You’re a Champion, Brother!

February 5, 2008 at 1:42 am | Posted in misc, Uncategorized, whitney | Leave a comment

I agree with Brian: more hunks! Which is why I have been tuning in every week to this little retro gem:american gladiators (Ok, so these aren’t the <i>actual</i> gladiators that I’ve been watching, but after minutes of a really depressing scan through google images, I decided this is close enough.  Trust me, you get the general idea) This new season of American Gladiators comes on just before this great new game show about ruining lives with lie-detector tests that I watch obsessively and immorally. Finally, the corporate giants of NBC recognized the lack of jobs for female body builders (the dudes can go into politics, so how’s that fair?) and brought back everyone’s favorite Nerf-based obstacle show. Writer’s strike, Shmiter’s strike. The Gladiators will not be stopped!  Hosted by everyone’s favorite brother, Hulk Hogan, and some other lady, American Gladiators continues to dazzle and amaze 20-somethings with feats of conveyor belt running, tennis ball dodging, and fire swimming .wolf This guy likes to sniff his competetors. That’s his thing because he’s called “The Wolf.” Also, he howls. crush And this is the one my boyfriend loves. I think it’s the asymmetrical hair and husky voice. Plus, her name’s Crush, so she kind of demands it.  Helga kind of looks like this: helga  And as one lovely and articulate comment pointed out: “she is one nasty lookin girl, i wouldnt hit it with a dump truck” To which a delightful fan responded: “hey these women are hott and very sexy but they are tough athletes that hold the true name of american gladiators…for those of you that say she’s big..hell ya she is Bet she could whoop your ***! She is solid woman baby!” So, as you can see, tensions run high on the Helga message board. To solve the controversy I will point out that one time she was yanked off a platform backwards into the water and we saw her Swedish underpants. So, clearly, she’s awesome and sexy and I would hit it. With a golf cart, even.

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Maybe Manny’s Got a Point…There’s Always Next Year

October 19, 2007 at 3:46 am | Posted in baseball, whitney | 3 Comments

Don’t worry. The Red Sox will win tonight.

For one thing:
They’ve got Beckett’s gf singing the National Fucking Anthem! You’ll notice her neutral colored baseball cap, but you’ll also notice her hott bod:
Danielle Peck
If she’s doing anything like that pre-game, I think we can count on this ugly bastard
Joshua Beckett
to be pretty pumped up (where is Dice-K’s skills when you need them??? At least someone we can look out without barfing cat vomit…wait…cats barfing human vomit?…I’m not sure how that goes…anyway, he’s bad looking.)

Also, based on their active roster, the Sox have about 197.69lbs on the Indians. That means each Red Sox team member, on average, has about 2.89 lbs on each Indian team member. Based on their starting line-up from Tuesday, the average Indian weighs about 196.67, while the average Sox weighs about 202.22. And this is based on the stats from the official MLB website. You’re telling me that this tubster
the fatty
Weighs only 200lbs, while this bean pole
skinny little dude
Weighs 190? A ten pound difference?? I don’t know if they’re trying to spin Manny as small and quicker, or Lofton as younger and tougher. But something’s wrong here.

Anyway, where I come from (Denmark, mostly) the more weight the better. Okay, exaggeration, but considering that great three homer spectacle on Tuesday, I’m counting on the Red Sox to start pounding the hell out of that ball, the way heavyweights should. Either that, or start swinging their guts a little quicker around those bases. Lofton is stealing on their asses like a bat out of hell.
bat out of hell

Suzuki Swings

September 12, 2007 at 12:01 pm | Posted in baseball, whitney | 2 Comments

I’m going to throw this out there: catchers are the unsung heroes of the major leagues. I’ve been watching this A’s game tonight (against the Mariners, and it’s a pretty good game. lots of hits, Swisher isn’t pissing me off too much – but not swinging enough…because I love when Swisher Swings.) and there’s all this talk of the pitcher (so impossible to keep track of for me. There are too many and they’re all dogs except Lugo, who I like a lot) and Mark Ellis gets a lot of attention, Piazza of course, Swisher fucks up a lot lately so he’s the talk of the town…but what about Suzuki? Eh? Eh? Suzuki kicks a lot of ass a lot of the time, but you don’t hear his name thrown around a lot unless he hits a home run to win the game (so awesome).

It just seems to me that catchers deserve more attention. They squat there for the whole game every game – which takes a toll on your knees, just ask my PT (my dad) – and a lot depends on whether they can block every ball, so they take a lot of hits. Awkward catches that can dislocate your thumb. Heat stroke. Plus your face is covered up the whole time so you probably don’t enjoy the celebrity that some of your teammates have. I’m not saying that they are anonymous in terms of commentary, but it seems to me that their sacrifices should be honored a little more. Like, some sort of ode sung during the fourth, because God knows the seventh inning can sure be long in coming.

Maybe I just like Japanese(-American) players. Um…that’s a possibility.

P.S. a bagpipe rendition of Amazing Grace in honor of Sept. 11th, juxtaposed with shots of dirty first bases…okay. I’m feeling it.

Fantasy Sports for the Non-Sports-Enthusiast

August 7, 2007 at 2:57 pm | Posted in football (soccer), whitney | 3 Comments

My interest in real life sports was only developed fairly recently (directly coresponding to the creation of this blog probably), but my interest in fantasy sports has been around for a while. This season marks my first attempt to actually play fantasy soccer (football, futbol, the game of kings).

The most appealing part of playing fantasy sports to me is naming my team, because who doesn’t like to name things? I’ve got pets: Boris the Russian Dwarf Hampster, Fanny the Fish, and Jamocha Ali the Pug (hypothetical). Then there is the naming of future children: Little William Oliver and Cedar Lee Borup. And, of course, all of my inanimate possessions: Susan the Plant, Carl the Bear, and Billie Joe the Guitar (settle down, I was 14). I’m not especially happy with my fantasy soccer name (were I to start over, I would call them the Jamocha Alis), but at least minutes of joy/anxiety were put into deciding if Peaches was better than the Freedom Fighters (Freedom Fighters has probably been done a billion times…).

Then you get to design your own uniforms. While this is far less exciting than you might think, owing to the limitations on design (petition for uploading pictures of your own designs?), I think I ended up with a pretty good color scheme. At least everyone agrees that they’re way hip except this guy whose similarities in uniform choice might spark a feeling of jealous competition.

Picking your players is obviously the most challenging aspect of fantasy sports for the non-sports-enthusiast. I went through a variety of ways of picking and organizing my team. First, I went with names of people I’ve heard ranted and raved about on here and who I’ve actually seen play. This is how Drogba became my star forward. Next I went with names. Like, Tugay’s name was too good not to be on a team called Peaches sporting lavender outfits. Or Clichy is the name of my favorite metro stop in Paris (cocaine!). From there I went with hair. Most of the players on my team have really good hair:
Woodgate's Luscious Locks
When hair is becoming scarce, I go for foreign names and handsomeness:
Gilberto
(Gilberto has it all)

We’ll see how the team does come August 11th. To keep morale high, my current motto is “never say die” or, also: “never trade a team member.” I feel like this is a sign of a decent manager. Also, trading around and keeping track of fantasy rules seems boring. The best part is over, now I get to sit back and let my passive-competitive nature kick in.

Rocky Mountain Blues

July 18, 2007 at 1:23 pm | Posted in baseball, basketball, whitney | 1 Comment

I was so excited for the rocky mountain review tomorrow…
Millsap rocky mountain review
(and millsap is my favorite…the good old rookie from Louisiana…)

But, once again the world is conspiring against me and I’m going to have to tough it out with this guy:
The Godfather

The summer is the worst time for sports. Because baseball is awesome, but in July – with the sun reflecting off the metal stands and the blind guy starting to come to Owlz games, too! – it starts to lose its charm. Plus no one even goes to watch the game. At least in the minor minor minor leagues, people are just going to “The Home of the Owlz” (as they try to bully sports writers into calling it) as a date opportunity. It’s like Cafe Rio times 550 (or Comedy Sportz times 762).

getting married at a baseball game

I can’t wait until October.

Orem…A Great Place to Live, Work, and Play (ball)!

June 20, 2007 at 11:56 pm | Posted in baseball, whitney | 9 Comments

“Let’s see you try to get out of this one, HouDini!”

As far as baseball games go, I think last night’s was the best. It was one of those bottom of the ninth, bases loaded type situations. And then that lousy “Swing less, walk Moore” Jeremy Moore gets up to bat with one out. Then Garcia…Oh, Garcia…designated garbage more like. And, thus, the Owlz lost by one. Bummer.

However, the insults were flying: “If you’re gonna bunt, bunt with balls!” “All the pats on the butt in the world won’t get you over that embarrassment!” “Oh no, it’s junk-in-the-trunk Mathews” “What is this, Little League??”

Sometimes I was cheering for the Odgen Raptors due to a mega-crush I formed on their catcher, Kenley Jansen. 6’2″, 178, born in Curacao, Netherlands Antilles. His average is .102 … so there wasn’t much to cheer for at the plate, but what a cutie. But, who could honestly cheer for the Raptors with a logo like this one:
Ogden Raptors Logo

And as far as mascots go, Hootz has got to be the most loveable one.
Hootz

What a cutie. Instead of the punches in the face Cosmo’s handing out, Hootz is giving hugz. He doesn’t disapear for most of the game like that crazy Leprachaun guy the Celtics have.
Celtics mascot
(though, he can’t do that either. He can’t even hula hoop.)
And he doesn’t really hang out with kids very often. It seems like he’s always picking on the adults (usually trying to sit on women’s laps).

WTF HD?

May 27, 2007 at 1:21 pm | Posted in basketball, whitney | 4 Comments

While HD-TV might be a great way to catch Ricky Schroeder (everyone’s favorite Mormon and Silver Spooner) on 24, I submit that it might be one of the worst ways to watch basketball. I like those bird’s-eye-view shots of Parker after his 14th flop (we hate him because he’s French and picks his nose), and psuedo-following shots are fine if it’s a free throw or a time out, but I’m not really getting the point of it while the ball’s in play. I guess it’s supposed to make you feel like you’re there, but the thing about being there is that sometimes you don’t see the ball because someone’s blocking your view. That would even be okay if they weren’t moving the camera up and down in addition to side to side and then zooming in and out. It makes you sea sick. All you see is the camera moving and you forget about how much you hate Okur (but especially how it sounds like the announcers call him “Annette” every time). I think they might be going for an exciting, Bourne Identity kind of feel. It’s not working. The boost in picture quality is nice, but is it really necessary for a sporting event when things are moving so quickly? And if you have HD, you have a plasma screen, which is pretty great quality as it is.

Also, God bless TiVo. I’d never watch sports without it.

Orrin Hatch was characteristically sober tonight after the Jazz win (probably thinking about torture). He, of course, wasn’t donning the Zion’s bank t-shirt, and instead had some kind of pin on his lapel. I’m thinking it’s either a promotion for his upcoming album or a “Hatch ’08” pin.

And was it just me, or were those announcers having a love affair with Matt Harping in the first half tonight? Speaking of clean cut jazz players, that guy has nothing interesting going for him.

My New Ink

May 15, 2007 at 4:01 am | Posted in baseball, whitney | 2 Comments

After sporting fake tattoos this weekend, I’ve decided that I look really good with ink:
Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us
(that’s a tiger riding the waves and Dora la Exploradora)

So I think I’m going to get a tattoo of Matsuzaka and Okajima holding hands. Sort of like this:
Dice-K and Okajima Holding Hands
without the dude in the middle.
But I want Okajima to just be smiling normal like that and Dice-K to look like this:
Dice-K loves his Gyroball

I think if I were Hideki (I’m not) I wouldn’t be as good of friends with Dice-K as they are. Here’s a veteran ball player – he’s been playing in the majors in Japan for the Yomiuri Giants since 1993 – who has to carry around the cooler of candy for his teammates, while his fellow countryman is living the high life with hundreds of reporters and thousands of fans tracking his every move. Not to mention the fact that Okajima is less attractive and making way less money (he’s getting $2.5 million for two years while Dice-K signed a $52 million for six year deal). But it seems to me, after these last games against Toronto, that Okajima is the better pitcher. He’s not as fancy, but he’s so consistent and calm.

I really like how the two of them are, like, BFFs now. All the articles I read about either of them usually mention how they are always spotted “giggling together.”

I think my tattoo is going to be really good.

Little League Woes

May 12, 2007 at 10:36 am | Posted in baseball, whitney | Leave a comment

I lied. In my last post I said that the Indians were looking pretty good, but I hadn’t even seen them play yet. I just wanted a nice way to end it, I guess. Normally I could just let a little lie like that slide, but it turns out that I was so off that I feel like I have to come clean. The Indians are sucking it up big time. Today they didn’t catch a single fly ball, and most grounders got past them.

Jameson stopped on his way to first base. Not kidding: it was a grounder to the pitcher and I guess he figured he was a goner, so he just stopped. He was about to turn around and walk to the dugout when he finally noticed that the pitcher missed the grounder. He barely made it, but only because the throw to first was ridiculous.

Tre got out on two stupid attempts to steal. He likes standing in the middle of the bases and clapping his hands to get the pitcher’s attention. The short stop followed him over, and the catcher threw it to him to tag Tre out. Twice! What an idiot.

My mom gets mad at me when I yell at our own players. She points out that so-and-so’s parents are in the stands with me. Well, maybe so-and-so’s parents should take so-and-so to the batting cages, because the kid hasn’t got a chance. He ducks under outside/low balls.

And I hate our catcher. Spencer. I wish he and his frosted tips were dead and gone so Weston (my brother) could move into the infield for once. Spencer’s entire family comes to the games to eat those sugar pacifier suckers that get their faces all sticky. And one of them pooped his pants today, I know he did.

We won. But only because the Yankees sucked so bad (and they were all overweight, so even when we made errors, we could usually get the ball to first base before they could get there).

If Only I Ate Hot Dogs

May 7, 2007 at 4:02 am | Posted in baseball, whitney | 2 Comments

Here are my favorite things about BYU baseball games:
1. Blind Man – There is a middle-aged man who goes to every home BYU sporting event he can. No matter where Heather and I sit, he seems to be sitting right behind us, pounding “Let’s Go Cougars” out on the back of the chair and making our entire row shake. He’s loud and yells pointless things like “Come ON! HOME RUN!” as though that wasn’t already the intent. He also has a tendency to cheer for balls. Heather speculates that this is because he doesn’t want to miss any of the action…if there is no action, than he can feel better about being blind. Anyway, the best part about him is that he argues with the ump. Up to twenty seconds after the fact, he’s yelling at the ump that the guy on first was out (the ball wasn’t even thrown to first). He likes to argue about strikes and balls, too. “Come on blue!!!”
2. Big League Chew – Our parents wouldn’t let us chew this when we were little because it glorifies tobacco. It’s gross, but we’re making a rebellious statement.
3. The Regulars – There is a group of boys who come up with the best cheers and then Heather and I go from there. My favorite was when one of the players on the other team had a batting average of .107. So all of us started calling him One-Oh-Seven. He was the catcher, so whenever someone stole on him or he missed a ball, we’d taunt him relentlessly. College baseball is a great venue for this kind of mockery. It’s quiet and small, so you can be sure that they hear you. Gonzagas still won by 11…
4. Baseball Soda – We sneak it in in Heather’s purse. It leaks every time.
5. J.D. – What a good catcher. What a great hitter. What a hottie.

Things I hate about BYU baseball:
1. Blind Man – He always has the people around him explain the game to him. Like, you’d think he was deaf too. He can’t hear the bat hit the ball he can’t hear the ump call “ball” or “strike” or “out.” So every little thing is explained to him. We usually end up sitting somewhere else after a couple innings.
2. The Sun
3. Seventh Inning “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” – I don’t care how drunk you get, no one ever feels good doing that.
4. Deals for Steals – Half the time Cosmo’s taking a nap and no one gets a deal. The other half the time it’s a haircut or something totally lame.
5. Cosmo – He used to be alright when his face seemed nice, but now he looks and acts like a real bastard. Last time Hootie from the Provo Owls was there and the two of them had a hula-hooping contest. Hootie’s got like, 25 inches around the waist on Cosmo. He couldn’t even get the hoop around him, and Cosmo’s sitting there rubbing it in his face. Poor Hootie.
6. Losing all my Bets – “I bet fifty cents there will be a base hit this inning” and I still lose.

As for little league, the Indians are looking pretty good this year. More on that later.

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