Is Mike Golic On Curb Your Enthusiasm?

One thing that irritates me about sports radio is if you catch the 6 AM run of SportsCenter or Headline News, you’ll know the topics on the queue of any major radio program. Why do I really need to listen in? Is it for the opinions?

Each host caters to a specific audience, so they’re only telling you what you want to hear.

If you like your host to harp on the agreed upon “sportsnation take” until listeners start driving off bridges, maybe Dan Patrick is your show. If you dig ratings-driven contrarianism, Colin Cowherd could be your man (you types probably read a Skip Bayless article at the same time). If you’re down with dead air, Hoover-esque fellatio on the interviewed coaches and athletes, and listeners whose rants sound like Randall from Clerks, then Rome is for you.

Beyond those basics, it’s style over substance nonsense, where the host – whose crankhead delivery is topped with banal Stu-Scottisms – spends the majority of his airtime pandering to the chimp-like listeners who believe the main problem with the Lakers is that Kobe shoots too much.

But it’s different for me with Mike and Mike in the Morning. Whenever I see advertisements for their show or hear them on the radio, I can’t do anything but think about Curb Your Enthusiasm.

I can’t shake the image that Mike Golic is actually Jeff Green – Larry David’s manager – in disguise. Whenever he speaks, all I can hear is Curb’s theme music and Jeff’s wife Suzie screaming crazy profanities at everyone. “Fuck you, Larry! Get the fuck out of my house, Larry! Fuck you and fuck your tea! You four-eyed fuck! You fuck! You fat fuck! And you bald piece of shit! Where’s the fucking head?”

I even see Oscar, the Greene’s corpse-sniffing German Shepard chasing down intruders and watching Jeff and Larry get involved in situations. I can’t get through 10 minutes of that damn radio show before I’m tracking down Curb episode recaps on the internet.

I remember when Notre Dame fired Tyrone Willingham and Mike Golic threw his alma mater under the bus. “What a Fredo,” I thought. “What a shame.” I haven’t really cared for him since but now that I’m plagued by Jeff Greene images, I don’t find the guy so offensive. Christ, I’m even starting to like him, as all I can see when Golic comes to mind is braindead, long-suffering Jeff having a sandwich while awaiting his wife’s next attack. It just doesn’t make sense.

Chicks Wrestle for Maxim to Decide Super Bowl XL

So I have another update today at SportsbyBrooks, which means I have, yet again, neglected to make a real post. I’ll get my shit together, I promise. Tuesday is looking pretty promising

First up is a video where Maxim decides the winner of Super Bowl XL with a wrestling match between half-naked greasy women. For those of you remaining that haven’t yet left to check out that video, here’s what else I have going on at SbB today:

Why does Phil “FIGJAM” Mickelson ranks #8 on GQ’s Ten Most Hated Athletes List?

Physically, developmentally or mentally disabled people aren’t just Steelers fans, they make the Super Bowl Edition Terrible Towels.

Meet Seven Barber, nemesis of Seven Costanza

Pats fan tries to hold Doug Flutie’s dropkicked ball for ransom

Lawrence Taylor embarrasses Michael Jordan

and much more.. well.. 5 more.

Cane Me. I Read Jay Mohr Again.

I’ve got another update at SportsbyBrooks this morning where I hit on such things as:

Peter Frampton gave Denny Neagle head

Brent Petway: Michigan Wolverines baller and worst rapper known to man

Who’s “the rich white guy” in the Pennsylvania gubernatorial campaign?

Princeton tries to disassociate itself from Bill Cowher

The USA Rock Paper Scissors League

and more safe for work goodness.

One thing I didn’t include and should’ve was this article by Jay Mohr, which is, quite possibly, the most mentally defective thing he’s ever written… if you’ve read any of Mohr’s “pieces,” you’ll quickly realize that this newest installment of suck takes things to a whole new level, as Mohr laughs at black people and a few random Euros for having names that aren’t quite up to the Anglo Saxon status quo. And while I’m sure the gist of these comments have crossed the minds of many people, the least Mohr can do is make it funny. Here are his jokes:

The two Earls (Boykins) play with a kid named Carmelo. Carmelo? Like the candy bar? I can see family day at the Pepsi Center now, “Hi, I’m Carmelo. This is my little brother, Nutrageous.”

Some NBA parents seem to like French pronouns. Take, for example, LeBron James. Translated from French, this would be “The Bron,” which would make his name Bron, which is what everyone calls him anyway. I have a question, though: If LeBron’s mom had a baby girl, would the world have welcomed a LaBron?

Bonzi Wells may or may not have been named after a tree. Does he have a brother named “Birch”? Is he related to Charles Oakley? These are mysteries we may never know the answers to.

No Jay, what we don’t have answers to is how you continue to be published and profiled week after week. Christ, I could’ve come up with these goddamn jokes but at least I’d have an excuse: I’m not a fucking comedian and no one pays me to be funny! Even though reading his tripe is like throwing my mind into a meat grinder, I keep doing it. Week after week I fall prey to the colorful blurb. “What will Jay suck about today, I ask” and off I go a-readin, only to be pissed off 4.2 seconds later. I ought to be bent over and caned. I’m ashamed of myself. Don’t waste your life clicking that link… My deepest apologies for providing it.

Even Jeff Garcia Thinks Matt Hasselbeck Looks Gay

You can check out my Hump Day thoughts at SportsbyBrooks where I provide updates on:

Anna Benson’s plan to “christen”Camden Yards

Jerome Bettis’ possible post-NFL career as long snapper coach for Notre Dame (yeah, I know – wtf?)

The petition to turn Super Bowl Monday, or Day After Big Game Day, into a national holiday

Troy Polamalu and Norah Jones, separated at birth?

and more..

I have another update scheduled for Thursday night, so if anyone spots any fun, crazy, interesting, amusing, silly, sex-related, or (fill in any adjective here) sporting links/news/pictures, please send it my way.

Damn You In Advance, Mark Shapiro

So it’s been a week.. well 2 weeks really since I only made one post in all that time, but I’m back with no explanation about my absence and I’m sure you all understand. So with that, I’m ready to press on with regularity once again.

I remember last month or so when idiot Yankee fans laughed uproariously at the Red Sox series of misfortunes. Manny wanted to be Manny in a new town, Edgar Renteria’s busted ass was sent to Atlanta, boy-genius Theo Epstein departed the organization in a gorilla suit, and the Yankees became the new employer of Way Back Machine Bernie the Messiah after Boston failed to scrounge up an extra 12 million quid. It’s all unraveling down in Beantown and those chumps will never be able to compete!…Right? I’m not so sure. Manny doesn’t appear to be going anywhere, Epstein has returned, and the Sox have responded to the Damon loss with a multiplayer deal, the crux of which appears to be Andy Marte for Coco Crisp. Assuming the deal goes through, the Red Sox win the centerfield war. Crisp is a gritty player that has steadily improved during his 3 years in major league baseball and I think it’s fair to wager that his years aged 26-29 are going to be better than Damon’s aged 32-35. Crisp won’t ever be some masterful leadoff man or a world-beating MVP but he’s a solid hitter only now entering his prime. His CF skills left something to be desired in Cleveland, but I fail to see how he isn’t an upgrade to the blackhole that was the Boston outfield.

In any case, lost in this news is the magic being worked by Mark Shapiro in Cleveland, who acquired the best prospect in baseball and only gave up his 3rd best outfielder to do it. The simple idea of Andy Marte was worth more than Edgar Renteria and now he’s being shipped off to a team that is racking up a silly amount of young talent just starting to hit its stride. Marte is the type of player that you gamble on and build your franchise around, and if the hype surrounding him is spot on, he’ll only further solidify the Indians’ position as a perennial contender in years to come. This is the Indians lineup in 2007: CF – Grady Sizemore, SS – Jhonny Peralta, DH – Travis Hafner, C – Victor Martinez, 2B – Ronnie Belliard, 1B – Ben Broussard, 3B – Andy Marte. Broussard aside, that’s a helluva core.. with the acquisition of a couple solid corner outfielders, Cleveland will be the newest team to contribute to my post-season nausea… At least I’ll be able to prepare myself and say I saw it comin…. fuck.

SportsbyBrooks Update

Hey hey, I’m plugging back into the world, so I’ll be around regularly again. There is no old business, so in new business, Friday’s fun can be found at SportsbyBrooks, where I have fun bits on:

Phil Simms, Ed Hochuli, and the gun show

EDSBS’s “Are You Michael Vick” quiz? It could be you

Tobey Bryan’s Backcourt Violation – Kobe’s truth is good for porn fiction

SPiN’s Hottest Significant Other Tournament features 31 Playmates, Penthouse Pets, models, athletes, and… Steffi Graf

Chelsea’s Joe Cole gets a right beating over a hairdresser with 34DD’s

and many more…

No Cheese on my Sausage McMuffin, Mr. Vick

In response to being permanently kicked off the Virginia Tech football team, Vick said, “It’s not a big deal. I’ll just move on to the next level, baby.” No apologies, no regrets, no accountability. While I hope the next level is my local McDonalds, the Golden Arches don’t have pictures on their cash register buttons and that could be a huge challenge for Eddie El Salvador.

The obvious thing to do in this situation is lament the bonehead GM that will inevitably draft Vick, holding the belief that with some tough love, Vick will realize his potential, not only as a football player but as a man of character, as well. But I would like to know what Michael Vick is going to do about this. It was his success that most heavily contributed to El Salvador’s warped sense of entitlement and as the big brother, as the most influential person in this kid’s life, where has the guidance been and where is it now? When little brother does wrong, you teach him to have good habits because those habits become your character and that character becomes your destiny. You don’t provide him with more money, Escalades, and boxes of Valtrex but sadly, I think that is exactly what Michael Vick will do.

Thanks, Vince

In the post-game hysteria a few minutes ago, ESPN’s Holly Rowe tracked down a disgruntled Matt Leinart and found him trapped in the midst of a throng of lights, cameras, and sports reporters. After an exchange of inanities, the conversation ended like this:

Matt Leinart: “I still think we’re a better football team – they just made more plays.”
Holly Rowe: “Thanks, Vince.”

A fitting end.

Edit: I don’t have a lot to say about this game. For those of you leaving comments about how USC should have won because of this or Texas lucked out because of that, save it. The Rose Bowl was rife with missed opportunities, costly mistakes, questionable coaching calls, and shoddy refereeing but what game isn’t? Texas Vince Young made the right things happen when it mattered and the deserving team won an incredible game.

I cheered for USC, as my hatred for all things Texas trumped any negative feelings I have for the Trojans, but I have to admit a bit of satisfaction watching USC get USC’ed in the final minutes. You can think back to the few games in the last 2-3 years where USC was outcoached and outplayed only to pull a miraculous victory out of the jaws of defeat because Reggie Bush is Superman… or a superpusher. But not this time. Mack Brown didn’t try to outwit Pete Carroll or pull some razzle-dazzle gimmick out of his arse and Vince Young didn’t lead clock-draining Patriot-esque drives to keep the Trojan offense off the field. The Longhorns lined up, said, “That’s fine, we’ll do it your way,” and Vince Young Bushed USC to win the National Championship. As much as I hate the Texas Longhorns, that was a beautiful thing to watch.

Please Die, Al Davis

I saw an article on Yahoo! Sports whose headline read “Raiders’ ‘Just Win’ Mantra Dooms Turner.” As if it was ever that dramatic. Any mantra short of “Just Don’t Suck” left Turner in the depths and now that non-coaching bastard is gone, so huzzah. Having said that, I remain unsatisfied. The Oakland Raiders Restoration Project is a two-part process and firing our rag of a coach was only the first step; the second and most important is death.

Al Davis, you’re up, buddy.

Ya see Al, with you at the helm, the Oakland Raiders will suffer another 10 years of coaching retreads, “scheme” guys, and softball personalities. There will be no leadership and there will be no progress. God forbid you put some leaders on the roster or pay top dollar for a great coach that you can leave alone and support. Oh no. Not you. You need a puppet that’s as useful as my boyfriend after a blowjob and that, Al, is why you must be shuffled loose the mortal coil. Continuing to tolerate your existence is in direct violation of the “Commitment to Excellence,” a way of life that I, as a Raider fan, hold near and true to my heart. As a result, it’s over. Pack it up, bring a couple coins for the boatman, and we’ll be on our way. Just to make sure you go out in style, I’m gonna get Death to pick you up in a pimped out ’76 El Dorado… we’ll take that bad boy across the River Styx instead. How ya like that?

**Somehow, the death of Al Davis will not save the Raiders from Mike Martz, the NFL’s smarmy doer of great evil… I weep for the future.