I am trying to get a Nuggs/Avs preview (albeit a little late for the latter) up soon. Then CSU recap on Sunday/late Sat. Then my tailgating plans for the SD/Denver game. Or I might just get really rip-roaring drunk and do nothing much all weekend. We'll see...

Bonus: A Special Rant/Epic Fail story that prominently features SuperCuts

So yesterday I got a haircut. I don't like getting haircuts and really have a problem paying some lady $20 plus tip to run a clipper over my head for five minutes. It isn't because I'm cheap (yes, it probably is), but it is more the fact that I think that I could do it better myself and I really feel that every haircut looks like shit. I could pay for a good haircut, but giving some fruit $50 to style my hair sounds like about as much fun as ripping off a fingernail. Instead, I get the cheapest haircut from one of the national chains and trust that my hair follicals will regenerate at their usual warp-speed (suck on that those of you losing hair in your early 20s).

Unfortunately this haircut was so piss poor I couldn't even do that. I just asked to buzz the top with 5, the sides and back with a 3 while blending it a little. Instead, the lady insisted it would look better if I had the front longer to style. For some reason I hate being too upset about a cut with the ladies at the salon because I imagine that they go home at night to get beaten by their drunk husband, so I usually thank them and leave thinking I will like it better after I shower. I don't, but by then I have moved on.

I dealt with my shitty hair for about 24 hours, but after a run and workout got my hair all sweaty, I realized that my hairline was fucking lopsided. One side was about 1/2 an inch long in places, and very straggly, and the other side was about a 1/3 of an inch, all cropped short. My balding friends have said a receding hairline wasn't too bad because they could still hide it most of the time, but how the fuck do you hide a crooked hairline.

Well, I figured I'd bust out some scissors to even it out. I was doing good for a while, taking care to "measure twice and cut once," as my dad always instilled in me, but then my lack of patience got in the way. "I'll just use my new all-purpose beard trimmer, that should work." (It has four different heads and a number of attachments, including one perfect for Man-tenance.)

You can guess what happened next. Yep, everyone either knew, or was, the little kid who failed miserably to give themselves a haircut, and laughter at their expense taught us all not to do that. I should have learned this then, and that time in middle school when my sister convinced me I was growing a uni-brow and I shaved off half and eyebrow.

But some people don't learn, and while I tried to make sure I was over the toilet, so it could collect the hair and save me some cleaning time, I took out a big-ass chunk on the right side of my hairline. PIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSS.

I am due to begin working at a fairly upscale club in San Diego in about 48 hours. I could fix the crooked hairline with gel and hair wax, but not this. I really had two choices, admit failure completely and get another haircut, or try to level the front myself.

If anyone knows me (which you all do), I have a remarkable ability to put myself in dumb situations. I will almost assuredly spill food on myself at a meal. If I can get lost, I will. If I throw something, it will break something. I get myself into a ton of stupid situations, but doing so has allowed me to learn many skills necessary to alleviate my embarrassment. This served as another one of those, as I now have confirmed that I can cut my hair better than that bitch at SuperCuts.

Charger Hatin' Vol. 1: The Fans

 

#thingsthatarestupid

This week the Denver Broncos take on a team that has a very special place in my life, the San Diego Chargers. Yes, that special place is the back of the toilet where I aim when I am pissing. Every time I let loose a stream of yellow fury, I imagine Pip Rivers face yelling at me. It helps me relax, because sometimes I get a little tight, especially in public (Why are you being so difficult, Pedro? You are making me look like a weirdo who just likes to hang out in front of urinals).

Since my Denver Donkos will be invading Qualcomm on Monday night, this shall officially be Charger Bashing week. First up, we start with the worst of the worst, Chargers fans...

I could really give a fuck about Al-Queda or Osama, but if we could eradicate Chargers' fans I would be ecstatic. I mean, imagine how clear the 8 to the Beaches would be (sheds a wistful tear).Yes, Raider fans are much more visible and flagrant with their douchetastic outfits, but I also rarely have to deal with them.

Shockingly, the trouble with moving to San Diego is that there are an awful lot of San Diegans here, and most of them are Charger fans. This is weird for two reasons, because: A) San Diego is very much a transplant city B) I didn't think that migrant workers liked American football (on the subject of Futbol, suck it Costa Rica. Huson Street now off the hook for worst Fail of the Week).

The funniest thing about San Diego fans is their low expectations. At the Ralph's where I shop, they have this big ass Coke display where they have spelled out 'Chargers AFC WEST CHAMPS' in Diet Coke boxes. Creative? Yes. Hilarious? To me, oh hells yes.

Chargers fan: "WAHOOO! WE WENT 8-8 AND ONLY MADE THE PLAYOFFS BECAUSE THE OTHER TEAM FELL THE FUCK APART. Celebrate good times. Only seven other teams accomplished this last year. We beat out three other teams, two of whom were the Chiefs and the Raiders. Suck it, Denver.

Wow, honey. They are selling the Chargers AFC West Championship t-shirts for $16 here. What, I know that is two hours of my salary at Church's Chicken. Okay, fine, Ralph's is a little too exorbitant for us anyway. I bet they'll have some at the Food4Less for like $13. Oh man, can't wait to wear this thing when I see my probation officer on Monday."

On a plane to San Diego last summer a Chargers boo'd my Broncos shirt as I went to take a piss, and started talking shit about winning the AFC West. I took my piss, visualized Rivers, and planned on ignoring him, but I heard him talking shit to his friends the whole time while.  So, on my way back to my seat I just asked, "How many Super Bowls have you guys won?" and kept walking. He had no retort and sputtered something stupid, but if he did say anything I was going to drop, "And you know Holliday touched home." Glad it didn't come to that.

San Diegoans also apparently know the unspoken rule in world that black people don't wear the jerseys of white guys (unless they are badass throwbacks), but I have seen way too many black people rocking Marmalard jerseys in this town. I guess they would rather wear the jersey of a grade-A cockwallet than one of a giant pussy.

Seriously, Todd McFarlane made his LaToeinjury "Action Figure" into a lacktion figure. 

Even when the Broncos had Cutler and I loved his right arm, I was aware that he was douche. But Chargers' fans talk about Rivers like he is the Patron Saint of Quarterbacks. Get off his fucking dick, he isn't even as good as Stan Humphries after his 12th concussion.

I guess, other than Rivers or Tomlinson, the choices are pretty limited for SD fans. I don't understand how Chargers fans cheer for these guys. They feature a bigger collection of dicks than are present for a Kaci Starr gangbang scene (Google pornstars from Carbondale, CO if you are confused, no pic linking on this one). I mean, do you want a jersey that says you support a woman beater (Merriman), a couple of drunk driving receivers (Vincent Jackson and Chris Chambers), a super-high and erratic kicker (ask WD Scherle for more info on Keadding), etc. And there is no possible way that a Sproles jersey will fit a human over the age of six. Speaking of which... 

Here are 5 Things that are bigger than Darren Sproles:
1) My last duece. And it was pretty small, by my standards.
2) The baby from the E-Trade commericals
3) The average IQ of the Kardashian family
4) My chances of ever getting married (self burn, what?)
5) The world's tiniest violin

Aside: All of that talk of the horrible jersey choices SD fans have made me realize that I really want a B-Marsh jersey, because he encompasses everything into one fantastic Meast (Man-Beast) package.
 
In conclusion, there is only one Chargers fan that I don't mind looking at...

...but, like all the other Chargers fans, as soon as her mouth opens I will want to punch her square in the face and kick her as she falls.

Pregaming Analysis: Ex-Christian University

*I ramble a bit on this one, I promise future installments in this series will be better and more humorous.

I probably won't have any real pre-game analysis of any upcoming CSU game since I usually don't even get to watch them live anymore and would just rehash what is said in the newspaper, so I will stick with what I know.And while I won't bring you pregame analysis, I will bring you Pregaming Analysis. I stumbled upon this topic while discussing my hatred of Utah's archaic liquor laws in an earlier preview, and I like where that went.

I will share my experiences tailgating before CSU games and give my impressions on the rival fans that we will be facing this week. There will be, of course, a few more Failgate stories than stories of great success.


Let me make one thing clear, I love Colorado State as much as anybody (short of Gary Ozzello and a select few other die-hards), but sometimes I still regret not trying to transfer to TCU. That is how awesome the 12 hours I spent on the TCU campus were.

I have wanted to go to TCU since 2005, when I (and distinguished Collegian writers Trevor Edy and Nick Piburn) made the 13-plus hour trip to TCU for the 2005 game, which actually could have been for the MWC championship. Due to some trouble with the law (something about an MIP and a traffic cone theft charge in the euphoria of the Utah goal-line stand game) I was unable to drive. Fortunately, Edy and Piburn were allowed to borrow a rental car (Chevy Impala, what?) and comped hotel rooms. Sadly, awesome Collegian planning forced us to stay in Bricktown (aka Boom! Oklahoma City /Xzibit) the night before the game, something I still regret to this day, even though their Hooters was excellent. The next morning we traveled the rest of the way to Fort Worth, and due to their Collegian jobs, my friends had to go to the press box, leaving me to Failgate alone.

What did I learn? That if you get a chance to go to TCU, fucking go, doggy. Why?

Because Texas girls are hot and plentiful: I plan on one day marrying a girl from Texas. I love everything about them. They are nice, smile a lot, have that southern charm and drawl, know how to cook, are hot, etc. And of any place I have ever visited, TCU has the hottest, and most, girls. 

The school is about 9,000 students, and about 60% are girls. Hot, Texas born and bred (read: rich) girls. Girls that traveled around in packs at the game and seemingly ambushed me from every direction. I'm not knocking CSU girls, we make them fine, but that was the first time that I ever felt like I was the target. At CSU the bars and parties are usually more guys than girls, especially more guys than attractive girls. At TCU, the girls outnumbered the guys everywhere I looked. Put one guy with two girls, and you can almost guarantee that the girls will get catty fighting for the attention. Put about ten girls to three guys and you have fucking Shark Week.

I got to feel like Sharkbait (Fantasy Factory y'all) as these roving packs of ten sorority girls trolled around handing out pink ribbons (for breast cancer). They would give me the ribbon, we would chat about breasts, the game, the school, and I would tell them that my sister was in their sister sorority (even if she wasn't). Then, when they moved on, I would take off the ribbon, put it in my pocket (probably a dick move), and wait for the next group to come along. In an hour's time of doing this I collected about 12 ribbons and didn't see one group twice.

The people other than the hot girls are also usually pretty entertaining:
At this point in my life when I took this trip, all I knew about Texans were that they invaded Colorado in the winter to ski in blue jeans, thought they were pretty special, liked to drink, were fairly racist and couldn't drive worth shit. Now, four years, two visits, two Texan roommates and a slew of Texan friends later, I have learned a bunch about the state, and I realize that I was pretty much on the money initially. Here are the five things I know for certain about Texans, in addition to the hot women.

1) Texans are very friendly: So friendly, in fact, that drivers will sometimes pull onto the shoulder to let you pass. This is awesome. I now live in Cali, and people pass you on the shoulders while flipping you off with both hands. People at TCU would just come up to meet while I was tailgating alone, decked out in CSU gear, and be genuinely excited to have a conversation. TCU fans wished me and my team luck. It was a little bit disorienting, as they are almost overly nice.

2)Texans love beer: and are pretty liberal about the rules. It is one of the few things Texans are liberal about, other than the 'lectric chair and gun control. But it is awesome to find a place where you can drink your beer in the parking lot without wristband Nazi's stalking you or cops forcing you to poor out your Captain Morgan (all right, it was actually Admiral Nelson, you know I'm cheap).

And they probably won't have a DUI checkpoint leaving the game, because I don't believe they have DUI's in Texas. A certain former roommate of mine told me about wrecking his truck while hammered, and the cop figured that the crash had "taught him his lesson," so he charged him with Obstruction of a Highway. He learned his lesson all right, so well that he later picked up a DUI in Colorado, when upon leaving one of our party's, he hit our house, hit three cars (two in our driveway, one in our neighbors) and almost ran me over while I tried stop him from driving...too the fucking liquor store to buy more Keystone Ice (He, thankfully, has fully learned his lesson this time).

So maybe they are a little too lax on this in Texas, but you know, everything is bigger there, even the legal limit.

3) Texans talk a big religious game... but they don't really back it up. Some may see this as negative, but I like it. Texans say they are God-fearing, and I think generally want to believe it, but they can't don't really read the bible (too busy learning the state cactus or how to take a horseshoe dip of Cope).

Instead they are really more immoral than almost any other group of people, yet not on the surface. It is not like you are visiting Las Vegas or Vice City, some place where a lack of convictions are flaunted to the point it is almost disgusting. Texans have this nice and clean surface, and they work to keep it that way, but with just a little coaxing they abandon all pretense.

It is Texas Christian University, but as I was told repeatedly by people after a couple of drinks, "We no longer have any religious ties." Awesome, but I still bet your father feels a little safer sending his little girl to a school with Christ in the name, even if it is common knowledge that he peaced out years ago.

4) Texans are not shy: They are who you thought they are, as Denny Green would say. Again, this is one of those positives that can quickly switch negative, but it sure makes conversations easier. Ask a question, and just wait for the opinions to roll out. Everyone is a little country, not concerned with being rude, and almost certainly...

5) Texans are racist: This is not a secret, but it still shocks me just how unabashed Texans are about it. It is just inherent. Words (specifically the N-word) that are off-limits will be tossed around like candy, and you will be the weird one for noticing. Whenever I ask my Texas friends about this most deny that they are actually racist, and take great pride in making it clear that they have black or Mexican friends. It is just that this is the way they grew up talking and they won't change now (Texans are also very stubborn).

Failgate: About three hours before gametime, after I spilled a beer on my lap when I was attempting to pour it into a 7-11 cup, thinking that I had to hide my drinking from the law.  I was in enough legal trouble at the time from stealing a traffic cone after the Utah goal-line stand (another Failgate altogether), yet somehow I thought that sitting behind the wheel of a car and drinking equated a low profile.It made sense at the time. After letting my pants to dry off with the car's fans pointed directly at my crotch (a wonderful sensation) while I drank three beers, I decided to say fuck it and go mingle. It was a fairly warm day, and no one noticed. Or everyone was too late to point it out.

A year later, a certain journalist (who may have been at this TCU game) claims to have had a similar Failgate, but all those who witnessed it said that he actually pissed himself Miles Davis-style. There are pictures on Facebook of everyone pointing at his soiled pants. Glad no one was with me to make it any more embarrassing.


I swear to you that all future Failgate stories will be better and much more embarrassing for me.

Here is my quick, actual game analysis:
I don't think CSU has a realistic shot. I do think that they will cover the 20-ish point spread, and I hope that they finally put together a full game and pull off the third biggest win in program history (No. 1: Arizona in 1994, No. 2: CU in 2002). But I just don't see it happening.

We will need Mason over 150 yards, Mosure with at least one big (40+ yards) play, Greer to use Stick-em instead of Crisco, Stucker to not throw to the purple guys and a hell of a defensive effort. And a great deal of luck.

Still, good luck Rams.

The Rockies have so many positives (and a negative loses his name). This one has music...

This post goes well with Wale-Bittersweet playing in the background:

When I was in third grade, after helping my dad win his illicit city-wide football pool (because I have always been a gotdamn sports genius*) he came home with the winnings, set to share that gwap with me. Then, in a Father Knows Best moment gone horribly wrong, he took away all but the two dollar entrance fee, attempting to learn me good about the dangers of gambling with other people's money, or some shit. I started bawling, juked out of my jock like I was trying to tackle Barry Sanders.

That is about the most equitable feeling I can compare to tonight's Rocks loss. Everything was shitty for the Rocks for about 6 innings, and even Tulo's double was soon followed by his blunder. Then, Giambino and Torreablba (seriously, what is with this guy in RockOctober. His walk-up song is "Somos de Calle" by Daddy Yankee, which translated must mean Only Hits After Sept. 1) coming through huge. Followed by Huson Street blowing only his third save of the season, while Fuck-up Lidge somehow strikes out my mancrush. I think Simmons would call this a stomach-punch game. It sucked.

(ASIDE: I should have known, the last time Jon Miles scored Rockies tickets we got swept before he could go. This time he goes and buys tickets to multiple games and brings his bad luck to Coors. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, STOP BUYING FUCKING TICKETS. First Edy with CSU, and now you with my Rox. Quit conspiring against me.)

But, there is a silver-lining and hope for the future for these Rocks, just like the end of my "gambling" story. See, after my tears came out, my mother called my dad a jerk and an asshole, which made me laugh (not out loud) and him feel terrible. Guess who not only got to keep his share of the money, but was also rewarded with my dad's share of the $48 bucks as well. Holler.

Yes, loyal readers, all seven of you, there are many more positives about these Rockies than there are negatives heading into next season. I could go into the negatives, but no one really wants a 40,000-word story describing the black hole-like suckitude of Clint Barmes, which was my alternate idea for this post. (Amaizingly, that story would only feature ten unique words repeated ad nauseam; Cocksucker, Barmes, douchebag, wildabeast-rape, PIIIIISSSSSS, zero, for, fourteen, error, shitfuck).

Addendum: Henceforth I shall not name [the player that batted eighth for the Rockies today]. If he must be referenced, it will be in brackets. [Name redacted]'s pop-ups to deep second and samurai-pose strike outs have driven me to the breaking point.

Positives:
The Obvious:
Tulo and Helton will be back to lead us, along with a competent manager. Cook will be solid again.


Cargo: I wonder if right now Billy Beane would even consider trading Matt Holliday straight-up for Carlos Gonzalez if he could revisit it. Mr. Lazorbeams just tore it up, at 23-years old, facing plus left-handed pitching in almost every at bat. A true five-tool player, he could be an all-star for the next decade if he continues to play like he did in the second half of this season.

And since I earlier suggested a song, well Gonzo should use Chester French's "I'm So Tall" as his walk-up song next season. "I'm so tall that Lazor beams are shooting out of my face." Yes, yes they are.

Ubaldo:
He is only 25. He only throws the hardest of anyone in the majors. He only breaks off stuff so filthy it should be condemned.

The U-Ball still makes a few mistakes a game, and has yet to put together one of those truly dominating performances, but he will, and hopefully that comes next year. He is already the best pitcher ever for the Rockies (a list that is neither long, nor distinguished) and I cannot wait to see him shove fastball up people's asses next season (no homo). I suggest "Beauty Queen" by Leather Dynamite, (unless you are at work) because, well, he doesn't seem that tough when you first look at him, all gangly and slow, but then wow, that just comes out of nowhere and shocks you.

DEX and EY2:
Also 23, Mr Fowler is the second young outfielder that should be entrenched in the "really, really big" outfield at Coors for the next decade, at the least. While not as powerful as Lazors Gonzalez, he is faster and still learning to hit from the left side of the plate, taking it up just four years ago after he was drafted. As we saw tonight (when he posterized Chase Utley) the boy has skillz.

EY2 is even fucking faster than Dex. Also a switch hitter, with a bit of pop (like his pops), he can fly. Just think if he had pulled that ball into the hole just a bit tonight, he would have easily beaten the throw. Imagine a Rockies lineup with him leading off, Dexter in the two-hole and Carlos third. Then a little bit of Tulo cleaning-up and little bit of Helton coming next. There is a melody to that like a Lou Bega song (Mambo #5). I think I just sported wood. (Yes, EY2 to second base, replacing [name redacted]. Just thinking of him caused me to stab myself in the abdomen with my nail file. FUCK.]

Bonus: Each already have awesome walk-up songs that are fitting, "Run This Town" ('cause he fast) and "Stuntin Like My Daddy" ('cause of his daddy. VROOM on that Yahama).

Roster Flexibility:
The ability to trade Hairy Atkins, B(r)ad Hawpe, [name redacted], Spilly, Torre or someone for some more pitching. We also have a deep farm system that could be used, but certainly one or more of those listed could be moved. Marquis is as good as gone, Atkins will give way to Stewie, (and I still think should have in the postseason even though Garret played all right) and I think that Seth Smith would put up similar numbers to Hawpe with a full season.

Let's trade Hawpe and Atkins for relief pitching and/or prospects. Also, let's offer [Suckmaster 2B], Dinger and the damn home run song to Azerbaijan for some pubic hair and call it even.

Here is my mock-up of my dream lineup next year:
1. EY2 2b
2. Dex CF
3. Carlos RF
4. Tulo SS
5. Helton 1B
6. Stewart 3B
7. Iannetta C
8. Smith LF
Bench:
[Player that I hate more than Jamie Carrol, and man do I hate Jamie Carrol]
Right-handed veteran who can play 1B, 3B, or a corner OF position. Someone cheap but with pop; Troy Glaus, Craig Counsell, Gabe Kappler, Fernando Tatis, etc.

If he is willing, resign Giambi
Spilly
Torre

A Deep Pitching Staff: 
1. U-Ball
2. A healthy Jeff Francis
3. Cookie
4. De la Rosa
5. Hammel/Franklin Morales/Chacin

Relievers:
Closer: Street. He only blew three all year. Probably wasn't healthy and/or sharp after his injury late in the year, but you can't give up on him just because he was rocky. And yes, Rory, I do "Hate Him Now"
8th: Bettancourt. Dude is nails. Captain Clutch needs to be resigned
7th: Matt Daley and whichever of our #5 candidates loses out.
Also: Keep Joe Beimel if we can, sign another lefty specialist and get another solid veteran (LaTroya Hawkins?)

Yep, that shit is tight. We have power pitchers from the right side and from the left. Promising youngsters and proven veterans. Depth to carry us through the inevitable injury.

It was a damn good run this year. The ending for every team except one is bitter, but there were a ton of sweet moments this season. Yes, next season, I run to you, with open arms

*The asterik above is due to the fact that I found it funny, that while writing about my genious status, I misspelled three words, at least.

An up and down weekend (with LOL-pictures)...and Ryan Howard has a giant pig nose

My personal happiness probably revolves too much around the success, or lack thereof, of the sports teams that I follow. Case in point, this weekend:

After spending about a month unemployed, in the course of the past few days I have been hired at not one, but two jobs. I started one of them and realized that it was maybe the easiest job ever, and my second job will be as a bouncer at a popular Gaslamp club, which should help me meet a ton of new people in San Diego, something I desperately need to do. I also connected with some fellow Bonedalians who have relocated to SD, watched the Broncos game with a great group of people and ate lobster for the first time in my life.

Yet with all those awesome experiences this weekend, as the clock strikes midnight I am sitting alone at my computer pissed off that the Rockies lack of control on the mound, and the umpires lack of vision, cost them a game. Add in the fact I earlier watched highlights lowlights of the most recent CSU choke job, and I am much more upset than I have any right to be.

Fuck it, here are my most pressing/random thoughts about each of this weekend's games:


CSU vs. Utah: 
-I didn't get to watch this live, as I was "working" facilities in Lemon Grove, which consisted of me reading a book while my crazy VatoLoco coworker slept on a nearby couch. I did get Twitter updates all game long (+1 to Twitter, -1 to me for not having an I-Phone or laptop), and from those I put all blame on Grant Stucker. Actually I have no real idea, but he obviously flamed out down the stretch for CSU. The consensus seems to be that Grant is less to blame than the coaching staff for abandoning the run, but it still seems weird that we have yet to see Mr. Jon Eastman make an appearance. I think that changes vs. TCU unless CSU can somehow keep it close.

-While I love drinking myself warm (and good-looking), I was not too upset to be stuck in lovely SD with the ability to go for a nice run outside. Props though to the 30,000+ that braved the weather to support CSU. Good to see Hughes Stadium looking more and more packed

-If someone had told me that CSU would be 3-3 after six games in the preseason, I would have jumped on that shit like Tulo on a neck high fastball. We will likely be 3-4 after TCU, disapointing after a 3-0 start, but every remaining game is certainly winnable. A reappearance in a bowl was the goal for the season, so it is not time to jump off the bandwagon.

-We need Momo to play with a chip on his shoulder like Nick Opp does. Kid is nails.

-I blame this loss solely on Trevor Edy (or Tjedy, as he goes by on Twitter) for calling me asking "Can you believe this?" after the Rams took a 17-3 lead. Before I could even answer the phone CSU had given up a score and thrown a pick. DAMN YOU, EDDDYYYYY!!!! (Falls to knees, raises fist to the heavens and shakes it)

Broncos vs. Pats: (I.E. Welcome to the picture portion of the blog-ram)

-So this Neckbeard character is pretty good, huh:

-Brandon Marshall is pretty fucking Boss:

-I kept thinking I was cheering for the pissy and poopy Cowpokes.

To summerize:

(So I stole this idea and the second pic from Kissing Suzy Kolber, holler)

Rocks vs. Phillies:
-Yorvitt and Clint will be the death of me. Quickly, 5 things that could have done more damage to the Rockies today than their bagles at the plate:
1) AIDS.
2) Matt Holliday playing every defensive position.
3) Two drunk monkeys dressed in purple.
4) Sarah Palin
5) The Umps

-Yes, let's give a big shout-out to the umpires who all watched Chase Utley foul a ball off his shin, then get thrown out at first and still decided to award him first base. No it doesn't excuse Jason Giambi and Tulowitzki from popping up in with the tying run on second, but I would still be watching baseball otherwise.

-The Rockies inability to throw strikes was a big deal as well, but guess who decides what the strike zone is? It is those highly reliable and on-the-ball guys I just bitched about above.

-Did you know that Coors Field has a big outfield and that it was cold. I didn't, so thanks TBS douchebags for reminding me every six seconds.

-We end with a picture, that sums up why I still love this Rockies team, and Rockies fans at Purple Row:

(I stole this from PurpleRow)


-URGENT LAST MINUTE EDIT: It has come to my attention, via sources from Eagle-Vail, that Ryan Howard has a gigantic pig nose.

 

Phuck the Phillies and East Coast Bias

There is a ton I like about living out here in California. It is warm, every day. But not too warm, just Goldilocks warm. 80 degrees and sunny, cooling to the low 60s at night. Every single day (it allegedly rained once this month, but I was sleeping). There are a lot of beautiful people. There is a beach. I will never have to deal with a blizzard, unlike you poor stiffs in Colorado already prepping for the cold.

But following my sports teams, especially this Rocktober redux just hasn't been the same out here in sunny California. For one thing, I don't get every game on TV, so I have spent a lot of my time watching MLB.com's gamecasts, which are serviceable, but not near the same excitement. It is like having someone describe a Picasso, it just doesn't work.

And even when I get to watch a game, it is not near as fun as watching in Colorado where everyone else was watching. During the 2007 Rocktober I could predict whenever the Rocks were going to do something big. Not because I am Nostradamus, but because our neighbors cable picked up the game about a second before our HD Satellite (I am not a peasant). It was awesome, knowing that people understood why I was screaming like a madman. Or I was at the bar (RIP Sully's) as it exploded whenever Matty Holliday dropped a bomb, hurridly ordering a victory beaver in celebration. But in Cali the people walking their dogs past my house must think I have Tourrettes or hate their animals due to my constant screams of joy and anger.

Still, I was damn excited to know that every Rockies game in postseason would be on TV, meaning I no longer had to hide in my room and constantly check wait for the "Ball in Play, Run(s)" to pop up on Gamecast to get excited. I could watch the game, with my roomate and feel an emotional connection to the game.

But no, goddamn TBS (Frank TV) and Major League Baseball put the Rockies in the 11:30am time slot for both games. What the bejeasus fuck. Baseball is American, and Americans work during the day (and I, finally, am rejoining that working class). So now every Rockies fan west of the Mississippi (which, at last check, is pretty much all of them) forced to either skive off work, watch a shitty version online or hope against all hope that no one ruins the game and they can watch it later on TIVO.

I was lucky enough to watch game one, but that is what I have to do for game two. Which means I will have to avoid taking any calls non-business related, avoid all radio (not hard, I do this anyway in my car), all text messages from friends, all Tweets (messiahthadon; holler), and hopefully any random Rockies (thats a joke, I have yet to see another one out here) or douchtard Phillies fans. At the same time, I have to hope the DVR records correctly, the game doesn't go into super-extra innings and cut off the recording, that my roomates fiance doesn't accidentally mess it up to watch Dr. Phil solve stupid problems for stupid people or that I don't accidently hit an improper button during playback and flash forward too far. If all this manages to work it will be a bigger miracle than the 2007 playoff run, and it will still lack that same connection I felt with fellow fans in 2007.

And then there is the fact that, you know, the Rocks could be down 0-2 if they lose, making me feel unbelievably stupid for going through all this effort.