Recently in Golf Category

So Tiger Woods is making his triumphant return to sport at Augusta. Fantastic news, really. Tournament sponsors and networks get their ratings; tens of millions will watch a round of golf without waking up 3 hours later in a puddle of their own drool; and Phil Mickelson gets a valid reason for that "No one knows I just took it up the arse" look he always has on his face. We're all winners. 

As such, the only thing that can spoil the 2010 Masters is mind-numbing commentary about Tiger's time away from the game and how that's affected his play, the sport itself and, really, the world at large. Even though all of that has been covered ad nauseam since last December, it's all we're going to get from Thursday to Red Shirt Sunday (even if Tiger doesn't make the cut). Sure, they'll try to even things out by mentioning Camilo Villegas' new haircut and making remarks about Phil Mickelson's banned Ping fiasco, but by and large, we're effed.

So like any immature drunkard, I have devised this simple yet effective game for surviving the Masters (or dying in the middle of it). 

Take a shot or chug any time the following is said:

• 1 shot - Layoff, rehab, scandal, sex
  
• 2 shots - Transgressions, 2008 knee injury
  
• 3 shots - Any mention of public apology or sponsors
• 4 shots - Family: Earl, Kutilda, Elin Woods or pictures of children
• Shot and a beer - Commentary from a golf legend (Nicklaus, Palmer, Player, etc) OR Jesper Parnevik
• Ultimate Warrior Challenge - Gentle Path Rehab Facility
• Blackout Bonus - Any named mistress

I don't have much of a clue about life, the universe or anything that matters, but one thing I do know is that most athletes are cheaters. It doesn't matter if they're men or women, in the professional ranks, college or high school, to paraphrase Chris Rock, an athlete is as faithful as his or her options. Naturally, the ease (and therefore likelihood) of infidelity is often directly proportional to the athlete's status, skill and renown.

So when news broke about Tiger Wood's International Cooze Tour, my only surprise was that people were, well, surprised. The shocked were divided in two camps:

1. "How could he cheat on Elin Nordegren? She's a goddess!" Yeah, she is. But show me one woman that no man would think of cheating on and I'll show you twenty that only the strongest of men could resist.
2. "I don't understand. He was such a focused family man!" No, he's a billionaire, larger than life athlete whose best friends are Michael Jordan and Charles "Around the Corner for a Blow Job" Barkley, two men whose four interests are money, sex, glory and the annihilation of anyone who interferes with that short list.

Unless you were a child or a naive fool, learning these things about Tiger shouldn't have been shocking. The only real surprise here is this:

These are some nasty bitches.

When a man has the ability to not only sleep with 98% of the women on the planet but also be permitted to have degrading, dehumanizing sex with 80% of them, why opt for the paper baggers? And this isn't just a problem that afflicts Tiger. A lot of men cheat with uglier and/or skankier women than they have at home. Maybe it's self-esteem, maybe ugly girls are freakier and easier, maybe these guys are addicts who don't mind dipping their puckers into toxic, cavernous wastelands. I really can't say. The one thing I know for sure is if a man disgraced me with random infidelities, the broads on his ho stroll had better be top shelf tail whose natural beauty would cause even me to nod begrudgingly with understanding. It's the least that cheating bastard could do.

At least then I could rationalise his behaviour. At least then, I could salve my wounds with the false belief that his fidelity was only compromised because a seductive temptress and her hypnotic vagina got in the way. But I tell you this. If he dared rub salt in my wounds by having sex with a woman whose face looks like a foot (see 3rd row, middle), I wouldn't take it out on him with an ironic 6 iron. I'd have a fucking weapon. You want to disrespect me with other women? Fine. Pack your bags and go. But if those women are gutter sluts who look like they just got bukkaked at a truck stop, I'm gonna fuck you up and then call a couple of hard, pipe-hitting fellas to go to work on you with a pair of pliers and a blow torch. What's that? I don't need to get medieval? Oh, well you must be confused. You see, this is what happens when you cheat with a bitch who looks like a fried running shoe.

So a much delayed bravo to Elin Nordegren for taking action. Maybe next time, she'll knock Tiger out on her own instead of having a tree and a fire hydrant handle the end game for her.

Awesome picture from: dlisted

Niko, Guest Poster

Hello, mates! My cousin is still down and out (she should be back on Monday), so you're stuck with me again.

The first thing I'm supposed to touch on is an article by the bloke at The Wade Blogs -- he sent something to my cousin for her "consideration" (she said that means I have to write on it), so here we go.

The Wade Blogs takes a look at the Ryder Cup pairings and evaluates their WAGS (wives & girlfriends for you non-Brits). Let me tell you, mates, some of these birds are a right vomitous mess. Laurae Westwood, Melissa Lehman, Glendryth Wooseman (who looks like Mrs. Doubtfire), Lisa Cink, Amy DiMarco, Tabitha Furyk -- Hideous.

I can maybe see shagging them if my life was in danger or if I had a burlap sack to cover up their mannish faces or if I was being blackmailed but bloody fucking Christ. When you're a professional golfer making millions of paper, you're allowed to have trophies and/or standards -- just look at Phil Mickelson. If he was an everyday bloke, he'd be clamoring for the likes of the above-mentioned Glendryth Wooseman instead of a woman completely out of his league like his wife, Amy.

I'll bet when Phil chats up God, the only thing he asks for is more championships and more money. If he lost it all tomorrow, something tells me Amy Mickelson's knickers would be coming up mighty fast. But rather than follow Phil for example, some of these blokes look like they waved the white flag and settled for women whose best skill is probably making pies.

Many of the WAGs fall in the middle of the pack and are not worth comment; there are also some that are rated a little too high -- e.g., Morgan Leigh-Norman who scores an "eagle" even though she looks like Greg Norman with female parts. But the article does include mentions of Elin Nordegren Woods, Amy Mickelson, and Diane Antonopoulos (all fully clothed, sadly), as well as a Sonya Toms shot from an SI Swimsuit issue. Bravo. I advise that when you visit this site today, don't go past Amy Mickelson... the further down you scroll, the more tragic it becomes.

Here are some of the unfortunate looking ones:

+

Keith Richards has quit drugs because he thinks the quality has gone down.

“All they do is try and take the high out of everything. I don’t like the way they’re working on the brain area instead of just through the blood system. That’s why I don’t take any of them any more.”

That's a bloke who knows his drugs, so maybe he's right. But Keef may want to consider the fact that one could make speedballs by using drops of his blood as a base ingredient. When the plaque that lines one's arteries is made of cocaine and heroin, I don't think a line will have the same effect as it did when you started drugging in 1946.

+ Today is Elephant Appreciation Day!

Send a card to the bird in your life and see if she comes looking for a fight.

Cheers!
Niko

Before we get moving, I'd like to offer a job well done to the United States. If their ball skills matched the heart displayed, they would have won by 4, but that was a spectacular effort from end to end and precisely the type of fighting spirit that was expected against the Czechs. It's anyone's guess how Jorge Larrionda's blatant cheating affected the game's actual outcome. The US hasn't scored a goal of its own in 180 minutes... would they have found a way against Italy were Larrionda not such a barrier? Who's to say? The speculation will continue until 2010, especially if the US fails to advance, but who knows - it could be a good thing.

Nothing rallies Americans together for a cause than better than their national teams getting screwed over by foreigners.

As an aside, I was talking to Chad on Saturday and he said that Larionda is lucky he screwed over a country that doesn't give a damn, otherwise, he'd probably be dead by now. I couldn't agree more. He wouldn't have survived the night.

----------------

They're calling it one of the greatest collapses in the history of the U.S. Open. I call it the return of Sunday Mickelson. If you didn't see this exercise in choke, you missed out on quite a show. After I saw Mickelson in share of the lead with Ferrie, I stopped watching the coverage. See (for the newbies around here), I have this petty, immature hatred for Phil Mickelson that is based solely in my dislike for his his FIGJAM attitude and the "I just took it up the pooper and no one knows" look on his face... oh, and the fact that he doesn't like Tiger Woods [For some unknown reason, I take this as a personal afront, much in the same way that I did when Gary Payton said Michael Jordan "isn't that good."] I hate him and I root for his demise at every turn.

So I got word on Sunday that Colin Montgomerie was preparing to take the lead and likely, the championship, at Winged Foot, but by the time I tuned in, the Scotsman had already choked away his chance for greatness by picking out the wrong club in the middle of the fairway, hitting a second shot into deep grass short of the green, and then finishing with a double bogey. So had Jim Furyk - he missed a five-foot putt for par at the 18th. And Padraig Harrington, only a shot behind with three to play, bogeyed his last three holes. All that was left was Phil Mickelson and he was teeing up on 18.

I was about to change the channel when Johnny Miller (who should be a commenter at every sporting event) said, "He better be hitting a 4-wood." When Johnny Miller is on somebody's case, I make it a point to hang in for a listen. And with that, the fat bastard took his drive over the crowd and onto the hospitality tent, a move that, according to Miller, had Ben Hogan turning in his grave. And from there, Philthy clipped a freaking tree and the ball landed around the point his original drive should have.

The amazing thing is Hefty still had a chance to pull off the Mickelslam and knowing my luck when it comes to a hated sports persons [the term "athlete" does not apply in this case] doing well, I refused to get my hopes up. I just knew he'd lay up on the green and hole it out for certain victory and smugness. Bu it didn't happen. Hefty landed dead in the sand trap. By that point, Johnny Miller had completely lost his mind, putting millions of viewers in hysterics:

"This is a nightmare. You couldn't have worst decisions on this hole. I know you all like Phil, but come on, all you have to do is make par on this hole. Just hit a 2 or 3-iron and another long iron onto the green (easier said than done) and see you later. You don't have to run down the stretch on a white stallion. You can limp in there and say 'thanks for the trophy'."

But why? What could have gotten to him?

Mickelson had one double bogey in the tournament and it happened on the 72nd hole. Did he not want to be apart of the conversation with Tiger in the way of being a true rival? Was he not prepared for the heap of expectations going back to back to back in majors would inspire? I haven't the slightest clue but Mickelson, and his record for most second place finishes in the history of golf can reclaim his seat in the Pantheon of Chumps. The only thing missing from a final like this was Tiger Woods returning to glory... Oh well. Maybe next time.

Since I called the guy out, I probably owe it to you to close the latest chapter in my book, Phil Mickelson Sucks It.  I'll try not to be completely obnoxious, which means this will be really short:

Phil Mickelson proved my point and won the Masters over the weekend thanks to his magical, no-effort clubs. He played well, this is true. But I believe he blew away the field on the final 18 for a reason... while the rest of the world's best were struggling against an unbelievably difficult, mentally taxing course, Philthy was swinging easy and free. It's a lot easier to command a course when you're one of the most talented golfers in the world and your clubs are doing all the work on the toughest holes. Bravo, Phil.

On a less obnoxious note, I was drafted as a shortstop in the first round of our summer baseball league last night. I'm currently in the hunt for a bat that will help me pull the ball. If anyone has any tips or knows how to create a legal bat like this, please email me. I'd appreciate it :)