Monday Miscellany: Double-you Tee Eff

I'm not even gonna get into this. Just watch:




(courtesy of The Big Lead)
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Tuesday Tidbits: Damn, Homes

We've never claimed to be cutting edge, so I'm unsure how old this video is, but I saw it on Sunday and decided that you should peep it, too:

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

It doesn't mean I'll be watchin' any "Jersey Shore" anytime soon, and I ain't, by any stretch, condoning girl punching; I leave that up to the roster of the Denver Broncos. Anyhoo, ol' girl got knocked the f**k out!
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Allow Me to Be the First...

...to say that when the Chiefs run the Wildcat Formation, or when Kolby Smith is hurt and Larry Johnson is inactive, that this KC offense is called Charles in Charge...that is all.

(Update: Charles finished with 100+ rushing yards, a first against Tampa this season.)

(Update II: Ha! I beat The Star to it.)
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Baseball In The Daytime: 8-16-07

Whereas yesterday we highlighted the jumbled mess that is the AL wild card tussle, today we turn our gaze back to the shittiest of divisions, the NL Central.

Leading off are the Cardinals and Brewers under the open dome of Miller Park at 12:05 Mountain. St. Louise's victory last night pulled your defending World Champions within three and a half of the division-leading Brew Crew, which is preposterous. The Cardinals have been horrible this season, and they just might do exactly what they did last year, provided their AL World Series opponent commits seventeen errors a game. Adam Wainwright engages Dave Bush on XM 187, and DirecTV is once again not cooperating with a schedule. Radio's better anyway--these teams are both pretty rough on the old eyeballs.

At 12:20, the Reds visit the Friendly Confines to finish their series with the Cubs. Lou Piniella's boys ave been playing like ass for a week or two, but thanks to Milwaukee's concurrent skid they're only a game and a half out. They send Jason Marquis out today to shut down the Reds' bats, while Bobby Livingston does the same for Cincinnati, on XM 188.

The final day game pits two teams that have nothing to do with the NL Central, although if they played there either would probably run away with it. As it stands, the White Sox and A's are stuck in the infinitely stiffer American League and are thus playing out the string. The pitching matchup is juicy, however. Javier Vazquez takes on Dan Haren in a classic gunfight. I'll defend Vazquez until the day I die, because he's a good fucking pitcher. His ERA is 3.65, he throws a ton of innings, and he's seventh in the league in K's. If his team could score at all he'd have a much better record than his current 10-6. He could also cut down on the number of jacks he yields, but now I'm nitpicking. Haren is just flat out awesome. Tune in on XM 180 at 1:35.

And finally, a note about the Colorado Rockies. They won again last night and sit 5 back in the NL West and 2 behind in the wild card. But Aaron Cook has some kind of rib cage issue and will miss a handful of starts. Feel free to kick me square in the balls at any time. They've traded for Ramon Ortiz, who may be a find in the Rodrigo Lopez, sucked-in-the-AL-excels-in-the-NL vein. There's also chatter about David Fucking Wells setting up shop at Coors. Please. Square in the balls.
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Baseball In The Daytime: 5-17-07

Well, here it is kids: Thursday. The absolute wheelhouse of weekday baseball, as travelling teams take the field under glorious sunshine in order to hit the road a few hours early. Because, you know, that charter flight with leather seats and hookers (but no beer!) is so grueling.

Hey, I ain't complaining. In just about an hour (10:05 Mountain) the Twins and Indians will play ball, with a pretty compelling pitching matchup to boot. You may have heard of this kid named Johan Santana, and today he'll face young Fausto Carmona. The Tribe has used Carmona as a stopgap No. 5 starter with Cliff Lee and now Jake Westbrook injured, and all he's done is go 4-1 with an ERA of 3.12. He's also wearing the prestigious jersey of Making Noises For Moises, the world's greatest fantasy baseball team. Go get 'em Fausto! You can find this game on DirecTV channel 734 if you have Extra Innings and on the XM at 181.

The planned ESPN primetime game last night pitted the division leaders of the AL Central and East, but Mother Nature said fuck that shit. And so, the Tigers and Red Sox will play two today, with the first game scheduled for 10:35 in the a.m. Mike Maroth tangles with Julian Tavarez, and it will still be on ESPN (no word on HD), and XM 177.

In the 11 o'clock hour we get Atlanta (James) and the Nats (Chico) on DirecTV 247 (I think that's plain old TBS) and XM 183. Five minutes later the Cubbies (Guzman) take on the Mets (Vargas) on WGN and XM 184.

Today's noon game is the White Sox and Yankees, who split a doubleheader yesterday. This one gets the typical Yankee treatment for DeSalvo/Garland, with the prime 176 slot on XM and the Extra Innings double-dip (737 in standard definition, 731 in HD for Superfan subscribers).

At 1:05 you get Milwaukee (Sheets) at Philly (Garcia) on 742 (DTV) and 185 (XM), and Arizona (L. Hernandez) at Colorado (Fogg) on XM 188. Finally, at 1:35, the Royals (Elarton) and A's (Braden) battle for the memories of old Kansas City baseball fans. And just like back when the A's were in KC, there's no TV, just old-time radio--albeit beamed from space robots (XM 178). Read more

Baseball In The Daytime: 5-16-07

So the rainout on the South Side of Chicago last night has resulted in an unexpected treasure: day baseball! Sure, it's the Yankees, but still. The New York Americans will face off against the Pale Hose at noon-oh-five Mountain time.

The pitching matchup is Mike Mussina versus John Danks, the rook Chicago acquired from Texas in the Brandon McCarthy deal. Looks like a mismatch, even if Moose is a purported bigot. The Yankees stand at 17-19, eight games back of the Red Sox in the AL East, while the 18-16 White Sox are four games south of the Tigers in the Central.

As for the broadcast info, XM Radio subscribers can tune in to channel 176. 176 is the first of many MLB play-by-play stations, and the Yankees always seem to get the prime slot there. If you have Extra Innings on DirecTV, I think the game will be on channel 743--their guide hasn't updated with the rescheduled game, and that's the channel the night game of the doubleheader is on. I assume you can also catch it on YES, channel 622 as well. No word as to whether DirecTV will put the game on in hi-def on either 95 or 731.

Or, you can always catch the game on the MLB.TV subscription service. If you haven't signed up yet but enjoy to space out at your desk for hours at a time, a few tips: One, don't get the Premium package. It promises higher-resolution video but to my eyes there's no difference. Two, I've experienced really spotty streaming video on wireless connections. That may be the 700k "Premium" bandwidth issue, but when I've plugged in it's better. Three, there is a "Boss Button," similar to the one that appeared on CBS' online NCAA Tournament coverage (this one's a mock letter, while CBS had a generic spreadsheet). I think these things are fucking hilarious, and I'm sure they'll eventually be litigated out of existence. Perhaps we can add one to the HoG, so y'all can blow off more productive work time.

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Say It Ain't So, Drew

Since the Open Letter has become the style of the times, I'd like to post one to Drew Bledsoe, who announced his retirement. There is clamoring from Lone Reader for an NHL playoff preview, which we will not provide. Dude, you live in fucking Canada. Doesn't someone up there do that shit? The playoffs already started, anyway--that ship has sailed.

I kid, I kid. We love our Reader(s). I'm sure Bankmeister is busily flunking out of school in order to deliver his predictions for this riveting spectacle. Don't forget his previous ruminations on this topic (what, like anything has changed?). And rest assured that I, your favorite HoG Farmer, will publish my own indepth analysis of why the Colorado Avalanche will capture their third Stanley Cup (what? you can't be serious! that's never happened!). It will be very positive, because I love the ice hockey and America Junior.

But back to Drew, who probably loved those last few paragraphs because he often lives near Canada himself. Dude, what are you doing? Retirement? How can you hang it up? Just because kids keep taking your gig? Trust me, Bledsoe, you've still got it. No one can freeze a rope like you, sir. Well, almost no one, but he's a superhuman sex machine. Your class and composure in the face of adversity is a beacon to all of those up-and-coming players who view you as a role model.

By the way, is it "role model" or "roll model?" I've seen it both ways, but that’s probably because I read a lot of sportswriting and people that write about sports are fucking retarded.

So please, Drew, reconsider. There are many, many, many teams that could use the services of a mistake-proof, level-headed leader such as yourself. Don’t worry about some other punk stealing your job—none of those moves have worked out. You're a smart guy, Drew--for the love of Mike, you matriculated at Washington State--and you're the prototype 21st-century QB. You're mobile, elusive, and in possession of a thick skin. It ain't time for golf just yet.

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Thank God The Masters Is Over

I suppose we need to wrap this bad bitch up. The Masters Invitational has concluded, and the final round showdown between Booze and Slinger-Re was somethin' spesh. The big surprise is not that Booze prevailed 62-64, but that Tiger Woods did not perform the heavy lifting for this band of heavy drinkers. No, that was left to John Rollins and Rory Sabbatini. To the highlights:

We were all square through five, when former Masters champ Mike Weir dropped a birdie on the sixth hole. Slinger-Re extended the lead to two strokes when both Retief Goosen and David Toms birdied the seventh. Booze took a stroke back on the eighth with Rory Sabbatini’s ridiculous birdie putt, and the fellows went to the turn with Slinger-Re up one.

At the tenth, Toms snared another birdie to push that lead to two strokes. But Booze’s John Rollins took one back on the tough par-four 11th. Both sides parred the 12th, and Tiger Woods tied the score with his eagle on 13. Shockingly, this was Tiger’s only best-ball score for Booze.

Stewart Cink contributed a birdie to the Boozy effort on 14, his only score. This gave Booze his first lead of the day. The two finalists matched scores until 18, when Rollins notched another birdie to give Booze a two-shot win.

The young man took home a couple of bills, assuming any of you deadbeats pay up. Back with more later on everyone’s favorite topic, the Boston Red Sox. By the way, did anyone notice that Zach Johnson’s face is all fucked up? I think his mom fed him applesauce burritos with a slingshot when he was an infant.

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Breakfast In Augusta

And we're off, in this cheap desperate ploy for more readers. If you're affiliated with the Masters Invitational pool and are reading this blog for the first time, welcome. We hope you're not offended by our course language, blatant disregard for for the rules of journalism (and grammar) and consistent wrongness in prediction...actually we're not. We hope you are offended, new readers. Fuck you and the mule you rode in on. We hope you hate the HoG and never, ever come back. Readers are a needless accesory to this endeavor.

Quickly, I must address the last post by our blog's administrator, the (redacted). I have no objection to his making sport of the NFL's greatest coach. But the photo was in very poor taste. Yes, that fat lady did show up for Denver Broncos cheerleader tryouts. But so did these. And these. And these, with The Man in back. Smokin'. Just because one tubby tried to make the squad, that's no reason to denigrate the lovely ladies who don the orange and blue. Of course, none of these broads hold a candle to the Kansas City Chiefs Cheerleaders.

Anyhoo, back to the links. The Masters Invitational was, of course dominated by the selections of one Eldrick Woods, the world's No. 1 player and a pretty fair puller of tail. Tiger appeared on eight of the 12 entries, but only three participants elected to start him for Rounds One and Two. Savin' the big gun for the weekend, I assume. Best of luck with that strategy, gents, and we'll see you this afternoon.

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Other Magazines (and by magazines I mean anything but) the HoG Hates

To say enough already redefines understatement. What is not understated is how fricking sick and tired I am of seeing pukefaces like this guy (gay manshades always a must) playing flippin' cards on flippin' television. What. The fuck. Seriously. Please. Make it stop.

I enjoy "Everyone Loves Raymond" reruns about 65,000 times more than even thinking about cards on television. In fact, there are many, many things I enjoy watching on television more than professional poker. If ever there was a better lead-up to a top ten list, I've not yet found it.

Top Ten Television Programs Better Than Poker

10. Star Trek

I've never once seen an episode of this epic program. Even in the days when I inhabited the splendid canyons of the small Colorado town known as Glen Haven, and our television could pick up a fuzzy Denver news station and a Laramie, Wyoming channel that loved to air Star Trek (my roommates -- three girls, two guys, believe it or not -- would gather 'round every evening for back-to-back Trek episodes), I would hole up in my room and not smoke the non-illegal contents similar to secret compartments of a certain Atlanta Falcons quarterback's water bottle, and listen to music. I will go to my grave with pride having never seen an episode of this show and it is far better than cards on television. Even when money's involved.

9. Golf

I used to have a hard time with golf being on television, especially, when as a kid, I'd want my Pops to shoot hoops with me or take me to the batting cages and he would rather watch golf. Talk about a sedative. Since being swirled into the conglomeration of "sports" a la Every Sport Possible Network, the amount of televised golf enraged me further. And I still don't watch it. Probably never will. Even if Lefty's and Tiger's wives spread marshmallow fluff all over each other's labias, and then cleansed one another while their husbands chipped and putted, I wouldn't watch it. Okay. Maybe I would. But I would so not like it.

8. Dawson's Creek

I don't know what this show is, who was on it, when it was aired, or what it was about. But it winds up in a lot of punch lines and, therefore, is way better than cards on television.

7. Curling

This, and I use this term loosely, sport is so totally gay. But at least they move. Do poker players ever even get up to piss? I think your entry fee must include a bucket to urinate in. Maybe they should get these athletes hammered before the matches. Then maybe there'd be some fighting or debauchery or something. I'm not sure if curling is ever on television when not featured in the Olympics, but it'd be a sure-fire guarantee to be more interesting than geeks with shades exchanging chips.

6. Womens Sports

Give me one of 'em, give me all of 'em. WNBA, NCAA women's hoops, fast pitch softball, women's hockey, I don't care. I'd have to train myself to sleep with my eyes open to count it as watching, but it would rule. Sleep totally trumps cards on television.

5. Sex & the City

There're two things I know about this show: a) chicks talk about banging and get banged on it, and b) chicks get together to watch it, thus freeing up the man from familial obligation. If that ain't better than nerds playing Hold 'Em, I don't know what is.

4. Scrambled Church Programs

You know those channels that always have hard-to-hear/see religious broadcasts? Sure you do. They're in that string of channels you always blast past to get to something real. I'd much rather get my fuzzy God on than watch poker on ESPN.

3. Soap Operas

Nothing spells awful broadcasting better than an early afternoon of television. But if you're watching a soap, you at least know you're not doing what you're supposed to, i.e. work. That, by default claims precedence over broadcasting a high-tempered match of cards.

2. The NBA

The number one source for ruining sports, the ideals of today's youth, the concept of a college education, and Kevin Harlan stomps out cards in a head-to-head match.

1. Arena Football

Not only is this actually, retarded as it might be, a sport, it's far more entertaining than watching people waste their lives at a hexagonal table. And when I say entertaining, I mean specifically for the blind/hearing impaired.

What a perfect segueway to my next thing of hate.

What better to embody a great concept ruined than the AFL. What was wrong with letting the NFL have its Europe league and not watching all that great Canadian football? This league licks sweaty sac. Perennially. I'm not interested in ignoring a good idea like offsides. I couldn't care less if each team scores 50 points. And I certainly don't give a fuck if the freaking wall hurts. Shut the fuck up. Stop wasting space in my newspaper. Please. Act like the plague and die quickly and in mass numbers. Wait. What's that you say? A former Kansas City Chief owns the Brigade? Well, maybe I should not be so ignorant. Maybe I should go support his club since he used to play for the best franchise in the nation. Who is it? Oh. Right. Captain Ass Clown. Sure. I'll support him and his enemy ring-laden fingers. Just as soon as I get done scouring my retinas with a rusty stainless steel scrubber.





Surely, lone reader must be thinking, there can't be room for any more hate in you. Oh, but there is, lone reader. There is. And it's this pig of a woman:

I beg you. Please. Die. Well, not really. We wouldn't actually want anyone to die. That would be awful and inhumane. Instead of dying, how about moving far away, as in to the proverbial ends of the earth, where you will no longer taint, alter, or ruin things the rest of the world considers funny. Because you, Miss Lampanelli, are the antithesis of funny. For those of you not interested in stereotypical, generalized, offensive statements, please turn your head for the following lines. Or just skip the entire paragraph that follows.

I've been watching stand-up comedy for a little over 21 years. I watched Ellen deGeneres on stage before she could legally drink, I think. I listened to the, how shall I put this, unique voice of Judy Tenuda. I stayed tuned in to the two or three times that Rita Rudner graced a stage with her presence. I've watched the waves of the new comediennes come and go on Comedy Central. I've clicked on their links on the Internets. And I'm far from an expert on this bit, but suffice it to say that women, as comics, are not funny. Forgive me. There's no other way to say that. But it's the cold, hard truth. God, the cliches are coming out of me like PBR shits. For real, though. I gotta give it to them for continuing to try. They deserve props for that. I'm a believer that women can do anything men can. With an asterisk, that is. Perhaps I will see the day when I experience gut-busting laughs like the ones good comedians (and by good comedians, I include only those with testicles -- unless LL has male genitalia, which she might -- in which case I'll rephrase to include those that appear to be men) deliver. But I doubt it. Gravely.

But Miss Lampanelli is the newest thing. And she embodies everything not funny. In her latest CC special "Dirty Girl," she did make one funny. It was a crack about a certain ethnicity's tipping habits. After the joke, she went right back into her universe of non-funny. And I'm here to tell you that she must go. Away. Now. Having said that, lone reader, I will now close the chapter of hate. For today.

As soon as I'm done voicing one last beef. This is total and complete horseshit. I too can craftily create good places to rub one out when not within the comforts of my own home. I like free burritos. I can coach basketball. What the fuck? Just when I didn't need to hate any more, I have to add a crappy Mexican restaurant chain to the list. Christ. Forgive me. I'm done. And I must now go pay hard-earned dollars for a flippin' burrito. Maybe the beans won't be too runny, and Zach Greinke will be there. With his special-mouthed girlfriend. That could totally cleanse me of hatred.

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