Archive for June, 2007

Hence the Name of this Blog

By | June 29, 2007 | Talking Trash | 1 Comment


[photo: Getty ]

Jockey Can Be as Classy as Bengals

By | June 26, 2007 | Racing | 1 Comment

Hey, did you guys hear about the jockey that was suspended for 30 days for kicking a two year old horse before a race? Yeah. Nice.

Why would you kick a horse in the stomach? On TV.

So Victor Molina got suspended 30 days and fined $1000. It doesn’t seem like much of a punishment for kicking an animal – especially since he works with horses every day. But he says he was surprised at the severity of the penalties.

Wait until he finds out about karma.

Coach K Needs A Hug

By | June 25, 2007 | Basketball | 2 Comments

Part of the fun of being a sports fan is not only rooting for your own team but also rooting against other teams. Coach K doesn’t think so. He thinks the fans and media should be nicer to him and Duke.

Blinky, Pinky & Clyde Gonna Toss His Salad

By | June 22, 2007 | Talking Trash | 1 Comment

Waddup Gump… Wokka Wokka Wokka

Pac-Man Jones: I Will Be Nowhere Near Next Fridays Strip-Club Stabbing

The Onion

Pac-Man Jones: ‘I Will Be Nowhere Near Next Friday’s Strip-Club Stabbing’

LOS ANGELES—Suspended Tennessee Titans cornerback Adam “Pac-Man” Jones called a press conference Tuesday in order to emphasize that he will be nowhere near a possibly fatal stabbing that will occur during a fight involving several members…

happy to be here

By | June 7, 2007 | Basketball | 1 Comment

After much giddy anticipation, the NBA Finals start tonight. While the layoff hasn’t been good for the stomach, it should be good for the Cavaliers, giving them time to get their heads on straight (as straight as they will go). A quicker turnaround would have meant a dizzied performance in at least the first game. Now, they should have the chance to wrap their minds around the fact that they’re in the Finals. I tried that myself, but the soft tissue of my brain was torn asunder.

So, over the next 4 to 7 games, every frenzied cry you hear will be me, bemoaning a Sasha Pavlovic turnover. Every girlish shriek will be me, joyous over a LeBron James’ dunk. Every stomach-wrenched dry heave will be me, sweating another close, white-knuckle finish. It’s almost more than I can handle, but this, as painful as it sometimes is – is why we’re fans.

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