She’s back. We honestly can’t get rid of her. She keeps showing up on our doorstep, trying to look through the peephole to see if we’re home. We think she might also be following us around town. We figure if she’s gonna be here, might as well let her keep writing. That’s right, Diane Sevenay has another very serious and factual sports breakdown to share.
I’m not sure who received worse news about his groin this week, Arian Foster or Lenny Kravitz. But while all Kravitz needs to do is buy a pair of pants that fit, the Houston Texans have a much tougher road ahead as they attempt to replace Foster. Reports say that Pierre Thomas turned down the Texans’ offer to join their backfield, and this leaves Houston with only a 14-year-old girl and a department-store mannequin to play running back this year. However, there can be help on the way if the Texans decide to bring in one of these possible replacements:
1. Ashton Kutcher – If he replaced Charlie Sheen, he can replace Arian Foster.
2. OJ Simpson – Pros: Outstanding slasher with a killer instinct. Cons: He’s a 68-year-old man who’s currently in prison.
3. Ronda Rousey – Who in their right mind would attempt to tackle Ronda Rousey? Sign her, Houston, or she’ll beat you up.
4. Jason Pierre-Paul’s index finger – This finger was an NFL star once, and it could be again if given an opportunity.
5. Rudy – Could there be a better story than RUDY leading the Texans to the Super Bowl? Yes, Rudy Ruettiger is a 66-year-old man who wasn’t very good at football when he played at Notre Dame in the 1970s, but nothing can stop this guy once he sets his mind to something.
6. Michael Strahan – Since joining “LIVE with Kelly and Michael,” this former NFL superstar has had people saying, “Regis who?”
7. Groot – He’d be the first sentient tree in the NFL. Make this happen, Texans.
8. Donald Trump – He swears he’ll make America great. Why not start with Houston?
9. Jim Thorpe – Pros: Thorpe is one of history’s greatest athletes and football players. Cons: He has been dead for over 60 years.
10. Batman – He’s not the hero Houston deserves, but the one it needs right now.
Diane Sevenay, a friend to The Scoop, is a writer and comedian who claims that she “invented the Internet.” Follow her immediately on Twitter at @diane_7a or face dire consequences.
Unless you’re living under a rock, you’ve probably heard that Tom Brady‘s four-game suspension has been upheld by the NFL. Love him or hate him, we’ll miss Brady when he’s not on the field. But let’s see this from Brady‘s point of view. Every September since he was a young boy, he has been living and breathing football. What is he going to do without an extremely deflated football in his hand and a game to win? How can he fill this emptiness in his heart? What can Tom Brady do while serving his suspension?
1. Be obscenely and arrogantly wealthy.This will be pretty easy for you to accomplish, Tom. Instead of buying a car, buy 15. Why just settle for a swimming pool that wraps around your house when you can also have one in your kitchen? Or two…
2. Sleep with your ridiculously good-looking model wife. You know you want to, Tom. Now’s your chance!
3. Run for public office. Do I see a Trump-Brady ticket in your future?
4. Get a makeover. A new hairstyle and a snazzy new wardrobe can add up to a WHOLE NEW Tom Brady.
5. Write the great American novel. I’m thinking Gronk fan fiction. Because EVERYONE loves Gronk fan fiction.
6. Take up another sport. You’re already the Michael Jordan of football. Now be the Michael Jordan of BASEBALL!
7. Start filming “Ted 3.” According to Ted the teddy bear, “Tom Brady is a f*cking wicked awesome actor.”
8. Start a feud with Drake and/or Nicki Minaj. You know you want to, Tom…
9. Write season 3 of “True Detective.” Because it can’t be any worse than season 2.
10. Learn how to stop cheating at football. I know it’s going to be tough, but you can do it. I think…
Diane Sevenay, a friend to The Scoop, is a writer and comedian who claims that she “invented the Internet.” Follow her immediately on Twitter at @diane_7a or face dire consequences.
Diane Sevenay returns, reluctantly, to share a filthy, yet factual, account of LeSean McCoy‘s party lifestyle. Well, at least we think it’s factual. Hell, it’s probably not. Eff it. We need the page views. We should probably also warn you about a couple of mature topics within this article. Don’t read this to your kiddies before naptime. Or ever, really.
The Buffalo Bills traded for running back LeSean “Shady” McCoy to bring a little “heat” to their backfield. However, this week’s news was not what the Bills had in mind. Multiple media outlets reported that McCoy posted an invitation to a private “females only” party, and the general response was disgust. Well, not to brag or anything, but I happened to attend McCoy‘s party last year, so maybe I could shine a light on what “Shady” is all about.
I received the invitation last July. Females only? That could mean only one thing: ORGY. Of course I was interested. I put on my best orgy outfit, laced up my fanciest orgy shoes, and I put on my prettiest orgy smile. I was totally ready to put more than several penises inside me. Yup, it was just like any Saturday night.
So, I get there, and there’s more security than I’ve ever seen. I have to give them several DNA samples, some “stem cells,” and all of my Social Security and banking information. This was a small price to pay for what was to be the wildest night of my life.
I can remember walking into the club; you could only imagine what I saw. Women as far as the eye can see, doing things that I didn’t even know existed…Spa treatments, facials, homeopathic massage. There was an omelette station that featured fresh organic kale. A Pilates class was in full swing. Sara Bareilles played piano. And in the center of it all, LeSean McCoy released a flock of doves flying in a formation that spelled out the word “FEMALE.”
I soon found myself exchanging recipes with former U.S. Secretary of State Madeliene Albright and Barbara Walters. I enjoyed a soy latte with Angelina Jolie. I was transfixed when Hillary Clinton took the stage and spoke about female empowerment. I laughed uncontrollably at the comedic stylings of Ellen DeGeneres. Then I finally I got what I came for: a little one-on-one time with LeSean McCoy.
He told me his heroes were Susan B. Anthony, Gloria Steinem, and his mother. He said that his nickname “Shady” came from how he loved to pick flowers on a shady autumn day. He said that he wished men could become pregnant; he yearned to have a life grow inside him. He read from his favorite Maya Angelou poem, and I held him as he wept.
I can only hope the young women who attend this year’s party have the same transcendent experience I was lucky enough to have. There is no more important feminist icon today than LeSean “Shady” McCoy.
Diane Sevenay, a friend to The Scoop, is a writer and comedian who claims that she “invented the Internet.” Follow her immediately on Twitter at @diane_7a or face dire consequences.
Mayweather–Pacquiao proves boxing needs a fight and a fighter to get it off the ropes
I was positively giddy the week before the bell was set to ring; I plunked down $94 with the push of a button on my television remote for the fight that would launch boxing’s greatest comeback.
I mean, what could be better? Mayweather versus Pacquiao. The most anticipated fight in at least a generation, and the 12 rounds that would bring boxing up off its near 20-year canvas. Boxing has suffered from a lack of superstars, and UFC/MMA has surpassed the sweet science in the sports pecking order.
Twelve rounds and a plate of nachos later and I was clicking. Too bad it was a URL on YouTube that took me back to why I fell in love with the sport in the first place.
“The Force” and Sports
Like a lot of other seven-year-olds in 1977, I had two primary obsessions: sports and Star Wars.
While my sports knowledge was restricted to the daily newspaper, the school library and highlights on the nightly news, I ate, slept and thought about nothing beyond sports.
From the NHL to the NFL and CFL, to the NBA and Major League Baseball, I was a confirmed sports junkie at this precious age. And in my advancing age, I was all too willing to expand my reach beyond the ‘big four’ sports.
The only challenge to this obsession was, of course, Star Wars. Action figures, posters on my wall, clothing – if it was Star Wars, I wanted or obsessed about it, and I know I’m not alone.
Whether you were a kid curled up on the edge of your seat in a theatre in 1977, or watched it first on videotape, DVD or via download, I believe that there aren’t too many boys who when they see Star Wars for the first time, their life doesn’t change.
Thankfully on one chilly night in late September, I put down the X-Wing fighter long enough to take on another sport and another somewhat healthy obsession, and in essence, Star Wars helped open that, well, ‘universe.’
Laser Sound Effects, and Darth Vader meets “The Greatest”
It began with a short briefing from my brother the night of September 29. He was seven years older, and as babysitter he was my ‘defacto Darth Vader,’ which meant no amount of rebellion would recapture my entire 11-channel universe.
But somehow my brother had a different air about him. He’d always enjoyed being the ruler of my galaxy when Mom and Dad went out, but this was a night he was looking forward to.
Muhammad Ali versus Earnie Shavers. ‘The Greatest’ against ‘The Black Destroyer.’ Fifteen rounds for Ali’s heavyweight title from Madison Square Garden in New York City. Right there on that grainy, 24-inch screen in the corner of the living room, and on national television no less.
I know that by then I had a working knowledge of Ali in addition to my older brother’s spotty and altogether hyperbolic overview of his boxing career. The primary reason I knew him was simply because he was as much, if not more, mainstream than Lebron James or Tom Brady in 2015. Whether it was a highlight on the nightly news, a variety show or even ABC’s “Wide World of Sports,” Muhammad Ali continued as one of the most polarizing and engaging figures in sports during at that period.
I’m also sure I had options that night. It wasn’t like I was being forced to watch, rather, I was simply being brought up to speed on what would be on the television that evening. Minus the chokehold from The Dark Lord, who rather than wearing a cape, sported a Keep on Truckin’ t-shirt and bell-bottoms.
While somewhat dismissive and bored, I was ready to pass on this opportunity and return to the Millennium Falcon, and then, I heard it.
The opening trumpet blast of the music that was currently the soundtrack to my life. And there HE was. Fired up, talking, cocky, and led to the ring by the music and laser sound effects. Even though it was the stylized ‘disco’ version, I could handle it. I didn’t know much at seven, but I knew that disco sucked.
No ridiculous entrances with Justin Bieber, Jimmy Kimmel, or the Burger King, just a bunch of guys surrounding Ali who looked even more determined than the man himself.
While the theme from the movie was my personal “boxing tractor beam,” one epic round of trash-talk and a derisive rub of Shavers’ bald head by “The Champ” had me hooked, and 15 rounds later I found something else to obsess about.
I took in a full 45 minutes of ferocity and technical skill, where Ali scored enough to win, but was wobbled more than a few times. Shavers had a lethal right hand that had him considered as the hardest puncher in the 1970s, and in spite of that big right hand, he still couldn’t match Ali’s best weapon in the latter stage of his career: his chin. And like me, in revisiting this fight, Muhammad Ali‘s ability to withstand punishment is second to none.
After Shavers, Ali would only fight four more times; three of which were brutal losses, one worse than the next. But most experts will say, including Ali‘s doctor Ferdie Pacheco, who quit Ali‘s camp after this fight, that it was Shavers who truly accelerated one of the saddest declines in sports. That fact would be quickly realized in due time and punishing detail for me, but from that moment, I’ve traveled with boxing through its ups and downs.
Through Ali‘s decline, the astounding heights of the welterweight/middleweight divisions in the 80s and Tyson (of course), I maintained that passion. But without a polarizing, magnetic superstar, boxing and I, too, have been stuck for the past 20 years in a ‘black hole’ of non-appealing fights, and barely the occasional flash of hype from the likes of Mayweather, Pacquiao, De La Hoya, Hopkins, or Jones Jr.,and plenty of embarrassment: ear-biting, fan-man, etc.
In the past year or so, boxing has suddenly re-emerged. Interest has been heightened in cable fights on HBO and Showtime. The hype for Pacquiao-Mayweather started in 2014, and the new primetime package on NBC has been stellar, with the network signing a multi-year, multi-million dollar package that even has the network bringing out heavy hitters like Bob Costas, Al Michaels, Marv Albert and Laila Ali to host and broadcast.
For me, and for Madison Avenue, network and pay-per-view television, boxing was on an incredible upswing entering this fight. Pacquiao-Mayweather was going to strengthen the sport and pave the way for a new superstar (Canelo Alvarez? Deontay Wilder?), and maintain the positive momentum that would come from this match of the century.
And then the bell rang.
Boxing is still on the ropes. And for a fan who was hoping this fight could re-launch his passion for the sport, you can’t imagine the disappointment. In a sport that you wouldn’t think could embarrass itself any further, boxing flopped that night with a 36-minute display of hide and seek. Brilliant defense? Perhaps.
The last I checked, this was supposed to be a fight, and this was supposed to be the fight that brought everyone back to see what fans like me always believed that the sport could be if done properly, and maybe bring a new generation into what that seven-year-old kid saw with the Star Wars theme in his head.
Two men, staring each other down, throwing and taking punches to see who scores or who puts his opponent on the canvas. Simple as that. It’s competition in most raw and beautiful form, not the track-meet and dance contest we saw at the MGM.
May the Force Be With You(Tube)?
There is plenty of talk now about injuries, penalties for non-disclosure, lawsuits and rematches. But I’m going to pass on another Mayweather bout. If he truly is going to retire and tie Rocky Marciano, my remote will suddenly be lost in the cushions someplace.
For now, I’ll go back to my casual interest in the hope for a savior who isn’t on a movie screen, but is willing to stand in and fight. And every now and then I’ll find the mouse and take a look at a classic fight on YouTube.
No matter what else might be playing, that old familiar theme will be in my head, along with the incomprehensible irony that in the same year a fight was supposed to bring me right back into boxing, a new Star Wars movie is coming out later this year.
And if George Lucas doesn’t deliver? I’m calling Earnie Shavers.
I have been going to baseball games since 1985. As a fan, I have noticed over the years that there are many unwritten rules that are not being followed by spectators.
As of today, they are unwritten no longer! I am going to lay down the law.
1. You cannot wear a jersey for a player that is no longer on your team unless said player is retired. Example: Texas Rangers fans still showing up at games wearing Josh Hamilton jerseys. I don’t care if you still like the guy, but he’s on another team and thus the enemy.
2. If you are a grown man, don’t bring a glove to the game. You have hands. Use them. Plus, it impresses the ladies more when you barehand catch a ball.
3. Attention all grown-ups: If you catch a foul ball give it to the nearest kid. Trust me, they will value it way more than you ever will.
4. Unless you are at Wrigley Field, stop throwing visiting home run balls back. That’s a Cubs tradition. Plus, it’s just plain stupid.
5. Do I really have to tell you not to do the wave?
6. This is actually a written rule: You don’t have to remove your cap during God Bless America. That’s only done during our National Anthem and the playing of Taps. I only say this because I have had fans get mad at me for not doing so.
7. If you have to go to the bathroom, let a friend hold on to your drink. With all the nastiness that floats in the air, do you really want to bring your beer into the restroom?
8. Ladies, we are there to watch the game. Please stop telling stories about what happened at work yesterday. Guys, if your woman wants to tell stories that don’t pertain to the game all game long, then you need a new woman.
9. Unless you’re a writer covering the game or live-tweeting it, stay off your phone. Do you love the thrill of possibly being hit by a foul ball? Plus, do you really need to take 20 photos of the field every time you go to a game? I usually take 1 or 2 just to make my friends jealous.
10. I don’t know why I have to tell you this, but sit in the seat that is on your ticket. I hate showing up (even before the game starts) and someone is in my seat. It’s just rude.
If you have any more to add, or just want to complain, shoot me a message on Twitter @JamesHollandTX.
Until next time, I’ll see you in the cheap seats!
James Holland is a Sports Contributor at The Scoop. Follow him on Twitter at @JamesHollandTX.
I am going to propose a four-team trade in the NBA. This is not a swap of players, coaches or picks. This is a trade of franchise names. The first move has already taken place, between New Orleans and Charlotte. The next three should happen by the beginning of the next season.
Of the many welcomed changes in the NBA for the 2014-2015 campaign, few are as pleasing as the return of the Charlotte Hornets. The original Hornets franchise still resides in New Orleans since moving from Charlotte before the 2002 season.
But the name was returned to North Carolina, along with the Charlotte era history and stats, and given to the team that had been playing since 2004 as the Bobcats.
Nobody seemed to like the name Bobcats. In fact, the fans of Charlotte voted to name the team the Flight after the Wright Brothers. Granted, that is also an absolutely terrible name. But Bobcats had the stigma of egotism. The new owner Robert L. Johnson was known as “Bob.” Essentially he named the team after himself.
And the Bobcats did not leave much of an impact on the NBA. Despite having Larry Brown as a coach and Michael Jordan as an owner (or maybe BECAUSE of his ownership) the team did not win a single post season game, let alone a series.
The Hornets have a more pleasant history, winning 4 different playoff series in Charlotte.
But with the Hornets name back where it belongs, let’s turn our focus to New Orleans. Their franchise is now called the Pelicans. No offense to those beautiful birds, but that is a dumb sounding name. That sounds like a CBA team from the 1980s. Or maybe a team in a movie about basketball where they couldn’t get the rights to actual NBA team logos.
As with Charlotte, New Orleans once had a great team name. They had the New Orleans Jazz. As “teams without an S in the name” go, New Orleans Jazz is about as good as it gets. (Much better than the Heat or Magic for my money.) It perfectly describes the feel of the city and what it is known for. Seriously, how far down the list would Pelicans be for Nawlins’ iconography?
Of course the Jazz still exist. They are in Utah. Truth be told, Pelicans could probably be found more frequently in Utah than any jazz musicians. The name Utah Jazz is so bizarre and contradictory that it is almost beautiful. I could try and think of a more absurd combination of team and city/state name, but I am at a loss. Even the Denver Mariners or Kansas City Dolphins would make more sense.
The Jazz have their great Stockton and Malone history along with a pair of trips to the finals. But that name belongs in New Orleans. It will bring back memories of Pistol Pete Maravich who brought his sweet moves across the state from LSU to the Jazz. Sure it would mean the New Orleans team would have three different names in four seasons. But think of how valuable the Pelicans jerseys would be for collectors.
With Charlotte and New Orleans taken care of, what should happen in Utah? Is there an NBA team name that could be a perfect fit for the Beehive State?
It is just sitting there and is North of the Border.
Take a look at this dinosaur. It is pretty ferocious and scary looking, isn’t it? Do you know what its official name is for paleontologists? It is the Utahraptor ostrommaysorum. Commonly, it is called the Utah Raptor.
They were fast, violent killing machines with giant claws that could grow to the size of a polar bear.
The Raptor name exists in Toronto basically because they were founded around the same time that Jurassic Park was super popular and everything Isaiah Thomas, the team’s original president, did was bonkers.
If he was putting together a team last winter with Frozencleaning up at the box office, he would named the team the Snowmen.
But the name makes scientific sense in Utah. It would be a scary mascot with links to the region instead of a reflection of what film was popular at the moment the team was made.
Where does that leave the Toronto team?
When Isaiah Thomas was reading the weekly movie box office grosses coming up with a team name, Toronto fans suggested several other names. The Grizzlies were one, but that is now taken. The Beavers were another one, but that would yield too many obscene jokes.
Guess what was another popular suggestion? The Bobcats. And if I am not mistaken, that name is now available.
So with this proposal, the 2015-2016 season would feature the Charlotte Hornets, the New Orleans Jazz, the Utah Raptors and the Toronto Bobcats.
What happens to the Pelicans? No doubt a D-League franchise could use a new name.
Paul “Sully” Sullivan is a Sports Contributor at The Scoop, and is also a successful baseball podcaster and stand-up comedian. Follow him on Twitter at @SullyBaseball.
When Joe Maddon opted out of his contract as manager of the Tampa Bay Rays on October 24, 2014 (as reported by CBS Sports), I thought there was only one destination for his next job. It was as clear to me as a Santa Monica day.
Inevitably, the Los Angeles Dodgers were going to announce they were going to let go of Don Mattingly as manager after 4 seasons, and reunite Maddon with his former Tampa Bay GM Andrew Friedman. Everything lined up perfectly and it would be a match made in baseball heaven.
I even began writing a somewhat snarky column for this website about the Dodgers being coy with their intentions while clearly pushing Mattingly out the door.
Oh, publicly, the Dodgers backed Mattingly, as they did here in the LA Times, but who were they kidding? Arguably the best manager in baseball was there for the taking.
Remember when Joe Torre suddenly became available after the 2007 postseason and Dodger manager Grady Little just HAPPENED to resign? What a coincidence that Torre was hired before poor Grady was done packing the office.
The Dodgers were poised to take on the champion Giants next year, and baseball would see a Maddon-led team take on Bruce Bochy’s boys with two of the best skippers in the business in the same division.
Then a funny thing happened to Joe Maddon, and also to this smart aleck know-it-all writer. The inevitable signing with the Dodgers turned into a Chicago Cubs love fest.
Maddon headed to Wrigley, bought everyone drinks (always a fool-proof way to win over Cubs fans) and seemed poised to take credit for the emergence of Anthony Rizzo, Javier Baez and Jorge Soler.
Poor Rick Renteria was kicked to the curb. While the stench of tampering hangs over the move, nobody could blame the Cubs for wanting to bring in Maddon (no offense to Renteria, who will no doubt find another job.)
Maddon is going to join the likes of Leo Durocher, Dusty Baker and Lou Piniella as high profile managers hoping to complete the Don Quixote-like quest of winning a title for the Cubs.
Meanwhile, the Dodgers go into 2015 with Don Mattingly still at the helm.
Can someone please explain to me how this happened? Why didn’t the Dodgers at least put on the full court press and wine and dine Maddon? They offer one of the sweetest managerial jobs baseball and could be the fast track for Maddon’s elusive title.
The appeal of “Dodger manager Joe Maddon” was staggering. From the 2008 World Series to the 2013 Division Series, the Rays reached the playoffs in four different seasons, with a payroll slightly larger than the average In-and-Out Burger location. Friedman made all the right moves, and Maddon handled the continually changing roster perfectly, winning Manager of the Year in 2008 and 2011.
One could only wonder what kind of success that tandem could have had with a solid payroll and fan support.
Oh, wait! There wasn’t a need to just wonder. The Dodgers could have brought Friedman and Maddon together with a $200 million payroll, the best attendance in the National League and an ability to keep stars instead of shopping them.
Forget trying to juggle a rotation without David Price, James Shields or an injured Matt Moore; Maddon could call on Clayton Kershaw and Zack Greinke in LA!
He would inherit a team that has won back-to-back Division titles and posted 94 victories last season. But they also have seen their division rival Giants win 3 World Series this decade, two since the new ownership took over.
As a sports city, Los Angeles is first and foremost a Lakers town. But with the Lakers on a downward spiral, the Dodgers have a chance to take over Southern California for the cool sports dollar.
But with a huge payroll and an easily distracted fanbase, losing in the playoffs to the Cardinals in back-to-back seasons is not going to cut it.
The Dodgers are going into 2015 with a sense of urgency. Kershaw is going to be 27 and Greinke 31, probably the peak year of this tandem. Yasiel Puig is a budding star, but difficult to predict. The left side of the infield is in disarray and the bullpen was, to be kind, unreliable.
Changes were made. Friedman pushed GM Ned Colletti to a vague new role. Farm director DeJon Watson and scouting director Logan White have moved on. Oakland’s former Director of Baseball Operations, Farhan Zaidi, is making to move to LA.
And yet with all these behind the scenes moves, Mattingly remains.
Mattingly has been the Dodgers manager for four seasons. That is a Presidential term. Plus, he was a hold-over from the Frank McCourt ownership. When Mark Walter, Stan Kasten, Magic Johnson et al took over the team in 2012, they inherited Mattingly and Colletti.
Colletti’s inability to have any depth on the team for $200 million pushed him out. But what about “Donnie Baseball?”
For two straight years, he has made questionable decisions in the postseason. Whether it was pulling Adrian Gonzalez in a one run playoff game in 2013, or turning to Scott Elbert in a critical Division Series moment this year, there is no shortage of head-scratchers for Mattingly.
And of course Mattingly benched Yasiel Puig in an elimination game. Yes, Puig was not hitting well (except for an extra base hit the previous game.) Is it wise to remove one of the best bats the team has in a winner-take-all game? It didn’t work.
Is Mattingly a difference-making manager? Probably not, for good or for ill. But Maddon IS one of the few managers who at least seems to make a difference. And perhaps the arrival of Maddon to Los Angeles could have given the team a spark that is lacking with Mattingly.
Maybe Maddon would have figured out how to run the bullpen. Perhaps Maddon could get the best out of Puig and his former left fielder, Carl Crawford.
And what would firing Mattingly cost the Dodgers? He is signed for two more years, and eating that contract would mean swallowing roughly $9 million total, according to ESPN.com.
Look, I know it is not my money. But that is less than what LA is going to pay Brian Wilson, and there is not even a guarantee he will be able to pitch next year.
Carl Crawford is going to cash checks for $60 million more dollars! But they are too cheap to bring in Maddon?
The Dodgers run with Don Mattingly as manager is like a stale relationship. They are together because of circumstances that are no longer relevant and they are staying together because it beats being single.
Now imagine someone in a stagnant relationship has a chance to date Charlize Theron. In that situation, you at least have to ask her out!
All the Dodgers had to offer was a huge budget, a gigantic media market, a contending team, the best pitcher on the planet and a chance to reunite with the GM who turned the laughing stock of baseball into a pennant contender.
The Dodgers have not seen a World Series since Kirk Gibson limped around the basepaths in 1988. Clayton Kershaw was a 7-month-old baby during that Series.
That same year, Mattingly was a star with the Yankees, who missed the World Series every year he was in uniform. He made his debut in 1982, just after New York’s 1981 World Series loss. He stayed until 1995, never winning a pennant, and retired. The Yankees went on to win 6 pennants in the next 8 years, winning 4 championships. He returned as a coach in 2004, and the team couldn’t win the pennant. He left in 2007 for LA, and the team won in 2009.
The 2014 fantasy football season already feels like Halloween with its share of superheroes (Andrew Luck), ghosts (Calvin Johnson), Cowboys (DeMarco Murray), and criminals (Ray Rice and Adrian Peterson). So what better way to spend this diabetes-inducing holiday than by dressing as your favorite fantasy football hero?
Without further ado, I’d like to present…
#FantasyFootballCostumes *Feel free to play along on Twitter.*
Super Creepy Ben Roethlisberger
-A redundant costume, because Big Ben is already SUPER CREEPY.
Peyton Manning’s Forehead
-Huge costume. Literally.
Slutty Antonio Cromartie
-Cromartie has 74 children with 81 different mothers. Feel free to show cleavage.
Ray Rice, America’s Sweetheart
-A horrible costume based on a horrible human being.
Amish Andrew Luck
-Andrew Luck’s beard is not allowed to use electricity.
Eli Manning Face
-Are you crying? Sleeping? Having a seizure? If it looks like a combination of all three, that’s the costume.
Tom Brady, with Uggs
-Because shoes make the quarterback. Or in this case, women’s shoes make the quarterback.
Brett Favre’s Penis
-There are at least five Twitter accounts named after this tiny costume.
[NOTE: Picture intentionally left blank. Um, no one wants to see pictures of that. You hear that, Mr. Favre? No one.]
Baby Andy Reid
-Because regular Andy Reid is nowhere near this cute.
-Marijuana is sold separately.
-Enjoy Halloween with your “girlfriend” right by your side.
Tony Romo’s Surgically Repaired Back
-Sometimes a great costume hurts.
Wes Welker, Extremely High Munchkin
-A tiny wide receiver all messed up on “Molly” is the PERFECT costume for your child.
Hans and Franz and Aaron Rodgers
-This three-person costume will PUMP YOU UP.
Diane Sevenay, a friend to The Scoop, is a writer and comedian who claims that she “invented the Internet.” Follow her immediately on Twitter at @diane_7a or face dire consequences. Check out all of The Scoop’s great content, including more Fantasy Football snark, atTheScoopZone.com!
A note from Fantasy Football Lead, Jay Marks: Diane and I connected due to our shared love of comedy and fantasy football. She attributes her unique and off-kilter take on fantasy football to her being “off her meds.” If there is a funnier, more irreverent fantasy sports writer than Diane, it’s news to her.
I was tired, packed around a bunch of college students, and worst of all, I needed another beer. The neighborhood I resided in was throwing a pool party just a few days before school started to celebrate another completed summer, even though most of the people there were at the pool every day.
I preferred to think of it as a celebration after my local fantasy draft.
My league is a tight knit group, so it wasn’t shocking that two of my friends were in the corner of the pool shouting at each other. Was it over a girl? Was it over a spilled drink? No, it was about Arian Foster. My friends were living the college version of The League, the show that used to be funny but now serves up only a few cheap laughs. What started as a conversation between a couple of friends quickly sucked in half of our league.
The debate raged on, including topics such as Julio Jones’ ability to bounce back, and how Cam Newton would produce with hardly any weapons. Insults were dropped, glares were given, and plenty of girls “couldn’t even.” What was fun at the time became totally irrelevant once opening night was upon us.
See, no matter how you feel about your team, the countless mock drafts, endless research, bookstore trips to check out every fantasy football magazine you can find, fan forums, and everything in-between are enough to make any normal person feel crazy. Because you just can’t predict fantasy football. Your sleepers will hit the snooze button and your busts will bust out to personal highs.
In honor of that craziness, I present my mid-season awards. We’re going to laugh at our pain, crown our achievements, and maybe we’ll even escape our regrets.
Every year, some no-name players bust out for a couple scores one week,and everyone flocks to the waiver wire, fully knowing there’s a pretty good chance that will be their best performance all season.
This year, that honor goes to Allen Hurns. His 100-yard game and two scores left owners swooning over a potential breakout player in Jacksonville, a place where it just doesn’t happen very often. How quickly Hurns fell into disappointment, not even coming close to his opening weekend numbers for the next seven weeks.
The next player I would like to mention is sort of like a newer Adam Sandler movie; you have no idea why you’re there, you probably panicked, and now you’ll have to live with the regret, probably forever.
Say hello to Doug Martin. Despite his drawbacks, he was still picked high in the 2nd round, at least according to his average draft position. With quite an established medical report, and the mess that was going on in Tampa Bay, I wanted no part of him. Unfortunately, some people had to fall into that trap. Hopefully you owners dug yourselves out in time. Hopefully. “Why do we fall down? To get back up.” I’m pretty sure that was in a Batman movie and also probably some other places, point being … just be Batman.
How about a positive award? How about a mid-to-late round guy who is bringing you a lot of fantasy success?
You can go many ways here, but how about we highlight Greg Olsen. The former Miami product never seems to get enough love. Which is weird because Cam Newton can’t throw the ball to invisible bodies, and Olsen is actually a pretty talented player. He’s on pace for a career year in every category, and has developed quite the buddy-cop chemistry with Cam. Pretty excited about this duo in Lethal Weapon 5.
I can’t think of a better player for my next award than Tom Brady. I’ll give you a little while to guess what it is. By the way, after seeing Gone Girl and Fury, I have to tell you that I have pretty high expectations for films for the rest of the year. I also like to sneak in Hawaiian rolls with some slices of ham to the movies.
Okay, anyway, the award that I’m giving to Brady is for being that guy who you don’t give up on; you stick it out. Or, the guy you traded for because some other owner gave up on him. Either would suffice here. Now, as far as my knowledge of the American Revolution, it really only comes from my middle school textbook. Along with that Mel Gibson movie and one of those Assassin’s Creed games. Brady’s season went from the Battles of Lexington and Concord to straight stabbing Red Coats with the American flag. He’s dropping bombs like on Bunker Hill. Anyway, if you’re still reading, Brady is on fire now. Every Sunday in Foxboro is like the 4th of July.
My last award goes to the flash-in-the-pan guys. The “I need to score a touchdown” or “I was worthless this week” guys.
Larry Donnell, Terrance Williams, Kendall Wright, Stepfan Taylor, Eddie Lacy, and well, pretty much whomever is on your team that frustrates you every week. This award is for the people. The people who maybe almost did major damage to a pool table after a bad shot because they saw Donnell goose-egg after his outrageous game the week before. This also goes out to the guy, who is my neighbor, who was drunk one night and said his only problem was drafting LeSean McCoy first overall. Just let it out guys.
Tyler Dalton is a guest contributor at The Scoop. He spends his nights in Tuscaloosa, either writing, or in a bar quoting Arrow. Obviously, he’s living the life. Outside of Alabama losing, his usual stress comes from setting his lineup in a million different fantasy leagues and a fridge with no beer. By the time you’ve read this he’s probably tweeted. You can follow him on Twitter @tylerd91.
A note from Fantasy Football Lead, Jay Marks (@FFHottieAsst): I became aware of Tyler from his days of stellar writing for TopTeamFantasy. Since then, I’ve chosen to remain friends from a distance, due to his blatant Crimson Tide devotion. And the fact that I don’t live in Alabama.
It comes as no surprise that Marshawn Lynch decided to hold out at the beginning of training camp this year. When you are the spokesperson for a company like Skittles, you not only “taste the rainbow,” but you also see the gold at the other end.
Ok, so that’s not entirely true, as Lynch is the first person Skittles has ever signed to an endorsement deal. Although the numbers have yet to be released, it would not appear that there was a significant allotment of cash exchanged.
So why then would Lynch agree to said endorsement deal with Skittles?
It all started back in high school, when Lynch would eat Skittles—or “power pellets” as his mom would call them—during football games, to give him that extra edge. I’m no medical professional, but to think that Skittles could help a player on the field is almost ludicrous. Yet, before you fall out of your chair laughing, dietitians have actually researched and found that Skittles could help a player during a game. This is due to the fact that the tasty little candies have glucose and a little fructose, which together will give someone a little extra energy.
So there’s that.
Last season in Seattle, multiple supermarkets reported running out of Skittles during home games. Devoted Seahawks fans imitated Russell Wilson, throwing “rainbow showers” every time Lynch scored a touchdown. In Seattle’s 10 home games, Lynch scored 12 touchdowns. It would take far too much effort on my part to mathematically calculate exactly how many Skittles went flying during those 10 weeks. Perhaps someone should call on ESPN Sport Science to push its research team for resolve on this important issue. Let’s just say the end zone turf at CenturyLink Field at times resembled rainbow-hued sod.
Now, you may wonder why Lynch chose Skittles over so many other candy options. Come in off the ledge; the answers lie here:
Let’s start with Zero; yes, the candy bar. We’re obviously not setting the “bar” very high here (no pun intended, at least not initially). Let’s try another.
The 100 Grand bar sounds good. Lynch thought so too, until his agent advised that it was limiting his financial future.
And then there’s Snickers. Anyone who watches television is familiar with the ad campaign, “You’re not you when you’re hungry.” Who truly is Marshawn Lynch? Do we really want to find out? With his track record of on-field transformation into Beast Mode, let’s stick with the Skittles. Who needs those stinking Snickers, anyhow? We all know how Lynch reacts to Skittles, and if he’s on your fantasy team, you want it to stay that way.
For Mars, striking a deal with Lynch could bring in a big profit for the company. Kantar Media, a media monitoring company, estimates that Lynch’s presence in the Super Bowl was worth as much as $5 million to Skittles.
Who knows if the country’s 14th-best-selling candy provides Lynch with that extra boost necessary to score touchdowns? The one thing we know is as long as Lynch keeps operating in his trademark Beast Mode, there will scarcely be Skittles available within a 100-mile radius of Seattle. It will continue raining Skittles. Literally.
Jeff Malco is just a small town girl, living in a lonely world and friend of The Scoop. Follow him on Twitter at @sportsgurujeff.
A note from Fantasy Lead, Jay Marks: The Real Jeff Malco is not to be confused with the Fake Jeff Malco. I’ll admit that when I first met him, I wasn’t completely sure I liked the real one. But … then he grew on me. Like a wart.