The last few weeks I’ve found myself listening to more sports talk radio than usual.  In between listening to Sportszilla and the Jabber Jocks blather on about the NFL Lockout (“WE ARE GETTING CLOSER. I THINK THIS IS GONNA HAPPEN ANY DAY NOW), I’ve heard a gravelly-voiced guy referred to as “Coach” giving a bunch of dudes in what sounded like a locker room, a pep talk about drinking. A similar commercial features a Rex Ryan-wannabe that talks to a similar group of cheering men about being “that guy.” The background features a cheap “Explosions in the Sky”-esque guitar riff to build the anticipation. Are they hackneyed? Oh Lord, yes. Do they make me want to go out on a random Tuesday night and tie one on? Sort of. A few of the choice lines:

“Gentlemen, you were conceived on nights like tonight.”

Bullshit. This is also kind of insulting — is Budweiser insinuating my parents were hopped up on Bud Heavys when they decided to make a little Duke? A) My parents weren’t that cool; and B) thanks for making me think about how that whole process went down.

“Tonight, you’re up against it. It’s gonna be YOU against YOU.  Who you gonna be? You gonna be that guy who missed it?”

Oh, crap.  Someone let Jon Gruden in the building. But pangs of guilt are seeping in. Quoth the Cube: “Peer pressure is a motherf*cker.”

“You don’t want to be that guy that has to turn in early because he has work the next morning.”

Man, I do not want to be that guy.  I have too many friends who are that guy and they are lame. But… I also don’t want to be the guy who rolls into work reeking of booze with glassy eyes.  That guy usually ends up unemployed or in AA.

“That guy will never buy a round of Budweisers for the entire bar. We LOVE that guy.”

“See kids, there are 3 types of advertising messages: Subliminal, Liminal, and SuperLiminal.” — LT Smash

“Tonight is underrated…Tonight you can’t be disappointed… It’s just another night.”

Huh? It’s a Tuesday and I have a 9 o’clock meeting tomorrow. Do chicks even go out on Tuesday nights? I have the feeling I’m going to be sitting at a bar by myself until 11:30, when the bar closes BECAUSE IT’S A FREAKING TUESDAY NIGHT.

“It’s when you stayed up until the sun comes up.”

Does that mean I won’t be conceiving children tonight?  Or does that come after?  Because I’m gonna be tired.

“Put on your Saturday night outfit and make tonight the greatest night of your life.”

Help me out here — what is my “Saturday night outfit?” Can I wear jeans? Are flip flops to casual? Also, anyone else creeped out that “Coach” is telling me what “outfits” to wear?


Ok, ok, I get it. See you at the bar.

Reading Between the Headlines

It’s pretty easy to get obsessed with the MLB Trading Deadline, but as I get older I find myself getting tired of being jerked around.  In my mind, I’m able to live with certain guys no longer being on their previous team as long as I have proper time to visualize it.  For example, it was tough for me to accept Roy Oswalt in anything but an Astros uniform, but when I thought he’d land with the Cardinals, I started to make peace with it.  When he was traded to the Phillies, that messed up the entire part of my brain dedicated to processing Roy Oswalt’s existence in my feeble mind.  It’s a rather small existence, but still… Since there is a new Adam Dunn trade rumor just about every couple of hours, that part of me is in utter disarray.  I don’t know how I’ll contemplate him in a Tigers or White Sox uniform.  That wouldn’t look right.  What if he stays in Washington?  Will I still view him as a National or does part of me think of him as a rental from the Reds?  I don’t know.  That one may take some time.   But I do know this: it’s time to do some headlines:

Not a bad consolation prize for basically giving Cliff Lee away this past winter.  In the past year, the Phillies have traded for three of the best pitchers in baseball (combined career record: 402-222) without giving up their best prospect.  Ifthe Yankees had done this, we’d have to hold an intervention for story commenters.  Either way, Team Roy should form a pretty good 1-2 punch as the Phils try to get back to the World Series.

Bengals coach Marvin Lewis must be a glutton for punishment.  Here are his starting wide receivers, or as I like to call it, the “Depth Chart of Crazy”:

Chad Ochocinco: Twitter-addicted egomaniac who legally changed his name to “eight-five” in Spanish.  Budding reality TV star, possibly insane.

Terrell Owens: Egomaniacal cry baby who throws quarterbacks under the bus like temper tantrums: regularly.  Budding reality tv star, probably insane.

Antonio Bryant: Labeled as a “bad character” guy dating back to his college days at Pitt, he repeatedly gets into fights with his coaches, probably because of his ego, which usually leads to him having to find a new team (or because he fails a drug test).  Maybe insane.

See a trend here?  Sidenote: Marvin’s starting running back is Cedric Benson… So good luck with all that…

I don’t know what took the Orioles so long, but Showalter is probably the best hire the Orioles could have made.  He has a solid track record of getting his players to play disciplined baseball.  Granted, he usually gets fired after three or four

There's a part of me that forgot this ever happened.

seasons because his players grow to hate him, but with 32 wins through July, the O’s aren’t really in a place to call the shots.  One O’s fan reaction: “Did Showalter count how many times ‘major league worst’ can appear in one article about the Orioles before he took the position?”  Needless to say, Buck will have his work cut out for him.  First suggestion: hire this man!  You can never have too many “Bucks.”

The rumor circulating was that the writer misidentified himself to Team LeBron.  Silly ESPN, how dare they report something unflattering about a basketball player.  Best leave that to those scalawags at Deadspin!  And how come Bill Simmons wasn’t writing this piece?  He knows more about Vegas and the NBA than anyone!  Oh wait, it was because he was busy hopping off the Red Sox bandwagon to write a “This Third Place Boston Red Sox Team Doesn’t Entertain Me” article for the front page of

And then Glenn Beck said something stupid.  What else is new?

Comeback story of the week:

Duque is one of my favorite players of all time.  He tells people he’s 44 years old but it’s probably closer to 46.  Despite his World Series rings and career earnings over $34M, he’s still holding on to the dream.  Or he’s broke.  I hope it’s not the latter.  Either way, I’ll be pulling for him.

That’s it for me.  If you need me, I’ll be on a gigantic boat, resting my shoulder, preparing for one last summer push into the MLB playoff races and the start of football.  Gotta make some room in my brain: