He's a tractor-lovin' gunslinger

Had to watch yet another Favre game in which the announcers made me sick with their ridiculous, over-the-top fawning praise. Make no mistake about it, Favre is good. Considering the guy's my age, and he's still putting together outstanding clutch performances like he did in today's playoff game, I can't really heap my customary dose o'hatred upon his undeserving shoulders. It's just that I'm tired of the "gunslinger" who's "just havin' a ball" hyperbole. We get it. The guy's good. The guy's apparently very likable. He still enjoys playing the game, even at his advanced age. He still has an alarming propensity for zipping the ball into triple coverage, and he still gets a free pass (pun intended) when those ill-advised passes get picked, because when he gets away with his craziness, exciting things happen. Good. Great. Lovely.

But not so good when the lunacy leads to an unsportsmanlike, in-your-face, running up the score late TD toss when the game was 27-3 with a little more than a minute left in the 4th quarter. Scummy? Unnecessary? Childish? Absolutely. But the TV talking heads loved it. If that had been a non-media darling like Matt Schaub or Aaron Rodgers running up the score for the sake of beefing up his statistics, I'm sure there would have been quite a bit of holier-than-thou outrage. Instead, the announcers were practically high-fiving each other over Favre's hayseed, aw-shucks bullshit. So, it's not necessarily Favre I hate (although I do find him annoying), as much as the way the media fellates him. At any given point in a game, you'll hear countless references to gunslingers, ballplayers, good old boys, tractors, rugged manliness, gunslinging, good old-fashioned fun, having a ball out there, gunslinging, playing the game, enthusiasm, craftiness, and gunslinging. Typical TV talking head soundbite after a 7-yard dumpoff to Adrian Peterson resulted in a first-down and an exuberant display of good ole' boyishness from Favre:

Oh, that gunslinger... he's a gunslingin' son of a gunslung gunslingin' gun that slings gunslung gunslingin' gunslingers. In short, he's a gunslingin' slung-gun gunslinger who slings guns like a gungslingin' son of a gunslung gunslingin' gunslinger. Oh, and he's just havin' a ball out there. 'Cause he's a gunslinger. Gun. Sling. Gunslinger.

Give me a break. I hope he gets his hillbilly ass handed to him next week-end. In a tractor. With a gun. And a sling. Gun. Slinger.

Long live the 80's !!!

It's hard to believe that yet another decade has come to its unofficial end (unofficial because technically, the new decade won't begin until 2011 -- mind your math, people!). Hard to believe for me, at least, because I'm still stuck in the 80's, aka The Greatest Decade Ever. What have any of the other decades in my lifetime contributed to popular culture? I was barely alive for the very tail end of the 60's, and they're noted for drugs and disgustingly dirty hippies. Thanks, but no thanks. The 70's are remembered for huge sideburns, Vietnam, and utterly heinous fashion. Thanks, but no thanks. The 90's were ridiculously nondescript -- the dingy grunge scene, and that's about it. Lame. And the 00's have been equally bland, apparently engendering tons of nostalgia for decades past from old fogeys like myself. My fave of those decades? The 80's!!! The new wave scene, those ridiculously goofy yet charming hairstyles, the metal scene, the "horny teenager" movies that have been much-imitated but never-duplicated, the over-the-top action flicks, the arcade scene... If you missed the 80's, you really missed out. So no, I can't quite let go of The Greatest Decade Ever, especially when there are still so many unresolved 80's dilemmas:

Music:
A) Who's Eileen, and why do I have to come on her?
B) Who really wants to hurt Boy George? Not me, although I WOULD appreciate him shutting the fuck up.
C) Just why DID she blind Thomas Dolby with science?

Movies:
There were literally thousands of horrible plot devices in 80's movies... which of my personal top three offenders would rank as the worst one?
A) The little kid saying "It was paint!" and, in one fell swoop, leading Danny Glover to realize that the baddie in "Lethal Weapon" was in the same secret batallion as Mel Gibson.
B) María Conchita Alonso magically producing the microfilm with the unedited footage of Arnie's "Butcher Of Bakersfield" shenanigans on "The Running Man." And while we're on that subject, just where DID María Conchita Alonso hide the microfilm? I'm guessing it was inside her conchita. Man, I kill myself.
C) Daniel LaRusso actually defeating Steve McQueen's incredibly scary son. I can believe a one-legged Daniel-san managing to beat Billy Zabka, since he used The Crane, a move Mr. Miyagi described as "no can defend" -- but there's no way Daniel-san got past Dutch. I refuse to believe it.

Best exposure:
A) Joyce Hyser tearing off her tux and revealing her assets in "Just One of the Guys."
B) Jamie Lee Curtis "inadvertently" showing Dan Aykroyd the goodies in "Trading Places."
C) Phoebe Cates telling Judge Reinhold how cute she thinks he is by unleashing the puppies in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High."
D) Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. No, not really. But don't you wish it was true? I know I do.

Signature game:
A) Rubik's Cube. Obnoxious, but addictive. Bonus question: How in the hell were those people on "That's Incredible" able to solve it in mere seconds? Bonus questions II: Who the hell is Rubik?
B) Pac-Man. Still popular today!
C) Donkey Kong. Nowadays, you probably know it as SuperMario or some such crap. But it'll always be Donkey Kong to me.
D) Space Invaders: as quoted roughly a billion times by my pal Greg, "Space invaders... they invade your space. Get it? [Snickers]"

Sports injustice:
A) The Brownies. Don't get me started. I hate John "Horsefucker" Elway.
B) The Cavs. Michael Jordan's an asswipe. Don't even dream of arguing this. He's a piece of shit.
C) France. A very underrated source of sports heartbreak, because they should have won both the 1982 and 1986 World Cups. The semifinal losses against Germany still make me sad, angry, and nauseous. Bonus gripe: Harald Schumacher is a disgusting Nazi thug, and the fucker belongs in prison. Bonus gripe II: Karl-Heinz Rummenigge may kindly burn in hell.

Signature look:
A) The new-wave hairdo, best exemplified by ridiculously long bangs -- aka, the "Flock of Seagulls" look.
B) The feathered bangs.
C) The metal mullet. Just about every wannabe poser in my high school yearbook looks like this, so this one may be my personal fave.

Ah, so many 80's questions, so little time... Happy New Year / New Decade !!!

Sports nicknames

I love a good sports nickname, but can't help but wish there was a little more originality involved nowadays. I know I'm old, but we've just got to stop recycling nicknames. Kobe Bryant, you're not "The Black Mamba" -- Roger Mayweather is. Sam Peter, you're not "The Nigerian Nightmare" -- that would be Christian Okoye. LaDainian Tomlinson should be called "LDT," not "LT" -- those two initials are the domain of one Lawrence Taylor. And I could go on. We're just getting lazy, complacent, and unimaginative when it comes to nicknames. A few months ago, Toby Mergler penned an excellent column to that effect, which included the following three jewels:

• Jose Canseco: "Flea Market" -- Every once in a while, you'll find something useful in what he says, but most of the time he's full of crap.
  
  
• Tracy McGrady, "The Public Restroom" -- Because he's hard to find when you need him the most.
  
  
• Dwight "Y-Axis" Howard -- Because his post game is one-dimensional.

Fantastic stuff! So, as the year draws to a close, I thought I'd make my own paltry contribution to this list by "honouring" some of 2009's biggest sports goats.

Braylon Edwards: "Edwards Scissorhands" -- because "Hands of Stone" was already taken by Roberto Durán. Edwards Scissorhands played himself out of town by dropping an inordinate amount of passes, then complained that the Cleveland faithful never liked him because he went to Michicrap. That's not the least bit true. Leroy Hoard went to Michicrap, and we adored him. Of course, Hoard was a productive back, a consummate team player, had a great sense of humour, and his interviews were an absolute joy. Edwards Scissorhands is a me-first, hypocritical, pass-dropping POS. The only consolation for the Cleveland faithful is that he's been equally maddening with the Jets, making ridiculous circus catches for 10 yards only to drop pretty much every perfectly thrown 30-yard rainbow. Loser.

Serena Williams: "Crown Victoria" -- because she has the biggest trunk. I actually like Crown Victoria, but that ridiculous hissy fit she threw because she couldn't handle the fact that she was getting her huge ass handed to her by Kim Clijsters earned her a spot on the list. Besides, I'm absurdly proud of myself for coming up with this hackneyed nickname.

Milton Bradley: "The Water Molecule" -- because he's bipolar. I can't believe this clown keeps getting chances. What's worse, the teams that sign him (and their fans) make the same mistake: namely, thinking that things will be different with them, and that The Water Molecule has turned a new leaf, and he's misunderstood, and he's a really nice guy, blah, blah, blah. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Bradley's crazier than a shithouse rat, and he's proven it time and time again. At this point, it's just a matter of when, not if, he'll go nuts in Seattle. It's a bummer, because after losing the Sonics and watching the Seahawks mail in their season, the Seattle fans deserve better, and are rightly optimistic about the Mariners, especially now that they've added Uncle Cliffy Lee to their already formidable rotation. But The Water Molecule will derail this team. Bank on it.

Donte Stallworth: "Hungover Calculus" -- because you should never drink and derive. But all kidding aside, accidents happen. What people just refuse to understand is that they're MUCH more likely to happen when your reflexes and judgment are impaired, even if slightly. Stallworth flashed his lights at the poor pedestrian he ran over. If you see a guy crossing the street in front of you, don't flash your lights... HIT THE BRAKES!!! Now we're all left to wonder whether Stallworth would have been able to either stop, slow down, or swerve had he been completely sober.

Eldrick "Tomcat" Woods -- too obvious? Sue me.

Merry Christmas, Mr. Bean!

This past Friday was the last day of school before the Christmas break. My Chemistry and Physics classes were finishing up their exams, but my Physical Science students were done. Not wanting to start a chapter only to have them forget everything over the break -- and trust me, they would -- I decided to cut them a little slack. The new schedule means that, at 49 minutes a class, I wouldn't be able to show them a movie. Luckily, a few years ago I snapped up the complete Mr. Bean series from Costco. The set includes the sublimely hilarious "Merry Christmas, Mr. Bean" holiday episode, which I played for my kids. Man, if only our labs were this much fun!

If your only exposure to Mr. Bean is from the awful movies that the TV show inspired (and this was the case with my students, who were in awe of Mr. Bean after the clips), you're in for a true Christmas treat:

Mystery Science Theater 3000 lives on!

When the Sci-Fi Channel pulled the plug on Mystery Science Theater 3000 a few years ago, I thought it was the end of an era: the best and funniest television show of the past few decades was no more. But rejoice! The MST3K crew (Mike Nelson, Kevin Murphy, and Bill Corbett) are still ripping movies to pieces, and even better, they're no longer shackled by the Sci-Fi Channel's copyright constraints. Thanks to my boy Martin (aka G-Spot) for not only letting me know about this but hooking me up with two Rifftrax'd Bela Lugosi jewels this past week-end. You can preview and purchase their latest offerings on their website, Rifftrax.com. Enjoy!

That stinking Cold War crap

Those of us who love opera know perfectly well that back in the 50s, an ignorant bunch of misguided, McCarthy-led idiots wouldn't let the great Boris Christoff sing here because we just couldn't have an opera dude from behind the Iron Curtain set foot on the Metropolitan. Yes, those sneaky Bulgarian bassos might have ended the American way of life with their open-throated craziness! That story has never failed to annoy the shite out of me, and I've often wondered how many more phenomenal singers we / I missed out on because of that idiocy. Surely, a school of singing as accomplished as that of the Soviet Union would have produced more than one great singer during the Cold War years! Over the last few years, thanks to the advent of YouTube, I've been finding more and more relatively unknown Soviet-bloc operatic jewels. Zurab Sotkilava, Muslim Magomaev, Nicolae Herlea, Pavel Lisitsian, Irina Arkhipova... and the latest find: my Armenian brother from another mother, Barseg Tumanyan.

A boxer: blindsided

The title of this post is a tribute to / blatant rip-off of Harry Sylvester's phenomenal short story, "A Boxer: Old." In this particular case, however, the protagonist is not a likable boxer fighting two relentless opponents: the boxer in front of him, and the ravages of time. The blindsided boxer in this case is a petulant little sanitary napkin named Floyd "Moneyless" Mayweather. A few days ago, he called in a satellite radio show co-hosted by some dude named RA the Rugged Man, probably thinking he'd get tossed a few softball questions and then be showered with lavish praise. Instead, this RA character blindsided "Pretty Broke" Floyd with a ton of tough questions regarding his career, his legacy, and his obnoxious tendency to proclaim himself the greatest of all time while demeaning possible opponents. Mayweather's response was predictable: lots of shouting, lots of empty posturing, lots of references to his wealth, but very little substance. In a way, I felt bad for Moneyless, even though I absolutely despise him, because I thought the instantly confrontational tone of the interview was unfair. Be that as it may, the interviewer, while not the most knowledgeable and articulate person, did know his boxing, and raised some very valid objections to the way Mayweather's career has been handled.

Here is the interview, in two parts:





I'll speak on behalf of the Floyd haters (h8rs), since I genuinely despise Moneyless. Those of us who dislike the man but are still somewhat rational don't judge his on-the-ring performance based on his personality. When Moneyless dismantled Chico Corrales, I was disgusted by the outcome but dazzled by Moneyless' brilliant (and it WAS brilliant) performance. Same thing when he took apart a then-undefeated and highly lauded Hatton. And I, for one, can't blame Moneyless for fighting Baldomir -- Baldomir had beaten Judah for his title, then beaten Gatti. Moneyless fought Judah first (and make no mistake about it, Judah was considered the better fighter even after his loss to Baldomir) and then Baldomir for his title. No complaints there, at least not from me.

My problem with Moneyless stems from his obnoxious, abrasive, not at all funny personality. When people ask him (rightly, in my humble opinion) why he chose not to fight Margarito or Mosley (and he DID make those choice -- even his most staunch supporters cannot deny that), his answer is to discredit those fighters he chose not to fight. "Oh, you mean the Shane Mosley that lost to Forrest? Lost to Cotto? You mean the Margarito that lost to Paul Williams?" So what if they lost some fights? That's not the reason Floyd chose not to fight them. I guess I despise him because he constantly and unremittingly insults mine and all other boxing fans' intelligence with his tiresome rhetoric. Just tell us you were biding your time for better fights or waiting for a better build-up of fight interest, which I, personally, would be inclined to accept. That's what he did with Judah. If memory serves, their fight was hashed out months in advance, and even though Judah, in his inimitable idiocy, muffed things by taking Baldomir lightly and losing a lackluster decision to him, Moneyless followed through on his plans and fought Judah first. Hey, boxing's a business, fighters need to make money. Even the most ardent hater (h8r) can and should understand that. But Mayweather gets on my nerves because he's a liar, and a pretty shitty liar at that, and I just can't stand liars, especially the stupid ones who believe their own lies. Case in point: Pretty Broke Floyd swearing up and down that he didn't owe the IRS millions of $$$, then showing off his impressive mansion on an HBO fight preview show, all while proclaiming, "My shit is paid for... how 'bout yours?" only to immediately turn over roughly half of his winnings from his last fight to the IRS to, you guessed it, settle his million $$$ debt to the government. What a douche bag.

So I guess that's it for me. I just despise Mayweather's boorish, obnoxious, "let me reinvent the truth and then shout it loudly because that'll somehow give my lies legitimacy" spiel. If that makes me a typical old-fogey white h8r, then so be it.