Hey everybody, it’s a new video from the the Austin foursome Mish Way recently suggested might be really adept at sex. Someday. Who can tell for certain? If I was in speculation business, I’d bet their next single is fucking great, too. Either way, killer performance by Andy Serkis.
Former Mets catcher / scourge of Long Island high schools / thoroughbred racing enthusiast Paul Lo Duca chatted with WFAN’s Joe Benigno-Gazingo & Evan Roberts Friday, and when the trio weren’t talking Belmont Stakes, Boogie Shoes offered a scathing assessment of the current Queens backstop corps. From the New York Post’s Justin Terranova :
“I could hit better left-handed than the schmucks they’ve got there now,” Lo Duca said.
Lo Duca, who was named in the Mitchell Report in 2007, saved most of his frustration for Omar Minaya. The former Mets GM acquired the veteran catcher from the Marlins for two minor leaguers before the 2006 season.
“The issue that the Mets have is that after 2006 and 2007, when we all were there … they stuck their hopes in a guy that, let’s be honest, had no clue what was going on,” said Lo Duca, who signed with the Nationals before the 2008 season.
“None. The guy was an idiot. And he ended up making the franchise go backwards. Where the Mets have always made the mistake is they’ve always settled for mediocrity. As a Mets fan, I’m done with it. Besides ’06 and ’07, give me some other years besides 2000 … And then they go build this ballpark that’s mammoth, and your franchise player [David Wright] is a hitting star who has four home runs!”
In early May, 3 members of the University Of Oregon Men’s Basketball squad, Damyean Dotson (above), Dominic Artis and Brandon Austin were suspended from the team in connection with rape allegations from two months earlier. Though the Lane County D.A. declined to press charges, it was reported that Austin had transfered to Oregon after being investigated in connection with a sexual assault claim in Providence last November. On Thursday, the accuser in the former case issued the following letter to The Daily Emerald thru her attorney :
An open letter from a fellow Duck:
The past few months have, undeniably, been the hardest and most challenging time in my life. This is such an overwhelming experience and one that I hope that no other student on campus ever has to live through. Given what has transpired on campus recently, I have at times wondered whether I ever should have told anyone about what had happened.
I know a lot of people are angry. I am angry, too. I am angry with the culture that appears to exist in our athletic department that prioritizes winning over safety of our students. I cannot fathom how our basketball coach recruited someone who was in the middle of a suspension for another sexual assault to come to Eugene. I think that students, faculty, and other community members have been asking some very needed questions of our athletic department, and I am not satisfied with the answers they have provided. I think that we all deserve better explanations and real transparency.
Despite my frustration, it is important to me to thank the Dean of Students office. They have been very kind and supportive of me and I can’t thank them enough. I’m not sure I would still be on campus if it weren’t for their help.
I know this has stirred up a lot of issues on campus and some of them are bigger than my incident. My sincere hope, though, is that as a school UO can get through this and come out in a better place at the end. I still love our school and I want it to be the best and safest place anywhere in the country.
(culled from Permanent Records’ Instagram account)
To paraphrase Rick Pitino, you have to realize that Cronos, Mantis and Abaddon aren’t walking thru that door. But I truly wish they would, if only to reclaim scarves from the Venus Illuminato.
Typically, shirt sponsors for soccer clubs run the gamut from internet gambling sites, software giants (and minows), beverage purveyors, tire warehouses, etc. The Scottish Championship’s Raith Rovers, however, will feature the website of crime novelist Val McDermid next season, with Rovers’ marketing guru telling The Scotsman “it is an honour for a provincial club like Raith Rover to be involved with a world famous author.”
Despite living in the North of England, the author is often spotted at Rovers matches, including their Scottish Cup quarter-final tie with St Johnstone in March.
She said: “The benefit has never been clearer than in this coming season.”
“With the arrival of Rangers, Hibernian and Hearts in our division, there will be many more visitors to Stark’s Park.
“There will be massively more media interest, with photographers and TV cameras sending images of our ground and our players all round the world.”
McDermid’s main novels have been series based on the characters Lindsay Gordon, Kate Brannigan, Tony Hill and Carol Jordan.
Unwilling to let 50 Cent or Tara The Hero Cat snare all the ceremonial first pitch glory, Robocop was the guest of honor at Comerica Park Tuesday for the Blue Jays/Tigers tilt. For Detroit OF Rajai Davis, the event proved a futile attempt to glean some wisdom from a Motor City icon far more beloved than Jason Von Bondie, as the Detroit Free Press’ George Sipple explains :
“Very few words spoken,” Davis said. “It was a really nice experience having RoboCop out there. The real RoboCop — that’s what I call him, anyways.”
“I came up on that movie, that was one of my all-time favorite movies,” Davis said. “I wanted to be like RoboCop when I grew up, except for the fact that RoboCop doesn’t like thieves. I came up to be a pretty good thief, stealing a lot of good bases.
“Me and RoboCop butted heads a little bit out there. That was the big problem we had in our meeting today.”
Davis said he didn’t think it was clear to RoboCop that stealing bases was legal.
(the following is an unpaid advertisement for a July 25 event at Beerland)
Websites including but not limited to American Songwriter Noisey, NPR.com, and Meet-an-Inmate.com all lost their shit over the new OBN III’s album, ‘Third Time To Harm’ (Tic Tac Totally) and with good reason ; it’s far and away the heaviest and most powerful OBN III’s record to date. Months have elapsed since this band has darkened Beerland’s doors — odd are very slim they’ll be anything other than ready-to-slay on this occasion.
Meet Your Death pose the question, “what happens when you combine wiley vets John Schooley (guitar) & Walter Daniels (harmonica) with the modern all-star rhythm section of Matt Hammer and Harpal Assi?” How the fuck should I know? The show hasn’t happened yet. Look, if you want Nostradamus to write these blurbs, by all means text hi and see what’s up. I’m under enough pressure as is.
Leo Durocher famously said “nice guys finish last”, but I’m pretty sure he never met Church Shoes. He did, however, have a cameo in the best-ever episode of “Mr. Ed” (above). Is that an acceptable trade-off for never hearing the exceptional rock’n’roll craftsmanship of Austin’s favorite Indiana transplants? Actually, that’s a really tough call, but it’s not a choice you’ll have to make in your lifetime.
We’re in the midst of a golden age for new-ish Austin trios, the likes of which historians will some day attempt to understand via carbon dating (or the archives of the city’s many excellent, well-written music blogs, in particular, the one edited by Norman Wanklord). Trouble is, you won’t be able to rely on these well-researched accounts because you’ll most likely be a pile of bones buried somewhere deep in the ground. Instead, you could turn up early for Zach, Taylor & Rhys, aka the fantastic BORZOI and do everything possible to get your mind off the fact that the clock’s ticking and you’re fucking Soylent Green.
A victory tonight in Philadelphia would leave the New York Mets just a game under .500 and a mere 4 games out of first place in the NL East, ensuring, if nothing else, that the lofty goal of playing meaningful baseball in the month of June will have been accomplished. Before you get ready for the press conference announcing Terry Collins’ extension, however, consider these same, unheralded, under-financed Mets, have already managed a major achievement this season, one that’s been kept an unlikely secret until now. On Monday, the Star Ledger’s Mike Vorkunov reported that last April 30, the Mets broke the single day record for cheesesteaks consumed in the Citizens Bank Park visitors clubhouse, with 103 of said sandwiches devoured over a ten hour span (“though baseball may be a sequence of individualized events, this was the work of a collective. It was planned two cheesesteaks per person, or more for those that were willing to help out where other teammates could not eat their share.”)
By the time the Mets left for Denver, distended and at over-capacity, they were now record-holders, breaking the previous mark that stood somewhere in the 80s.
Though impressive, perhaps it should not have been surprising. When it comes to eating cheesesteaks, the Mets are the 1961 Yankees, and their bullpen catchers, Dave Racaniello and Eric Langill (above), are the Mantle and Maris.
In chasing the record, Langill followed the necessary stratagem. He did not eating breakfast in the morning. He took the early bus, at 1:30 in the afternoon for a night game, to Citizens Bank Park to allow him more time to eat.
The first two were easy, but by the fifth it became a challenge. To ease the burden, he vacillated between chicken and steak fillings. When he came home at night, he felt overwhelmingly bloated. After the second game, the night of his birthday, he could barely finish a beer.
Racaniello took the lost mark with aplomb. As Langill shot for his title, he set about trying to become the single-day champion. In eating seven and a half cheesesteaks, he did, waking up the next morning with a face puffy from all the sodium he had consumed.
This is not the first time Langill has found himself the center of media attention ; in 2012 he was charged with DUI and leaving the scene of an accident on foot following a club bowling tournament in Port St. Lucie, FL.
That Tampa’s Rays typically play to sparse crowds is hardly news and Tropicana Field is rarely mentioned in any short lists of baseball’s most beloved venues. So why then, is it necessary for the Washington Post’s Norman Chad (above) to compile a list of things to do in Tampa (besides, y’know, make a music video with excellent production values)?
1. Applebee’s: One app, two entrees for $20.
2. Spit off the top of the Sulphur Springs Water Tower.
3. Make your own apricot chutney.
4. Hang out on your front stoop quietly until you feel compelled to utilize the Sunshine State’s fabulous Stand Your Ground statute.
5. Go to Whole Foods, and for the cost of a Rays upper-box ticket, buy a one-pound wedge of Humboldt Fog cheese.
6. Put a message in a bottle into Tampa Bay, then drive down to see if it makes it to the Florida Keys.
7. Just watch the Rays on TV from home; better view than Tropicana Field, nicer bathrooms.
So there’s at least two notable things about Trinity’s athletic programs.
(publicists for Don Howland, Lamont Thomas had the weekend off)
For starters, i wanna make it very clear that I am not here to criticize Jack White, who I only have the highest regard for (much like my feelings for Duffy, Adele and Amy Winehouse). That said, his apology letter following widely reported hostile remarks directed at The Black Keys, is a masterclass in passive aggression and still-managing-to-tell-someone-to-fuck-off within the confines of an apology.
Let’s put aside for a moment your feelings about his music, personal life, who’s-really-watered-down,
monopolization of a certain pressing plant that shall remain nameless, etc. and simply concentrate on the insane artistry required to do the following in what’s titled “An Apology & Explanation” :
1) “I wish the band the Black Keys all the success that they can get”
Translation : “good luck, you untalented motherfuckers.”
2) “I hope the best for their record label Nonesuch who has such a proud history in music, and in their efforts to bring the Black Keys songs to the world.”
Translation : “Hopefully, Nonesuch aren’t too tarnished by the association with the Black Keys”
3) “I hope for massive success also for their producer and songwriter Danger Mouse and for the other musicians that their band employs”
Translation : “If I had enough room, I’d send out well wishes to their guitar tech, caterer, personal trainers, stylists and dog-walkers, too. ANYTHING to avoid acknowledging those two fucks as human beings.”
4) “Lord knows that I can tell you myself how hard it is to get people to pay attention to a two piece band with a plastic guitar, so any attention that the Black Keys can get in this world I wish it for them, and I hope their record stays in the top ten for many months and they have many more successful albums in their career”
TRANSLATION : “Once again, I need to remind everyone where these untalented motherfuckers copped their shit from. What are their names again?”
I’m deeply impressed. We’re used to faux apologies in which some jackass declares, “I’m sorry if anyone was offended”, but this is a new twist, ie.. how to “apologize” while still letting everyone you know you think the subject of the apology is beneath contempt.
Who amongst us hasn’t pondered how good Joy Division might’ve been had they been recorded by Spot (NOT SPOT LONG OF TRAILER SPACE, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?) instead of Martin Hannett? Don’t all raise your hands at once.
OK, maybe I’m the only one that’s woken up in the middle of the night grappling with that particular “what if?” But I’ll bet I’m not not nearly the only person that’s about to be poleaxed by The Dead Space’s long-awaited debut album, ‘Faker’ (12XU 063-1). The trio of bassist/vocalist Quin Galavis, guitarist Garrett Hadden and drummer Jenny Arthur have been honing their craft in Austin, TX since high school, but after a 7” on Hadden’s excellent Thread Pull label (Flesh Lights, Foreign Mothers), a song on the second ‘Casual Victim Pile’ comp. (12XU, 2012) the moment is long overdue for The Dead Space to put-it-all-together. And that’s exactly what they’ve done —this is a band whose blend of tension, fragility and genuine muscle —certainly in the spirit of avowed influences like Joy Division, Bauhaus and Swans without being remotely copyist ——has never been nearly this confident or incandescent.
(photo : Eric Karjala)
We’re a couple of years past The Dead Space making the good-to-great leap ; at present, they’re in the middle of that awkward period I like to call the “How Have You Assholes Slept On This Amazing Band?” Stage. And while the recent notoriety of their other projects might elevate The Dead Space’s profile a tad (ie. Galavis’ beautiful solo works or the heavier jams laid down with Nazi Gold, Hadden’s recent participation in Ghetto Ghouls), ‘Faker’’ Is The Real Deal. Like Evander Holyfield. Don’t be a fucking Charley Steiner. Preorder here.
Would it be fair to say Austin’s These Are Words decided to lay down a gauntlet of one sort or another when they changed their name to the decidedly more malevolent GHETTO GHOULS —- culled from the old lady-stomping street gang in “The Exterminator” (1980, dir – James Glickenhaus). Actually, it would be a colossal reach, the sort persons like yourself make on a daily basis, I reckon.
Fresh off a widely acclaimed debut LP for Austin’s Monofonus Press, Ghetto Ghouls have been likened to such regional predecessors as Bobby Soxx or The Dicks, but there’s echoes of X-Blank-X or ‘Live At The Witch Trails’-era Fall in their staggery swagger (especially if you play an old Fall record at the bottom of a well while listening to Ghetto Ghouls up above). In a town where the best gigs often straddle the line between parties and disasters, a ridiculously high percentage of those shows seem to occur with this quartet right in the middle of the action.
This 7” couples a pair of songs from the S/T LP sessions that either represent 12XU getting the cream of the crop or the goddamn leftovers. Think very carefully before you decide which of those two scenarios is most likely, because I’ve got a looooooong fucking memory.
RIYL : getting beer spilled on you, people not apologizing for spilling beer. Preorder here.
Appearing earlier today on ESPN’s “Outside The Lines” to discuss the Washington nickname flap, NFL senior vice president of labor policy and government affairs Adolpho Birch (above) was asked by Andy Katz if “Redskins” constituted a racial slur. USA Today’s Erik Brady recaps the comedic highights that followed :
“The team name is not a slur,” Birch said. “The team name is the team name, as it has been for 80-plus years.”
The Nation’s Dave Zirin, appearing on the broadcast, said that’s like saying an orange is not a fruit. Oneida Nation spokesman Joel Barkin offered a similar simile.
“That’s like saying the planet is not getting warmer,” Barkin told USA TODAY Sports. “The NFL is getting to be like the climate deniers.”
Demonstrating a command of public relations slightly somewhere between that of Dave Hudgens and Dino Costa, Washington Redskins owner Daniel Snyder (above) responded to Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid’s public plea for the team to change their name by encouraging Washington fans to send tweets to the Senator bearing the hashtag, “#RedskinPride”. Said tactic backfired spectacularly, with Washington fans and others taking to Twitter en masse to ridicule Snyder. While Reid might be above gloating, his spokesperson certainly isn’t, as the following quotes compiled by DC Sports Bog’s Dan Steinberg demonstrate :
“From our perspective, what we saw was just overwhelming opposition” to the team name, Faiz Shakir, Reid’s digital director, told me. “It’s really made our day.”
Shakir did not know the Redskins were set to launch this campaign; when he saw the team’s tweet, he guessed “that they probably had coordinated something on the front end” and was waiting for Reid’s account to be besieged with protests.
That, though, isn’t what he saw. Shakir said he was “pleasantly surprised” by the reactions, many of which caused laughter in Reid’s offices.
“From my perspective, Twitter and social media in general is a wonderful outlet, because it gives a voice to so many people,” Shakir said. “What we saw was a collective, overwhelming outpouring that was heavily critical of the team. I hope that causes the organization to reflect on why that occurred.”
You’ve all seen the footage of 50 Cent making like Rick Ankiel in the 2000 NLDS the other night, but it’s taken the Washington Post’s KnowMore and Christopher Ingram to illustrate that Fiddy sucks even worse than Carly Rae Jespen or Gary Dell’Abate (when it comes to throwing a baseball).
Judging from the reaction in the Costa household when two men dared to embrace and kiss on television a few weeks ago, it’s a fair bet the kids were hustled off to bed early during Game 5 of the NBA Eastern Conference Finals. Because we all know what one man blowing in another man’s ear is a prelude to ; deferring to Chris Bosh with the game on the line.
And no parent wants to see their children learn from that example.
(screenshot courtesy SBN / Grant Brisbee)
It’s been a whirlwind 48 hours for former Mets hitting coach Dave Hudgens, who went from “is he Vanessa’s dad?” status to internet laughing stock in rapid succession (kudos, however. to that team player, Dino Costa, for taking the heat off Dave). And while it’s hard not to scoff at Hudgen blaming the Amazins’ offensive woes on a) SNY broadcasters, b) the few remaining fans who could stomach the collection of contact-phobic hitters Hudgens allegedly coached, it is equally difficult not to take pause at the prospect of Jeff Wilpon being the club’s real general manager.
The younger Wilpon (above), whose glittering baseball resume includes supervision of the construction of the very baseball venue that has so horribly perplexed and intimidated Hudgens’ former chargers (most prominently, David Wright, whom the club are paying more money than God to hit singles, play an above-average 3rd base and smile thru 90 loss seasons) is said by Capital New York’s Howard Megdal to have demanded the firing of Hudgens.. Writes Megdal, “it’s one thing for ownership to decline to give Alderson money it doesn’t have. It’s quite another, autonomy-wise, to force Alderson to fire baseball personnel.”
During Monday’s disappointing 5-3 loss at home to the Pirates, Jeff Wilpon sent Alderson an angry text, and followed it up with an angry call. Then, after the game, they had an angry meeting.
But at that meeting, according to a knowledgeable source, Wilpon did something new: He overruled his general manager on a baseball matter, ordering him to fire hitting coach Dave Hudgens, a longtime Alderson friend and colleague.
This incursion into baseball decisions by Wilpon would seem to indicate that Alderson will have limited latitude as he tries to improve the team despite severe payroll constraints.
If Alderson he couldn’t overcome Jeff Wilpon’s bright ideas and Fred Wilpon’s wallet when he had the discretion to make his own baseball decisions, what chance does he have now?
Memorial Day 2014 saw every MLB club donning camouflage caps and camo-lettered jerseys, a recent tradition that irks the Globe & Mail’s Cathal Kelly, who finds such wartime trappings inappropriate for the Toronto Blue Jays. “We are the United States’ global partner, not its kid brother,” argues Kelly. “When you’re traipsing around a ball field in a simulation of battledress, you’re making the whole thing seem like fun..I doubt anybody who’s been through it feels that way.”
Every time Canada does one of these overreaching, ‘Please like us’ efforts on the U.S., I am reminded of Homer Simpson’s rationale for not wanting to travel here on vacation: “Why should we leave America to visit America Jr.?”
There is the disorienting sense of rah-rah about the whole thing. It’s a celebration, which seems the wrong tone if what we are doing is honouring those who have been harmed or risked harm on our behalf.
Seeing your heroes running around in camo is neither heartening nor instructive. It’s toying with politics. Cheering in that environment is a mandate of the hive mind, because are you going to be the one guy who sits on his hands while everyone is standing? No matter how good the intention, it’s coercive and arbitrary.
When you don the trappings of war in an environment that has nothing to do with real battle, you are play-acting. I’m not sure what the sight of 17 Americans, five Dominicans, a Venezuelan and an Australian wearing the distinctive camo of the Canadian military is supposed to mean to Canadians. The only guy who makes any sense is Brett Lawrie.
I’m also trying to imagine Carlos Delgado – who famously sat during God Bless America as an act of protest – going along with this.
Though it’s hardly news to those who’ve had the good fortune to follow the CSTB twitter feed, former Sirius/XM host-turned-web portal hopeful Dino Costa has filled his website with “news” items, culled from a variety of major news organizations. If you’re wondering, “hey, how’s that any different from what CSTB and countless aggregator sites do everyday?”, there’s a few crucial differences. For starters, Dino’s site cuts and pastes THE ENTIRE FUCKING ARTICLE. Not the odd paragraph or two, but the entire piece. Most damningly, unlike every halfway reputable sportsblog on the planet, Costa’s site fails to credit the author(s) or attribute these copywritten materials to their owners, be they the Washington Post, ESPN.com, the Miami Herald, you name it.
Though these ethical lapses have noted frequently — both by myself and frequent Costa sparring partner Tracy Ringolsby — it wasn’t until this afternoon, when Awful Announcing’s Matt Yoder cataloged several of Costa’s acts of theft, replete with screen shots, that Dino found the sort of notoriety he narrowly missed when he said he’d sooner poke his son’s eyes out than allow him to watch Michael Sam french kiss a man.
Through the auspices of his Twitter account — not, I should stress, the same one that at one time had nearly 40,000 fake followers —- Dino apologized, but not before calling Yoder, “a mental midget of epic proportions” (JUMBO SHRIMP! ON SALE HERE!) and blaming the entire debacle on an unnamed 3rd party.
If you’re keeping score, in the space of less than a month, Dino’s managed to lose his website/podcast’s sole sponsor and find himself nationally vilified for blatant, repeated acts of plagiarism. At this point, he’s gonna have to do something very dramatic to restore faith in his (sad sack) investors and re-energize his pathetic fan base (all 12 of whom have suffered almost as much vicarious humiliation as they experience in their real lives). He could always resort to another David Duke booking, but maybe DD would sooner hold out for someone with more credibility or mainstream appeal?
(above far left : just another media creep who’s never swung a bat)
Following the Mets’ Memorial Day 5-3 loss to Pittsburgh, a game marked by Jacob DeGrom’s 3rd consecutive strong start and yet another display of ineffectiveness from reliever Jose Valverde, the latter was waived and hitting coach Dave Hudgens was terminated. Given that Hudgens held his position for 4 years, it would be difficult to argue he’d not been given an opportunity to refine his tutorial chops, but he’s pissed nonetheless. Quoted by Newsday’s Marc Carig, Hudgens seems to think he’s been buried by, well, Keith Hernandez.
Did Hudgens believe he got a fair shake?
“It depends on who you’re talking about, from who,” Hudgens told Newsday Monday night in a phone interview, just a few hours after his dismissal. “From Sandy, from the front office, from the players, from Terry [Collins], from the other coaches, yeah, absolutely.”
He omitted team ownership. Hudgens and Alderson have ties dating to their time with the Athletics organization.
“The naysayers, the guys who disapprove of us, the guys who I listen to on TV all the time, those guys that know everything about the game, I’m just amazed at it,” Hudgens said. “What’s wrong with getting a good pitch to hit? Somebody, please punch a hole in that for me. I just shake my head at the old-school guys that have it all figured out. Go up there and swing the bat. Well, what do you want to swing at? It just confounds me. It’s just hilarious, really.”
“That’s one thing. I’m glad I don’t have to listen to those guys anymore.”
What could Keith Hernandez possibly know about hitting big league pitching? How dare he question Hudgens’ proven track record? Hudgens tells Carig that “every one of the players came in and gave me a hug” upon his departure, and presumably those ranks include the team captain who is on pace to hit 10 HR’s this season (or less).
With the New York Rangers on the brink of advancing to the Stanley Cup Finals, what better time for the New York Post’s Zach Braziller to distract Mets radio voice Howie Rose from his miserable full-time gig with memories of his most fateful piece of hockey commentary, which celebrates it’s 20th anniversary tomorrow night. To wit, Stephane Matteau’s double OT goal that gave the Rangers a Game 7 victory over the New Jersey Devils in the 1994 Eastern Conference Finals :
“It’s a moment that a lot of broadcasters work their entire careers for and never get,” Rose said before calling Monday’s Mets-Pirates game at Citi Field on WOR 710 AM. “Particularly now, with the 20th anniversary [on Tuesday] and the Rangers on a pretty great run, there are even more reminders today than the last couple of years.
“For it to have endured for 20 years, it’s pretty neat. I will say that I don’t think it would have taken on the apparent life it has had they not won the Cup.”
“The overriding thing I felt was the pressure to get every single play right,” the two-time Emmy Award winner and member of the National Jewish Sports Hall of Fame recalled. “Your focus as an announcer is so intense. My attention to the puck was so acute and fixed, and a lot of it had to do with the location where we broadcasted at the Garden [above the tunnel where the teams entered and exited].
“It wasn’t an ideal location for hockey. In a perfect world, you like to be higher up, but in that particular case, the vantage point made it easy for me to keep my eyes glued to the puck. It was almost magnetic. [My eyes] were almost attached to the Rangers’ crest on the puck. There wasn’t any deliberation, any guesswork. It was the product of just basically reporting what I saw, which was reporting Matteau scoring the goal.”
(EDITOR’S NOTE : Because I’m
a lazy motherfucker today is Bob Dylan’s birthday, here’s something special from August 22, 2008 – GC)
The New York Post’s Page 6 helpfully provides an excerpt from comedian Tommy Chong’s soon-to-be-released tome, “Cheech & Chong: The Unauthorized Autobiography”, including the shocking claim that unlike fellow Minnesotan Prince Rogers Nelson, Bob Dylan most certainly doesn’t have game.
“Bob Dylan wrote and recorded so many meaningful, historic songs,” writes Chong. But his genius didn’t extend to dribbling. “Bob had a good jump shot and some pretty good moves – but when he tried driving past me for a lay-up, the Canadian ice hockey player in me came out . . . I dumped him on his ass.“
Chong also recounts a disastrous meeting with his idol, Jack Nicholson.
“[He] stared at me as if to say, You [bleep]ing idiot! Is that all you can say? . . . Is this why you exist? To bug the hell out of us celebrities who just want to be left alone to drink, snort coke and [bleep] adoring fans? Why don’t you get out of my face and let me continue on my way forgetting that we ever met, OK? . . . My pot high evaporated . . . I vowed that when I got as famous as Jack, I would never disrespect my fans.”
But Nicholson later inadvertently helped the duo score a hit record as they rode with him to a Lakers game and he sped into oncoming traffic to make time. “Whenever Cheech got nervous he would begin to sing . . a popular song and add his own crazy words,” writes Chong. That night it happened to be a version of “Love Jones,” which he sang as “Basketball Jones . . . I got a basketball jones.” It was so catchy, “we recorded the master the next night.”
Next week : Roland A. Duby on the time he broke up a double play with a spikes-first slide into Phil Ochs’ ankle.