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Archive for November, 2010

And at least we have moved forward from matches in which England batsmen score double tons in Australia and still lose (see: Paul Collingwood, Adelaide, 2006).  That second innings was superb and far better than I expected following the first, so fair play to Messrs. Strauss, Trott, and especially Cook and his 235 not out (which brought his total for the match over 300, incidentally).

The internet, shockingly, has rather failed us on cute pictures, either from his first century, or the second one, so here’s a nice one that will make you feel better about the mildly grim weather we’ve been having:

That's a lot of runs there.

Most importantly, what should Cooky’s new epithet be?  We’re sticking with an S, because I use “SAC” in my head.  Yup, I do.

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You know who’s not a rapist?  Almost everyone in the NFL.  For example, second-string right guard for the Jacksonville Jaguars, Justin Smiley:

Possibly not eye candy.

Congratulations, Justin Smiley.  You are more awesome than Ben Roethlisberger.  Keep up the good work!

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But they do provide some hilarious photos.  Here’s the best of this year’s crop, from a reception at No. 10, Downing Street:

What are those things on the walls?

I think the best part is how Roger Federer looks fifteen years older than everyone else, because he has a real person haircut, a pin-striped suit, and an expression that doesn’t make him look mentally deficient or stoned.  And I really want to know what he could possibly have said that made Nadal that non-plussed.

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The NFL has a PEDs problem.

And they’re doing nothing about it.

Say what you will about Bud Selig.  He’s thinking about ruining the postseason, and he’s kind of a weenie, and perhaps most damningly, he was commissioner in 1994 (we don’t like to talk about what happened that year).  He also presided over the steroids era.  But–and this is a big deal–he also cracked down on steroids.  I’m sure we haven’t heard the last of PEDs in baseball, and perhaps we never will, but at least the sport is clearly making an effort to keep its players off drugs, and if this year’s mini dead-ball era is any indication, it is at least partially succeeding.

Those forehead bulges are not natural.

How do we reward baseball for taking steps to solve its PED problem? We watch football, because it has real players, not just a bunch of money-grubbing jacked-up cheaters…right?  Believe me when I say that the last thing I want to hear about is how my favorite football players drugged their way up to 300 pounds, or how they felt they couldn’t compete without the edge that drugs provide, or how everyone was doing it and they didn’t think it was a big deal.  But I don’t have to hear about it to know that it’s true.  I just have to watch Clay Matthews celebrating a sack.

I LOVE linebackers! But they are on roids.

I’ve said this before in the context of cycling, but I’ll say it again here.  The number of positive tests results for PEDs in a sport is not an accurate measure of its drug problem.  If the NFL isn’t catching its players using drugs as often as the MLB is, it’s because it isn’t testing them as frequently.

So don’t be uppity, NFL. Your players’ knees should be able to support their weight. They shouldn’t be getting weird muscle tears and injuring ligaments we’ve never heard of. And don’t even get me started on concussions.

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This is insane.

It is also not at all frivolous.  Here’s a piece on the Pakistani cricketer who is seeking asylum in the UK because he received death threats for refusing to throw matches.

Boggles the mind, puts things in perspective, yadda yadda yadda…  Mostly: crazy and terrible.

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You may have seen that a couple of dancers at Tennessee-Chattanooga were benched for complaining that their shorts were too short. Good for them (actually), and, wow, nice going, Chattanooga athletics (not).

We have cheerleaders and dancers.  Fine.  I think they’re dumb and pointless and incipiently misogynist, but we have them, and we’ve had them for a while, and they’re not going away.  And their prime function is to be cute girls on the sidelines in case the game isn’t worth watching.  (Yes, that is their prime function.  No, they do not lead cheers.  No, it is not a sport.  Yes, you are merely lying to yourself.)

Less blond, still appallingly handsome.

But, even if we have accepted that, we can still draw a line.  Cheerleaders are supposed to be attractive.  This does not mean they have to dress like street-walkers.  And they shouldn’t, because that makes a bad thing worse.  We don’t have to return to Sandra Dee poodle skirts and sweaters, but the USC Song Girls don’t dress like prostitutes, and I think everyone is on board with their vibe.  There are places other than football games to see women take their clothes off, if that’s your thing.

And, hey, sportswriters?  It’s not cool to insinuate that cheerleaders are skanks anyway, so that no one, least of all the cheerleaders themselves, is allowed to complain about the outfits.

In other, way better news, Fernando Torres seems to be less injured and scored two against Chelsea at the weekend, so as a good conduct prize we’ll spot you a photo.

 

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We’ll get over this eventually, but I inadvertently stumbled across this picture just now, so…hooray for the San Francisco Giants, their championship, and their apparently crippling aversion to mirrors.

Yikes.

Yes, it’s not the kindest picture we could have found.  But it will give you the correct reaction, which is an urge to call the authorities and never get within ten feet of this horrifying, home-run-hitting, hirsute monster.

Oh, and PS: Game 5 established that Mr. Lincecum is indeed trying something in the facial hair department (or forgot his dopp kit), but we’re going to have pity on you and just let it go.

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