Archive for Catch-All Category
Not only were the San Antonio Spurs eliminated from the NBA playoffs Wednesday night after losing Game 6 of the Western Conference Finals to the Oklahoma City Thunder, the team also had to suffer the indignity of standing there and watching one of their own being shown up by a ref during an overly demonstrative, highly expressive foul call.
About midway through the 4th quarter, veteran NBA referee Bill Kennedy called a foul on Spurs player Stephen Jackson. And do you know how the phrase “selling the foul” is sometimes thrown around explaining how a basketball player can help convince a referee to blow his whistle on an opponent? Well, whatever Bill Kennedy is doing in this video is the referee version of it.
I don’t know exactly what Kennedy is trying to articulate with his shimmy-shake, pseudo-double-golf-swing histrionics here, but I must admit I appreciate his style and marveled at his moves.
As stated above, that, my friends, is how you sell a foul…call.
Happy Friday, friends. Another week has come and gone, so you know what that means: more Arianny Celeste photos. Sure, some of you regular readers might be tiring of this bit, but most of you are not. I know these things.
Since I was off last Friday, there was no weekly rundown, so this week, we have bonus pics. Happy happy joy joy.
So, without further ado, enjoy the photos Miss Arianny uploaded to her Twitter account for our viewing enjoyment.
Most people’s sense of humor probably has evolved since the 6th grade, but many still have managed to remember the basic concepts related to what the average precocious preteen boy find amusing. With that in mind, I would be hard-pressed to argue that most folks have or would let out a chuckle or two upon hearing or seeing Seattle Mariners pitcher Charlie Furbush’s last name. It’s Furbush, for crying out loud. The jokes write themselves.
This is what makes the letter spacing on Furbush’s jersey so hilariously unfortunate. The wider distance between the “R” and the “B” in Furbush really accentuates the enormous amount of implied humor of this poor guy’s name. Might I suggest to the individual on the Seattle Mariners staff that sews on the letters to the players’ jerseys this: tighten up the spacing in the letters so they are more evenly distributed, at least on Furbush’s jersey. Because I don’t have to tell any of you out there that when there’s too much space between the fur and the bush the results can be quite off-putting. Just saying.
[image via SportsGrid]
As far as vanity plates go, I guess this is pretty clever and should attract some attention for fellow motorists who are also cuckoo for the quarterback who should end up with Washington Redskins. But just for the sake of argument, is it a remote possibility that the Colts would take Robert Griffin III over Andrew Luck? (cue Twilight Zone theme)
But overall, my personal opinion? Given that I live in Minnesota, I’d have to give this vanity plate commemorating the likely impending arrival of RG3 in D.C. a “Meh.” As a Vikings fan, If I were ever to get vanity plates, you know I’m going with…um…
Forget it. Put me down for some “ASSMAN” vanity plates. Now, that’s how you attract the right kind of attention.
[H/T Mr. Irrelevant]
Working under the assumption that this is real, legitimate tweet from the New England Patriots wide receiver and not the outcome of some wisenheimer hacking Wes Welker’s Twitter account, or, even worse, an inappropriate joke offered up by Welker, that has to be one of the oddest tweets I have ever read. But hey, it’s still better than shilling for Uggs, am I right?
But let’s be honest here: no matter how this entire thing came about, I can’t wait to see how they tiptoe around this sensitive topic and still make the commercial entertaining yet tasteful. And hey, it’s all for charity, so they deserve credit for that part of it.
Here’s a thought on how Welker’s role might go in the commercial:
(Welker enters into frame)
“Hi, I’m New England Patriots wide receiver Wes Welker. While I might crap the bed during the Super Bowl I won’t be crapping my pants anymore. Thanks to these Depend undergarments!”
What do DeMarcus Ware and Clay Matthews do in the commercial, you ask? Simple. They get all serious because it is a serious topic after all and give the entire spiel about raising money and increasing awareness about prostate cancer. End scene.
Also: far be it from me given the nature of this post not to embed the following video:
News that will shock you: Solomon Jones is from Florida. Imagine how weird that tattoo would be if he were from Connecticut.
Featuring a map of Florida, including an image of the road sign for Highway 441, which essentially dissects the Sunshine State from north to south, as well as a reference to the area code 352, which happens to be the area code for Gainesville, Fla., but also the numbers on a telephone that spell out “F-L-A,” Jones’ back is an epic homage to his home state, all the way down to the presence of an alligator and a palm tree. An orange would have really tied the whole thing together.
Jones, who was recently released by the Los Angeles Clippers and picked up by the New Orleans Hornets, appears to be continuing east, closer and closer to his home state (he was born in Eustis, Fla.), where he grew up and attended college at the University of South Florida in Tampa. Who knows? Maybe he’ll get dropped by the Hornets and sign on with the Heat or Magic. That way he could add some more ink to that back of his to properly document the locale of the NBA team in Florida he will play for…if there’s space left.
[image via NBA247365.com]
You go, Dr. Ruth, you dirty old broad. Double double? In sexual lingo, what might that mean? Hmm…
Seriously, if she keeps up this routine and maintains this high profile, before you know it, people will be referring to Dr. Ruth as the next Betty White. A randy, hyper-sexualized Betty White, but the newest senior citizen starlet enjoying a late career resurgence. Which is fine by me.
(for a discussion of Dr. Ruth’s earlier tweets related to Jeremy Lin-related SexuaLINity”, see here)
And here I thought Los Angeles Clippers dunkadelic slammer-jammer Blake Griffin picked up this slam dunking skill while tinkering around with his game during college or something. But no. The kid could ball way back when during his days attending Edmond (Okla.) Oklahoma Christian School.
The video above is from a recent episode of Oklahoma High School Sports Express which centered on Griffin as he talked about the good old days in high school, before he went on to dominate in college at Oklahoma.
(cue up “Glory Days” by Springsteen, promptly reconsider, punch self in the gut for thinking of it)
And if the above displays of Griffin’s dunking prowess in high school are insufficient and leave you wanting further documentation, check out the unbelievable alley-oop that follows:
A trio of UFC Octagon Girls recently stopped by the offices of theChive (lucky) to promote UFC 143: Diaz vs. Condit. While there, Brittney, Chandella, and most importantly (as far as I’m concerned), Arianny pitched in to help the gang put a new twist on NFL penalties. Fun! Super Bowl-related! Additional exclamation!
For many, many more high-res photos, visit theChive.
The plan on Wednesday was for the ESPN anchor/reporter team of Trey Wingo and Rachel Nichols to take on NFL analysts Merril Hoge and Chris Carter in a race on the zip line which is a feature of the many Super Bowl-related festivities presently taking place in Indianapolis. Sadly, one of the above four opted out after being fitted with the gear and everything. Take a guess who chickened out? Had to be Miss Nichols, right? No rough and tumble guy would ever wuss out on something like this, especially if a member of the fairer sex was all Gung Ho about doing it.
Chris Carter. Wow. So, Rachel Nichols did it but Chris Carter flat-out refused? Ouch. How emasculating that must have been for Carter. And how about Merril Hoge cheating? Actually, that doesn’t surprise me one bit. Anything to win, right, Merril? And I must admit I am a bit disappointed that when Rachel Nichols was talking while still harnessed she didn’t sign off with her trademark way of saying, “ESPN.” That’s her bit.