My Sports Life is a Rock Hip Hop Song: "Bionix"

Yo. How it be? I can't remember the last time we pulled out one of these features. I'm not even sure our archives are set up to go that far back. Like most of our series at one time or another, though, we're way overdue, and so we hope you enjoy this attempt to meld sports and music. Chances are you'll think it's super-dope lame, so if that's the case I'll apologize in advance. Truth be told, in case you were wondering, this song popped on the other day from the ol' iPod, and I'd just been wondering how long it's gonna take for De La to put out A.O.I. III. I mean, Christ -- ain't like we been waitin' eight years already. So, yeah. It was that and the fact that I couldn't bear to look at Cedric Benson's face anymore.

So this post goes out to the possibility of the new regime getting win number two this weekend when Norv and Marm' come to town. Rock it.

"Welcome to the second installment..
Y'all know my name so we ain't gotta get into alla that
Y'all know the deal
This is KC Chiefs part two, and we call this one Pialey
And as y'all always know, we gon' hit y'all with that KC shit
Yeah.. yeah..



Uh (better) yea (better, stronger)
Yea (better, stronger, faster)
Yea..

[Scott]



Ladies and gentlemen, we in the trench again
Makin' it a new team for you, and y'all deserve one, too
I'm introducin it, throw a little juice in it
Got rid of all that bullshit,



hope you weren't too used to it.

It's been a minute now, only a minute now
A little re-evaluatin', hope you feel me now.
I'm on some new me, focused on the new tree



Tryin to shake the money off the limbs for all them salary.

[Carl]



I blame the fans for it, I heard demands for it
Left for USA Football, they holdin' out they hands for it
Went to the youth, these kids are tryin' ta' dance for it
Ask for it after Todd brings you out of the break

[Todd]

Before we go any further, we wanna send a special thanks...

...to all those folks out there that been supportin KC since '89...

...Now that's a long time...

...Overseas, city to city, state to state...

...Yeah, we gon' keep bringin it live to you...

[Matt]



Unlike these underground MC's who rock for heads



We include the throat chest arms and legs.
No need throw a massive party to show you I'm here for a Lombardi.
I cultivate moves larger than that
And I don't ball too much, ya' dig
I gotta ball and chain at my crib who want my ass home
My heart beat USC metronome,
But I can adapt to where I'm at.
And even though I'll toss it sick to beat the blue,



I'm not a crip
So unlike Donkey fans I won't salute to look hip



But if I had to join a gang I'd join the Nation
Me, you, 48 of 50 states makes a huge creation
That drive cross style-country style, drivin' the short-bus mile



Hot and mild and I don't like my Sake tame
Drink a dozen cans of Life no weight I gain
We them champ type dishin' The 53 to make you love

...yeah kids...

Just a little taste how we gon' get things started in a minute
Sit back, get your gear on straight
Whether you're ridin' in a Escalade or a Pinto son, turn that shit up
Oh remember championship II comin soon, on some LJ shit
Yeah -- we about to get this shit poppin'..."
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Tradition-al Side Affects: Then When He Leave for Nashville, He Be Talkin' Again

I'm not sure who should be saying, "That's my bike, punk!" in all of this mess, but if there's one thing to be said about being on the other side of the esteemed-excellence fence, it's that it sure is worth a chuckle when the collective orange-and-blue panties get bunched up. To the chagrin of some, that chuckle qualifies as a guffaw when said bunchy britches stay that way for three days and counting. And much like the rest of the events that unfolded, and eventually started this massive wedgie, everyone's got two cents, even in this economy. After the jump, we'll stop by a few of our favorite tubular reading holes to see just what it is folks be sprayin' about ol' Screamin' Jay from Vandy. Of course, we won't be able to get any quotes from the college freshman now wearing the Denver Motorola, but based on the efforts of the more-professional reporters of the world, we'll at least hope to scoop up a hint.

Let's tackle this now-overblown (Editor's Note: Or is it?) issue with some sense of chronology, mixed with a heavy dose of humor. If you haven't seen the most recent Marmalard/Cutlerfucker post over at Kissing Suzy Kolber, it is a must for any who have seen their previous Philip Rivers pieces. Hell, even for those who haven't, it's pretty flippin' rad. My segments are: "Ooooohhh Josh, Josh. That’s gold, man. That’s a shart and a half. Never knew you were funny like that. Cutler for Rivers? Sure, and then you can dip my wife’s tits in apple butter and scrape ‘em on your toast." and "CUTLERFUCKER’S GONNA BE THE END OF YOU! HE’LL PUT THE SULKFACE CHICKEN WING ON YOUR CAREER! 38 COACHES AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SEA, ALL THANKS TO THAT FROWNYFACE TEABAGGER!"

Okay. Screw the order schtick. Fast forward to today, where this gem was posted over at With Leather. If you're feeling too lazy to click and read, allow me to summarize: Dan Patrick had Scott Hastings on his show. Hastings works for the Denver Nuggets in some modicum of television analysis, and he had some choice words for the nearly traded Denver quarterback. Words that look precisely similar to "arrogant little punk" and "he's a little bitch." The capper was this:

"When Josh McDaniel was introduced as head coach, Cutler didn’t even appear at the press conference. Hastings thinks that as the team leader, Cutler should’ve done everything in his power to appear there to support the new coach. He is, after all, the team leader."

There's also this tidbit penned by danzinski over at Pacman Jonesin':

"Dear Jay: They didn’t trade you. You don’t have to refer to your career with the Broncos in the past tense. At this rate you’re going to supplant Brett Favre as the most hang-dog, sad-sack quarterback of all time. Oh, one note on that: Bus Cook also represents Cutler. Bus may have hooked Jay up with Brett for some lessons in how to spew and blubber. Maybe Brett also taught Jay his other favorite bit: Forcing a team to give him what he wants by retiring. We await Jay’s announcement with breathless anticipation."

All of these details have BroncosCountry a bit shaken up, as Mr. East at BroncoTalk reports:

"This feeling is because of the ambiguity surrounded by this whole situation, you’re not sure who cheated you. Was it Cutler who asked for the trade earlier? Was it McDaniels and Xanders who asked first? Why can’t Brandon Marshall stay out of cuffs? Why can’t Cutler meet with McDaniels? This drama never happened before. It’s not just one person’s fault, it’s a collective group of mistrials that are tearing apart at the soul of your fandom."

Now, everyone's got to assume that McDanahan and Cutlerfucker will patch this up and start thinking about O.T.As. In the bizarre possibility that they don't, Bill Williamson looks at possible options for Young No. 6, which include Chicago, Detroit, Minnesota, Tampa Bay, San Francisco and the J-E-T-S Jets, Jets, Jets.

The boys over at Mile High Report have acquired information from Denver's CBS4 that there will be no trade involving Cutlerfucker. It has been said by an alleged Broncos insider (Gary Miller) that Mosh and Jay Jams will "will have a face-to-face meeting" "sometime next week when the quarterback is due to return to Colorado." They added some other words from a Broncos spokesman (Patrick Smyth) that hammered home an owner/coach-stamped message saying that the Broncos are not going to trade Jay Cutler. Period.

And hey -- that's what we expected to hear all along. What we don't expect to hear is Drew Rosenhausesque crap falling from Cutler's agent Bus Cook, who dropped this doozy yesterday:

"I do think under the circumstances it was very poor on their part if in fact they were trying to trade Jay...You don't know what's true and what's not true. Depends on what you read. It's unfortunate because Jay was getting in the groove out there in Denver, and all this just threw him out of kilter."

Frankly, most of this hype isn't helping. The Denver Post has published quotes from Nugget Carmelo Anthony, who said, "You got to learn that it is a business, especially with him... (Cutler) has been the guy who they've been saying could be the next (John) Elway perhaps." And Anthony's coach, George Karl chimed in as well: "Jay's got to understand there have been a lot greater players than him that have been talked about in trades. When the contracts are so big, every player is probably discussed." Apparently, Karl thought ill of this Cutler comment to the Post: "I don't play for the coaches anyway; I play for teammates. As long as we keep the guys we've got, I'll go out there and play."

In the end, consolidated papers, basketball figures, and stupid bloggers (Note: Catches reflection of self in monitor.) should just keep their mouths shut, their fingers idle. At least, I suppose that's the moral of the story for somebody out there.
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Friday Evening Fracas: 1-09-09

It's been a bit unorganized and free-for-allish around these parts lately, but don't fret: piece by piece, we are in fact gettin' the band back together. In due time, we'll find our circuits shorting, and our memory banks full, our very precise system of time management plundered and diminished. But that's just what keeps us going: your desire for more, and still more House of Georges originality.

In news of the non-bullshit, we've taken painful efforts to snoop around this series of tubes and find out what's goin' on out there. Come along. We won't disappoint. Too much...

Well, I'll be damned. All that gripin' I did about being a loser Kansas City fan has statistically paid off. Thanks, Mouthpiece Sports. You're the greatest.

The Big Lead draws a two-fer this evening: They think the Chiefs will get "that tackle" from the Crimson Tide, and, in extra, bonusy news, they've interviewed The Lone Reader's favorite all-time professional sports commissioner.

Yesterday, I thought Kissing Suzy Kolber had really outdone themselves. Only they can outdo themselves on consecutive days.

We haven't checked in on ol' JoePos lately. Check out this killer post on every Chiefs' fan's favorite topic, Herman Edwards.

Hugging Harold Reynolds has linked to this post today. I don't really know what's going on in it, but they call Chargers fans gay, so, uh, I'm down.

As any fan of the sports blogs knows, there's always lots of good reading material going on at Deadspin. Today's no different: They've linked to a story that suggests that Bill Romanowski wants to coach the Broncos (Editor's Note: God -- remember how I channelled you not too long ago, and begged for your heavenly assistance? I probably said something along the lines of never asking you for anything ever again. And, well, I lied. Please, if you can possibly intervene, allow Pat Bowlen to hire this man. I'm on my knees here, God.) And of course, yesterday was Jamboroo day. Get your read -- and your Kathy Ireland bikini look -- on.

Finally, Awful Announcing shows us the way to Joe Sports Fan's impeccable list of media faux pas in 2008.
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Tradition Tuesday: Even in the Wildest of Week 17s, I Imagine It Would Behoove One to Ax Somebody

The rough focus of this blog is the rivalry between the Kansas City Chiefs and the Denver Broncos. We foolishly attend games at one another's stadiums each year, a gig we've had going for eight strong seasons. And by "strong," I mean consecutive. When we're not partaking of said elegance, we're busy bringing you The Tradition, our weekly state-of-the-rivalry address.

I'd be lying if didn't admit the inspiration that the Kissing Suzy Kolber clan has given me over the last two and-a-half years, and given how spanktacular things haven't been in the AFC West these last two seasons, their efforts regarding my division foes continue to stack up each week. While I've likely put together a lot of "work" here that was inspired by the blogkkaksters over yonder, I've never quite lifted an idea of theirs with the deliberance (Editor's Note: Patent pending.) that I will display this very morning. The reason for such is two-fold: I am an uninventive sloth with no sense of originality; and 60 percent of the time, it's damn funny stuff all the time. That said, kudos, as always, to them, and good luck, tho' I wishes it upon myself, to me.

It was 2008. The wind was rustling, the air brisk and heavy. A young, insulin-pack laden, pig-faced Indiana boy, graced with an arm strength greater than Marino, Montana, and Elway combined fondled his imaginary six-shooter, his eye on a prize...

(breeze picks up a bit; music spills out of nearby saloon)



"I'm gonna rope this baby



in easier than some Santa Claus 'tang on a Saturday night..."



"Not so fas-- (leg snaps and crumbles as he goes to stand from his saloon-porch table) Oww!" (fastens stretcher out of two chairs; lays down)



"YOU BUMBLING TWATS! DON'T YOU KNOW A FUCKETY FUCK ABOUT THIS FUCKING GAME SCHEME! THAT'S NOT EVEN A REAL TROPHY. THAT'S SOME COCKAMAMIE HORSE CRAP THAT EDWARDS MADE UP TO GET HIS SORRY-ASS TEAM (makes Marmalardish finger quotes) MOTIVATED."



"Hey now, Phil. That's not very n--"

Rivers: "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU NEVER-COORDINATIN', SWEET-POTATO PIE EATIN' WORD MAKER-UPPER! CUTLERFUCKER -- DON'T YOU KNOW ANYTHING, YOU VANDERBILT DIPSTICK? WE WANT THIS ONE...



...AND THEN THIS ONE!"





(whispers to self) "Geez. Dunno what he's so mad about."

Rivers: "I HEARD THAT, YOU LITTLE GLAZED-DOUGHNUT FACED SHIT DICK! DON'T YOU EVER MURMUR UNDER YOUR BREATH ABOUT THE MARMANATOR! THE MARMANATOR IS ALL POWERFUL ALL THE TIME. HE CONTROLS THE NORV TURNER. HE CONTROLS THE MIKE SHANAHAN. HE CONTROLS THE GOODELL. HE EVE--

(earth rumbles; glasses fall from Croyle's table, shatter; Rivers and Cutler clutch nearby support beams)



"SILENCE, you pathetic bait-for-Eli fuck stain! How dare you interrupt my workout with your visions of grandeur?! You shall suffer the consequences..." (adjusts scoreboard of already decided contest, then instantly vanishes to write letter of apology to saloon owner for broken glasses)



(searches for words to describe the bone-crackling sound of his about-to-explode skull) "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"



"Hey, guys. What was that noise? Is everybody ok--" (dislocates, wrist, elbow and shoulder with interrogatory shrug) "Ouch!" (scampers at snail's pace back into saloon)



(peeks head out of saloon doors) "Yo, WonderBreads. Either uh y'all got a match?"

Cutler and Rivers: "SHADDUP!"



"Dudes! Y'all gots to see this. Check it out..."

(slowly, diligently removes killing instrument for Marmalard/Cutlerfucker slaying from within skeleton)

"Y'all are never gonna believe it. Somebody showed me this. I's laughin' for days."

(saloon side door flies open; Edwards emerges in sweater vest)

"Tyler! Hey, Tyler. It's Herman. Your head coach, Herman. You know that new fly sound you was talkin' about? Well, listen to THIS."



(mix tape hits Thigpen in temple, dropping him in the dust; weapon of destruction clanks upon a stone, shimmers in the AFC sun; Rivers spies it, makes way toward it while observing Cutler enjoying some Cool Ranch Doritos)



(tumbleweeds whip by; music inside resumes)...
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