Highlander reference. Good stuff. Won an award for best movie ever.
If he ever leaves the Cubs, Carlos Zambrano said the only two teams he'd consider playing for are the White Sox and Boston Red Sox.
If you ever wanted to see a manager and one of his pitchers battle to the death with baseball bats, you should be writing your local congressman to make this happen. Z has size but Ozzie is squirrely and supremely insane. Good fight, gentleman.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
The Worst Piece Of Journalism Ever.
Ever.
You just won the U.S. Open. Act like it!
You'd never know Lucas Glover is a champ by the way he acts
You mean he acts like a classless buffoon in what is supposed to be a gentleman game? A game where JP Hayes turned himself in over inadvertently using the wrong ball, thus costing himself a PGA tour card when nobody would have known the difference? No, you Rick Reilly, are advocating that he act like a jackass.
Two Down O'Connor, World's Most Avid Golf Gambler, was watching replays of Lucas Glover winning the U.S. Open and was severely disgruntled.
Two Down O'Connor? Really? That's his name? Was he drinking cheap scotch in an old western saloon with a floozie on his lap? I'm not impressed if he wasn't. Also, who the hell is enough of a sociopath to gamble on golf?
"Look at this!" Two Down said as he pointed at Glover, who was politely accepting the trophy on the 18th green at Bethpage Black. "I mean look how boring he is! He looks like he was just named Proctology Patient of the Year."
James Boyle, the actual Proctology Patient of the Year, had to be played off the stage at this year's American Proctology Awards because his speech was so long. He was clearly excited and happy to be there. Two Down O'Connor doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about.
I barely arched an eyebrow. Two Down is the leader of our Saturday morning foursome -- The Chops -- and you do not want to give him a foothold.
That's a very esoteric statement. Why would anyone care?
"If I won a U.S. Freaking Open, I'd go absolutely electroshock, three-alarm, bat-guano nuts!" he continued. "I'd race around the green like I was on fire! I'd French kiss the old lady scorekeeper! I'd climb up the TV tower and swan dive into the crowd!"
THEN I WOULD CHUG THREE NATTY LIGHTS 'CUZ I'M THE FUCKING BOSS!!!!!!@!!!
I did not so much as twitch an eyebrow.
Perhaps you should have told Two Down to shut up. Then we wouldn't have this article.
"Well, why not? In tennis, when Roger Federer wins a major, he falls backward like he just got poleaxed. If this were football, the guy would be doing the electric chicken right in front of the other team's bench, thumping his chest and taking a video of himself with his other hand. Hell, Ochocinco might stage a Broadway musical right then and there."
1. This is not football.
2. The electric chicken, in the terms you are thinking of it, does not exist. You just combined the electric slide, a dance typically performed to Gloria Gaynor's 1980 classic "I Will Survive", and the funky chicken, which is what JR Smith did in front of the Lakers Bench in this year's Western Conference Finals. This is what pops up when you search electric chicken on google.
3. The last sentence is a lame ripoff of an even lamer Family Guy skit where Peter Griffin breaks into a Broadway musical after scoring a touchdown. How pathetic are you when you're stealing ideas from Family Guy?
Another Chop -- Provisional -- hollered in from the euchre table.
Why do all of your friend's have assassin like monikers? What's your moniker? Shadowtrap? The PUNisher? Baron Von Killface? Rickles? I bet it's Rickles.
"He's right! If I won the U.S. Open, I'd pick up the flagstick and fire it like a Tommy gun at the crowd. I'd have secretly hidden my cell phone in the hole and when the final putt went in, I'd answer it: 'This is the 2009 U.S. Open champion speaking. Which means you are not the 2009 U.S. Open champion. Sucks to be you!' I'd make my caddie give me a piggyback ride and I'd whip him like a jockey on a horse. I'd lay my bag on the ground, straddle it and then paddle with my putter. I'd waltz myself around the green like it really was the dance floor!"
If I were a fan watching you do this, I would plug my ipod into the loudspeaker and kick your ass to a soundtrack. Perhaps Asia's "Heat Of The Moment". Is that enough 80's references? No it's not, because I want to be the next Bill Simmons.
This captured the attention of a third Chop -- Hoover, so named because he sucks worse than an entire vacuum plant -- and he jumped in with both cleats.
What does Hoover suck at? Golf? Clog dancing? Life in general? Every group has that one guy who just generally sucks. This group seems to have many of those guys.
"If I just beat 155 guys, I'd be cocky as hell, like other jocks," Hoover said. "I'd extend my hand to the guy I'd just beaten like I was going to shake it and then, when he started to grab it, I'd pull it back. Psych! When the guy in the blazer came out with the winner's check, I'd snatch his toupee off and fling it like a Frisbee."
Bro, bro. Listen, Bro. BRO!! OK, I would totally WRECK SHIT UP! I would eat three Big Macs while drinking a Busch Light while giving it doggy style to Tiger Woods's wife on the 6th tee, Ok? Why the 6th tee? BECAUSE THAT'S HOW I DO!
"No, no," Provisional countered. "I'd rip the mike out of Bob Costas' hands and say into the camera, very sincerely, 'I'd just very much like to thank (pause) my sweet butt for being so good! Nobody's hittin' these shots but me, you fools! You see anybody blockin' for me? Catching balls at the wall? Throwin' me a pass? It's just me out here, by myself, home slice, and I am flat-out a witch with these here Pings. I can do stuff with these things that would've gotten me buried up to my eyes in the desert during the Middle Ages!'
Well thank goodness it's no longer the Middle Ages, but I don't see why that means why we can't bury this fucker in sand up to his eyes. This "home slice" is a "flat out witch with these here Pings." Read that sentence again. No I don't care that he's being facetious, Provisional is a bad man. A very bad man.
I remained unmoved.
Really? You're not impressed by your friends? I am. But if you aren't impressed with them, then why did you write this incredibly terrible article? What's your angle, Rickles?
"And that night?" added Two Down, standing on the table now. "I'd go to Ricky Barnes' hotel room at 3 in the morning and be very sincere and contrite and go: 'Sorry to come by so late. But I just wanted to apologize for my behavior this afternoon on the 18th green. I really want to take this opportunity to say how sorry I am that (pause) you're such a gag artist!' Then I'd hold up the trophy, polish it on my butt and say, 'Take a look at how shiny it is! Really, look close. What do you see? A loser!!! Don't worry, though. I hear the food's great on the Nationwide Tour!'"
If this article was a song, it would be an acapella version of "Boom Boom Pow" by the Black Eyed Peas.
Hoover insisted he'd "get a stepladder out and cut down the flag, like they do in basketball. I'd get up there with a pair of scissors, cut one little piece off, climb back down, pretend I was handing the scissors to the guy behind me in line -- which was just me again -- and climb back up, until the thing was off. Then I'd dig the entire cup out with all the turf around it and stick it in my bag, as a keepsake."
I would club you with a four iron. And when people applauded my achievement, I would bow gracefully and then walk away. Because I have dignity.
"I'd take my 3-iron out and have my caddie kneel before me and I'd knight him like I was the queen," Provisional decided
Ok, I know it's late in the game, but what is the point of all this? Why did Rick Reilly decide to write all this down? Which editor let this happen? This isn't sports, these aren't athletes, these aren't funny people. If I was an editor and I received this, I would spit in it and hand it back. Then I would make the speech that the principal gave after Adam Sandler's speech on the Industrial Revolution in Billy Madison. You know the one that ends "may god have mercy on your soul".
Two Down added: "Then I'd have my agent come out and hand out those ugly T-shirts and hats that all the NBA and college champion teams hand out the second they win the game. Only it would just be a picture of me on the shirts and hats, along with the phrase: '2009 U.S. Open Champion, Suckers!' in big swirly lettering. And then my caddie and I would wear them and we'd hug and fake taking each other's pictures with fake digital cameras."
Not a single idea that these guys presented has been original. Every last one has been pilfered from somewhere else. Family Guy, JR Smith, the Cavs pre-game, Joe Horn's cell phone celebration. Rick Reilly and his group of golfing assassins suck.
There was finally quiet. They seemed to be spent and satisfied, so I spoke up at last.
Can you picture it? Light beam shining down, angellic humming in the background, the voice of reason. Rick Reilly speaks.
"Yeah, that Lucas Glover's a real tool," I said.
You're a tool. Don't care if it was too easy.
"By the way, what'd you guys shoot today?"
"103," said Two Down.
I don't golf, but I'm not impressed by that score. Not half as impressed as I was with all the things Two Down would do after he won the US Open.
"111," said Provisional, "with one backside mulligan. And two kicks."
You suck worse than Two Down.
"137," said Hoover. "Net."
You also suck.
I paused and looked at them, palms up.
They all just blinked back at me.
Irony is lost on The Chops.
Where is the irony, Rickles? Is it ironic that these guys are talking about all the things they would do if the won the US Open even though they suck at golf? Is that the opposite of what you would expect? Because based on the way they talk, I would expect these guys to suck at golf. The irony here, Mr. Reilly, is that you are a professional writer. That really is the exact opposite of what I would expect after reading this article.
You just won the U.S. Open. Act like it!
You'd never know Lucas Glover is a champ by the way he acts
You mean he acts like a classless buffoon in what is supposed to be a gentleman game? A game where JP Hayes turned himself in over inadvertently using the wrong ball, thus costing himself a PGA tour card when nobody would have known the difference? No, you Rick Reilly, are advocating that he act like a jackass.
Two Down O'Connor, World's Most Avid Golf Gambler, was watching replays of Lucas Glover winning the U.S. Open and was severely disgruntled.
Two Down O'Connor? Really? That's his name? Was he drinking cheap scotch in an old western saloon with a floozie on his lap? I'm not impressed if he wasn't. Also, who the hell is enough of a sociopath to gamble on golf?
"Look at this!" Two Down said as he pointed at Glover, who was politely accepting the trophy on the 18th green at Bethpage Black. "I mean look how boring he is! He looks like he was just named Proctology Patient of the Year."
James Boyle, the actual Proctology Patient of the Year, had to be played off the stage at this year's American Proctology Awards because his speech was so long. He was clearly excited and happy to be there. Two Down O'Connor doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about.
I barely arched an eyebrow. Two Down is the leader of our Saturday morning foursome -- The Chops -- and you do not want to give him a foothold.
That's a very esoteric statement. Why would anyone care?
"If I won a U.S. Freaking Open, I'd go absolutely electroshock, three-alarm, bat-guano nuts!" he continued. "I'd race around the green like I was on fire! I'd French kiss the old lady scorekeeper! I'd climb up the TV tower and swan dive into the crowd!"
THEN I WOULD CHUG THREE NATTY LIGHTS 'CUZ I'M THE FUCKING BOSS!!!!!!@!!!
I did not so much as twitch an eyebrow.
Perhaps you should have told Two Down to shut up. Then we wouldn't have this article.
"Well, why not? In tennis, when Roger Federer wins a major, he falls backward like he just got poleaxed. If this were football, the guy would be doing the electric chicken right in front of the other team's bench, thumping his chest and taking a video of himself with his other hand. Hell, Ochocinco might stage a Broadway musical right then and there."
1. This is not football.
2. The electric chicken, in the terms you are thinking of it, does not exist. You just combined the electric slide, a dance typically performed to Gloria Gaynor's 1980 classic "I Will Survive", and the funky chicken, which is what JR Smith did in front of the Lakers Bench in this year's Western Conference Finals. This is what pops up when you search electric chicken on google.
3. The last sentence is a lame ripoff of an even lamer Family Guy skit where Peter Griffin breaks into a Broadway musical after scoring a touchdown. How pathetic are you when you're stealing ideas from Family Guy?
Another Chop -- Provisional -- hollered in from the euchre table.
Why do all of your friend's have assassin like monikers? What's your moniker? Shadowtrap? The PUNisher? Baron Von Killface? Rickles? I bet it's Rickles.
"He's right! If I won the U.S. Open, I'd pick up the flagstick and fire it like a Tommy gun at the crowd. I'd have secretly hidden my cell phone in the hole and when the final putt went in, I'd answer it: 'This is the 2009 U.S. Open champion speaking. Which means you are not the 2009 U.S. Open champion. Sucks to be you!' I'd make my caddie give me a piggyback ride and I'd whip him like a jockey on a horse. I'd lay my bag on the ground, straddle it and then paddle with my putter. I'd waltz myself around the green like it really was the dance floor!"
If I were a fan watching you do this, I would plug my ipod into the loudspeaker and kick your ass to a soundtrack. Perhaps Asia's "Heat Of The Moment". Is that enough 80's references? No it's not, because I want to be the next Bill Simmons.
This captured the attention of a third Chop -- Hoover, so named because he sucks worse than an entire vacuum plant -- and he jumped in with both cleats.
What does Hoover suck at? Golf? Clog dancing? Life in general? Every group has that one guy who just generally sucks. This group seems to have many of those guys.
"If I just beat 155 guys, I'd be cocky as hell, like other jocks," Hoover said. "I'd extend my hand to the guy I'd just beaten like I was going to shake it and then, when he started to grab it, I'd pull it back. Psych! When the guy in the blazer came out with the winner's check, I'd snatch his toupee off and fling it like a Frisbee."
Bro, bro. Listen, Bro. BRO!! OK, I would totally WRECK SHIT UP! I would eat three Big Macs while drinking a Busch Light while giving it doggy style to Tiger Woods's wife on the 6th tee, Ok? Why the 6th tee? BECAUSE THAT'S HOW I DO!
"No, no," Provisional countered. "I'd rip the mike out of Bob Costas' hands and say into the camera, very sincerely, 'I'd just very much like to thank (pause) my sweet butt for being so good! Nobody's hittin' these shots but me, you fools! You see anybody blockin' for me? Catching balls at the wall? Throwin' me a pass? It's just me out here, by myself, home slice, and I am flat-out a witch with these here Pings. I can do stuff with these things that would've gotten me buried up to my eyes in the desert during the Middle Ages!'
Well thank goodness it's no longer the Middle Ages, but I don't see why that means why we can't bury this fucker in sand up to his eyes. This "home slice" is a "flat out witch with these here Pings." Read that sentence again. No I don't care that he's being facetious, Provisional is a bad man. A very bad man.
I remained unmoved.
Really? You're not impressed by your friends? I am. But if you aren't impressed with them, then why did you write this incredibly terrible article? What's your angle, Rickles?
"And that night?" added Two Down, standing on the table now. "I'd go to Ricky Barnes' hotel room at 3 in the morning and be very sincere and contrite and go: 'Sorry to come by so late. But I just wanted to apologize for my behavior this afternoon on the 18th green. I really want to take this opportunity to say how sorry I am that (pause) you're such a gag artist!' Then I'd hold up the trophy, polish it on my butt and say, 'Take a look at how shiny it is! Really, look close. What do you see? A loser!!! Don't worry, though. I hear the food's great on the Nationwide Tour!'"
If this article was a song, it would be an acapella version of "Boom Boom Pow" by the Black Eyed Peas.
Hoover insisted he'd "get a stepladder out and cut down the flag, like they do in basketball. I'd get up there with a pair of scissors, cut one little piece off, climb back down, pretend I was handing the scissors to the guy behind me in line -- which was just me again -- and climb back up, until the thing was off. Then I'd dig the entire cup out with all the turf around it and stick it in my bag, as a keepsake."
I would club you with a four iron. And when people applauded my achievement, I would bow gracefully and then walk away. Because I have dignity.
"I'd take my 3-iron out and have my caddie kneel before me and I'd knight him like I was the queen," Provisional decided
Ok, I know it's late in the game, but what is the point of all this? Why did Rick Reilly decide to write all this down? Which editor let this happen? This isn't sports, these aren't athletes, these aren't funny people. If I was an editor and I received this, I would spit in it and hand it back. Then I would make the speech that the principal gave after Adam Sandler's speech on the Industrial Revolution in Billy Madison. You know the one that ends "may god have mercy on your soul".
Two Down added: "Then I'd have my agent come out and hand out those ugly T-shirts and hats that all the NBA and college champion teams hand out the second they win the game. Only it would just be a picture of me on the shirts and hats, along with the phrase: '2009 U.S. Open Champion, Suckers!' in big swirly lettering. And then my caddie and I would wear them and we'd hug and fake taking each other's pictures with fake digital cameras."
Not a single idea that these guys presented has been original. Every last one has been pilfered from somewhere else. Family Guy, JR Smith, the Cavs pre-game, Joe Horn's cell phone celebration. Rick Reilly and his group of golfing assassins suck.
There was finally quiet. They seemed to be spent and satisfied, so I spoke up at last.
Can you picture it? Light beam shining down, angellic humming in the background, the voice of reason. Rick Reilly speaks.
"Yeah, that Lucas Glover's a real tool," I said.
You're a tool. Don't care if it was too easy.
"By the way, what'd you guys shoot today?"
"103," said Two Down.
I don't golf, but I'm not impressed by that score. Not half as impressed as I was with all the things Two Down would do after he won the US Open.
"111," said Provisional, "with one backside mulligan. And two kicks."
You suck worse than Two Down.
"137," said Hoover. "Net."
You also suck.
I paused and looked at them, palms up.
They all just blinked back at me.
Irony is lost on The Chops.
Where is the irony, Rickles? Is it ironic that these guys are talking about all the things they would do if the won the US Open even though they suck at golf? Is that the opposite of what you would expect? Because based on the way they talk, I would expect these guys to suck at golf. The irony here, Mr. Reilly, is that you are a professional writer. That really is the exact opposite of what I would expect after reading this article.
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