Pacman's 2007 World Tour Hits The Big Apple...RUN!
Adam Jones sure is a popular fellow these days. All kinds of important people across the country are just dying to take a meeting with him. Detectives, investigators, prosecutors, and judges are all clamoring to get some 'alone time' with Pacman. So is NFL commissioner Roger Goodell. CBS Sportsline cited an anonymous league source who confirmed that Goodell has summoned Jones to his office in New York for a meeting on April 3rd. What's he going to do? Take his pistol way, and keep it in his desk drawer until the end of next season? The guy is on the verge of being brought up on felony charges in Vegas for being the second coming of Tony Montana. What could Roger possibly say that would make a difference? If Jones was a real gangsta' he'd march into Goodell's office, chuck his jersey at him and say, "Wash it yourself mang, I retire. I gotta look after my investments." I can understand what the commish is doing here. It's all about lip service and publicity. Just like the meeting Goodell had a few weeks back with select players and owners to discuss the league's recent 'thug life' image. The league announced today that it still needs more time to revise its conduct policy. My guess is that in two weeks Goodell will say that he still needs more time to decide Jones' fate, and that nothing will be done until he has his day(s) in court. This upcoming meeting between Jones and Goodell is a sham. Just like that little 'Three Strikes' confab Roger held last month. There is no short term solution to this problem, and scolding a baller like 'Pacman' makes no sense. People don't change. If you're an asshole today, you were more than likely one when you were 5-years old. You can't change people, but you can change policies. At least Goodell was responsible enough to notify the good people of New York a full week prior to Jones' arrival. Far be it from me to advocate profiling, but I wouldn't be opposed to New York's finest planting a GPS on him while he's in town--and assigning a tail or two. You never know, 'Pacman' could make it to Rikers Island before he even sees the inside of a Clark County court room. Stranger things have happened. I once heard about a guy who 'made it rain', allegedly bit a stripper, and may have played a role in the paralysis of another human being--all in one evening. Anything is possible.
Tuesday Night Retro Spotlight
A couple of weeks ago, in honor of baseball's return WSS posted the single greatest baseball manager rant ever. We unofficially crowned Earl Weaver the all-time King of the manager rant, with Lee Elia taking second place. That was all it took for the email to come trickling in. Out of fairness to all that disagree, here is Lee Elia's 1983 post-game tirade. The only reason that Weaver beat out Elia was due to the fact that Earl let loose during a live radio broadcast. Lee was tape delayed from the bowels of Wrigley Field, giving Chicagoland news outlets plenty of time to add bleeps. The best part of this tirade is near the end, when you hear someone starting to vacuum the office while Lee is still going off. Priceless. As with all manager rants, beware of kids and bosses before enjoying this little nugget.
First it was Danny Ainge, or at least he was the first to get popped. The league recently fined the Boston Celtics $30,000, after Ainge was spotted sitting next to Kevin Durant's mother during the Big 12 Tournament. Tuesday, a spokesman for the Charlotte Bobcats confirmed that part-owner Michael Jordan was fined $15,000 for an innocuous comment he made last week during an interview with the Charlotte Observer.
"The kid who may present that, (versatility) is the kid in Texas. (He) may have that because he has all the right signs."
I like the heavy handedness of the NBA lately when it comes to dishing out punishment. I especially like it whenever a Celtic is fined, especially in Ainge's case. As far as I'm concerned, he should be fined on a weekly basis just for being Danny Ainge. Some will argue that what Jordan said was a far cry from Ainge pulling the old 'is this seat taken?' bit. Nonetheless, he violated the NBA policy barring coaches and executives from talking about underclassmen who have yet to declare for the draft. While the league is at it they might as well just go ahead and fine the entire front office of every team that will be in the draft lottery, for even day dreaming about Durant wearing their team's jersey. In all seriousness, I understand the league's concern. It's bad enough that the 'Cats and Celts are battling it out tooth-and-nail for the league's worst record, in order to lock up a 1 in 4 chance of landing the top pick.
Manny Ramirez goes 'Hank Hill'
Manny Ramirez wants you to by his grill. Seriously. He's got it on eBay. He'll even send and autographed baseball to the winning bidder:
"Hi, I'm Manny Ramirez. I bought this AMAZING grill for about $4,000, and I used it once...But I never have the time to use it because I am always on the road. I would love to sell it and you will get an autographed ball signed by me =] Enjoy it, Manny Ramirez.
The first tip-off that his assistant wrote that, is the smiley-face emoticon. If Manny Ramirez even knows what an emoticon is, I refuse to believe that he would ever use one. Plus, I'm not buying the fact that he is selling it because he is always on the road. There's a good chance that Manny has a clause in his contract prohibiting him from being around open flames, let alone operating the damn burners. If such a stipulation doesn't exist, one should probably be added.
As with all eBay ads that get publicity, the ass-clowns of the Internet have sullied the integrity of the auction. The current bid at the time of this post is just a tad over $290,000--and climbing. I can only imagine the kind of email that Manny's poor assistant is having to sift through right about now.
Tuesday Night Retro Spotlight
With the round of 'Sweet Sixteen' getting underway this week, we take a look back at one of the best finishes to a 'March Madness' game ever. This buzzer-beater blast from the past is courtesy of Tyus Edney. Back in 1995, top-seeded UCLA was on the brink of being bounced by Missouri in the second round. With 4.8 seconds remaining in regulation, Edney took it coast-to-coast for the game winning bucket. UCLA went on to win the program's 11th championship that year, its first and only since the Wooden era.
As soon as he finishes serving his lifetime ban. That may seem a bit harsh, but I'm biased when it comes to the subject of Pete Rose. I just don't like him--never have. It all started at the tender age of six. It was the 1976 World Series, the first series that I can vividly remember. I knew nothing about him but once I saw his face on TV, I immediately disliked him--immensely. He simply creeped me out. I wish I had that kind of 'jagoff radar' today. Everybody knows that Pete Rose bet on baseball, and on the Cincinnati Reds while he managed them back in the '80s. We knew this 17-years ago. He's already admitted as much, in a futile attempt to gain entry into Cooperstown. But for some reason Pete decided it would be a good idea to come a little bit more clean about his 'gambling jones'. Rose went on ESPN radio Wednesday and admitted that when he managed the Reds, he bet on them every night-- always to win:
"I bet on my team every night. I didn't bet on my team four nights a week, (as he originally claimed) I was wrong, I bet on my team to win every night because I love my team, I believe in my team. I did everything in my power every night to win that game."
Pete also said that he is the best ambassador that Major League Baseball has. Sure thing Pete. Not to be a jerk or anything, but the 1994 strike was a better ambassador for baseball than Pete Rose could ever be.
You know what? I kind of almost believe him about only betting on his team to win. Only because I saw the man play. He played like his hair was on fire, and he hated to lose. He was one of the nastiest sum-bitches to ever lace up the spikes, and that's a compliment. He has more base hits than anyone who's ever lived, and three championship rings--unless he pawned them for seed money by now. Wow, it kind of makes you wonder how much bread he had riding on the games he was playing in. Do bookies even take action on All-Star games anyway? Some people say that Pete deserves a second chance because he 'fessed up. I disagree for the simple fact that gambling in baseball is equivalent to murder in society. If you get convicted or even come clean and confess, you're going away for life. Everybody in baseball knows this, and they've known it since 1919. Pete knows it too. Betting on your own team as a player, (win or lose) is deplorable. Doing it as the manager of a ball club is absolutely unforgivable. He wasn't only gambling with his own money, he was also gambling with the one precious commodity a professional athlete has--his health. This isn't about getting Pete Rose getting reinstated, that ship has sailed. It's about Pete getting the other half of the fans who revere him to stand in line for an hour, to pay for the privilege of having him scribble his name on a baseball card. That way he can keep chasing his personal dragon.
I'm just so annoyed at the fact that Pete Rose pops up every Spring with some new revelation. I'm also annoyed by the fact that it was ESPN's lead story, and that anybody would even debate whether or not he should be in the Hall of Fame anymore. Most of all, I'm annoyed that I felt compelled to sit down and post this. I had better things to do with my evening.
That’s one question that was floating around So Cal today. Sure he is working with a banged-up roster, and two of his key offensive weapons are out with injuries. He's also saddled with 'Half Pipe' Radmanovic, who busted up his shoulder while taking up snowboarding over the All-Star break, and then lied about what happened. All of that considered, there is still no excuse for what happened Sunday night. If there’s one thing Lakers fans are, is realistic. Nobody expected the Lakers to beat that steamroller of basketball team. But we certainly didn’t expect the worst home loss since the franchise moved to LosAngeles 47 years ago, especially not on Phil Jackson's watch. I’m certain that most Lakers fans would’ve accepted a 10-point loss to Dallas so long as they showed they had some fight left in them. I could even understand a 15-point loss, considering the depleted roster. But a thirty six-point spread at home? Good grief. At least pretend to show us that you care about the outcome. Some dark clouds have silver linings, but there wasn't one positive thing the Lakers had to hang their headbands on at the end of the day. It was a pathetic effort from top to bottom, and one of the ugliest basketball games I've had the displeasure to watch in my entire life. But at least I wasn't there, or I would have been really bent. Regular season 'nose bleed' seats for two at Staples, with parking, grub and beer will easily set you back a few hundred bucks. Thankfully, I spent the entire weekend at the beach which didn't cost a dime, so all I could really do was just shrug my shoulders.
WWCS: What Would Chick Say?
That’s exactly what I was wondered Sunday night while the Lakers were getting their heads handed to them by the Mavericks. As much as I miss him, it’s probably for the best that he didn’t have to witness that nationally televised embarrassment. Chick Hearn was notorious for lambasting the Lakers when he felt they weren’t playing up to snuff, and that was during the championship years. Old ‘Golden Throat’ would’ve had a field day yesterday broadcasting that atrocity, and nobody would've have been spared--Kobe and Phil included. I couldn’t even begin to tell you what current Lakers play-by-play man Joel Meyers had to say about it. The the days of turning the sound down on the TV during a national telecast, and listening to the local radio broadcast ended the day Chick passed on. Meyers probably made some critical comments, but I’m sure they paled in comparison to the tongue lashing that Chick would have administered. I wish I could hear what he would've said about Lamar Odom being caught on camera in his 'streets', cutting-up on the bench. Down by 30-points in the fourth-quarter is not the time to 'have jokes' or play 'grab-ass', especially when you're inactive. Odom acting like a clown at the most inappropriate time is the least of the team's concerns, but it just looks bad. Now the Lakers are forced to fight for a spot in the post-season, and their chances of advancing past the first round look bleak. I don't know what the Nets were asking for in return for Jason Kidd, so to say that the Lakers should have made a deal to get him would be ignorant of me, but I can't help but wonder what kind of impact he would've made. I guess if I really want to know what kind of alleged impact Jason Kidd makes, I should ask his estranged wife.
Huntington Beach License Plate
After spending the entire weekend loafing on the beach, I am certain of one thing: I am over the whole lower back tattoo phenomenon. Every other woman on the beach this weekend was sporting her, "I like it from behind" ink. Nice job ladies, I'm sure your step-daddies are proud of your 'spinal bulls-eyes'. Frankly, I'm sick of everyone's 'ink'. Thirty years from now, the elderly population of this country is going to look ridiculous with its wrinkled, shriveled up 'body art'. Sometimes I wonder if people realize that they can't just wash that crap off. All I could think of every time I saw a woman proudly displaying her 'HB tags" this weekend, was SNL's lower back tattoo removal ad. I'm sure you've seen it by now as it's nothing new, but it's worth another look-see. Just press play.
This week we head to the diamond. The Cactus and Grapefuit Leagues are underway, so it makes perfect sense. Tonight we offer the single greatest manager tirade of all-time. It's not Tommy Lasorda or Lee Elia. Although Lasorda and Elia are credited with two of the best on-mic 'bitch fits' ever, the true champion is Earl Weaver. I love that cranky old fart. His on-field tantrums made Billy Martin look like a boy scout. Earl loved the fact that he was obligated to appear for a little post-game chat, on whatever crappy AM station was the flagship of the Orioles back in the day. Uh, no he didn't. I've heard this rant a few dozen times over the past several years, and it never gets old. Turn up your speakers and enjoy. Oh, and make sure the kids aren't around to hear this.
After a week-long unwanted hiatus, WSS is back. I'm sure all three of my readers are thrilled beyond belief. After a week full of cursing technology, and wishing a painful death to all spammers and hackers--the problem has been temporarily solved. Rather than trying to recap items from the previous week, (and there were some juicy ones) we'll just move forward.
Mustache Madness
As we get closer to the NCAA Tournament, there is a disturbing fad that is sweeping workplaces across the country. In honor of March Madness, men across this great land of ours are competing with fellow co-workers in a one-month mustache growing competition, aptly named: Mustache Madness. Call me crazy, but competing with other grown men to see who can grow the best upper-lip pubes seems a tad bit fruity. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but you can count me out. Sadly, this new spring-time phenomenon has gripped the office in which I clock my forty hours a week. Even when mustaches were cool--they weren't. There are two types of men you should never trust; guys who have a first name for a surname, and guys with mustaches. If you meet a man who has both...run. Needless to say, it was quite an interesting day at the office. I felt like I was surrounded by either a bunch of motorcycle cops, or dudes on the brink of being featured on To Catch A Predator. It wouldn't have shocked me to see a camera crew bust out of the supply closet, followed by Chris Hansen holding a chat log. As much as this whole endeavor creeps me out, I must admit that I am thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to poke fun at my colleagues. My goal is to mercilessly berate each participant, forcing them to go to the razor early and lose the competition. As one of my office mates headed out for lunch today, I asked him if he was going to cruise the local neighborhoods with a leash, and a picture of his lost puppy. Yeah, I'll be lucky to escape March without a fat lip.
Billy Packer, Blind Or Stupid?
We'll go with biased. By now, everyone has chimed in about what happened on Tobacco Road over the weekend. Since we are a little late in our coverage, here is what Money Players had to say about the incident: My vote for the most annoying broadcaster is CBS's Billy Packer.Announcing today's Duke/UNC game, Packer was convinced that thereferees blew the call on Gerald Henderson's foul on Hansbrough,calling it unintentional, not flagrant. This was after he had theopportunity to review the videotape...over and over. I am sure Henderson's intent was not to KO Hansbrough, but there is no defensive technique that I am aware of that involves using your forearm to block someone's shot Check out Money Players when you get a chance. Good stuff. Box Seat In Hell
The Slant typically stays away from anything to do with politics. Being moderate and apathetic, staying out of it just makes sense. But there is no way I was going to pass up this item. Scumbag politico Ann Coulter, (just an opinion) opened the filthy sewer that doubles as her mouth last week. Invited to speak to a conservative political action committee, Coulter called presidential candidate John Edwards a faggot. Nice work Ann. Keep paving your highway to hell sweetheart. Did I say sweetheart? I meant hateful, loud-mouthed skanky pundit. I don't know which was worse, her lame attempt at comedy or the crowd's approval. You decide. I do not advocate violence toward women in any way, shape or form. However, when I hear Ann Coulter speak I am consumed with a feeling best described in a line uttered by Kathleen Turner from the film The War Of The Roses, "When I look at you lately, I just want to smash your face in."
Side Note
Just because ESPN now has the rights to Arena Football doesn't mean that we should even slightly care about it. If you can stomach it, check out this nifty little sales job ESPN.com is running. Apparently, QB Raymond Philyaw had nice game this weekend. In other action the Dallas Desperados "slayed" the Dragons, who hail from some other city--60-7. I have no idea what any of that means either. There's your Arena League wrap-up for the year.
Adam Jones sure is a popular fellow these days. All kinds of important people across the country are just dying to take a meeting with him. Detectives, investigators, prosecutors, and judges are all clamoring to get some 'alone time' with Pacman. So is NFL commissioner Roger Goodell. CBS Sportsline cited an anonymous league source who confirmed that Goodell has summoned Jones to his office in New York for a meeting on April 3rd. What's he going to do? Take his pistol way, and keep it in his desk drawer until the end of next season? The guy is on the verge of being brought up on felony charges in Vegas for being the second coming of Tony Montana. What could Roger possibly say that would make a difference? If Jones was a real gangsta' he'd march into Goodell's office, chuck his jersey at him and say, "Wash it yourself mang, I retire. I gotta look after my investments." I can understand what the commish is doing here. It's all about lip service and publicity. Just like the meeting Goodell had a few weeks back with select players and owners to discuss the league's recent 'thug life' image. The league announced today that it still needs more time to revise its conduct policy. My guess is that in two weeks Goodell will say that he still needs more time to decide Jones' fate, and that nothing will be done until he has his day(s) in court. This upcoming meeting between Jones and Goodell is a sham. Just like that little 'Three Strikes' confab Roger held last month. There is no short term solution to this problem, and scolding a baller like 'Pacman' makes no sense. People don't change. If you're an asshole today, you were more than likely one when you were 5-years old. You can't change people, but you can change policies. At least Goodell was responsible enough to notify the good people of New York a full week prior to Jones' arrival. Far be it from me to advocate profiling, but I wouldn't be opposed to New York's finest planting a GPS on him while he's in town--and assigning a tail or two. You never know, 'Pacman' could make it to Rikers Island before he even sees the inside of a Clark County court room. Stranger things have happened. I once heard about a guy who 'made it rain', allegedly bit a stripper, and may have played a role in the paralysis of another human being--all in one evening. Anything is possible.
