(Satire) Last night Twitter, the world's pre-eminent micro-blogging social media site, presented its inaugural NFL Twit Head of the Year Award for reckless remarks to Minnesota Vikings' All Pro RB Adrian Peterson.
Twitter initially planned to award the gleaming NFL Crystal Ball Twit Head Trophy to a worthy NFL personality at the start of its next season. NFL Twit Head Award finalists included megolomaniac Cincinnati Bengal WR Chad Ochocinco, oft-retired sexting QB Brett Farve, and AFC Title Game Runner-up NY Jets coach, the bombastic Rex Ryan.
However, due to failed NFL labor negotiations, coupled with Adrian Peterson's recent comments likening his professional football employment to slavery, Twitter management considered the timing more than ripe to present this inaugural and inglorious distinction.
Peterson appeared nervous on television receiving his Twitter award as well as during his acceptance speech. Though admittedly earning a whopping $10.72 million this year, the Viking star RB stressed that his regrettable racially incendiary "slave wages" remarks were taken out of context, even though he expressed them twice.
Prone to putting the pigskin on the turf during big NFL games, Peterson proceeded to provide a near perfect repeat performance during this inaugural Twitter event. In a major ooops! move, Peterson inexplicably fumbled the gleaming glass trophy while being escorted off stage. The fall created a sea of glass shards sparkling across the floor.
When questioned about Peterson's unexpected coughing up of the now shattered NFL Twit Head of the Year Award, Twitter executives downplayed AP's mishandling of the ball. "Not a problem. Adrian's slavery remarks were so reckless, Twitter is willing to re-present him with replacement shatterproof trophies. We're designing twin Twit Heads, one for each time he uttered his careless comments."
Straight talk. No static.
MIKE - thee ultimate talking head on sports!
www.facebook.com/theemikefans
Showing posts with label MIKE - thee American made voice on sports. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MIKE - thee American made voice on sports. Show all posts
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Friday, October 1, 2010
Facebook's New Sports Feature (satire)
Coinciding perfectly with today's release of The Social Network movie, Facebook has introduced a new feature of its own - certain to become every sports fan's favorite.
Filling an urgent need on the web's most celebrated social site, Facebook's new Dis-Like button combats the shameless self-promotion of the sports world's biggest unbridled egos by affording frustrated fans the opportunity to stem the internet's newest STD (socially transmitted disease, that is) of tasteless sports celebrity hype.
Certain to become the web's latest viral sensation, Facebook's limited edition Dis-Like button is patterned after Homeland Security's color coded threat advisory system and reserved only for the most overblown egos in the sports world.
Facebook's new sports specific, multi-tiered feature allows users to display their personal distaste for self-absorbed jocks using this brilliantly simple annoyance alert system.
Wanna K.O. T.O.'s mindless chatter? Press the new yellow Dis-Like button for elevated annoyance and choose a complimentary Bag of Hot Air emoticon to appear next to the Bengal receiver's name and picture.
Wanna Deep 6 Ocho Cinco and drive Chad a little poco loco? Press the new orange Dis-Like button for high annoyance which will automatically attach a Thumbs Down icon next to Chad's photo, so your Facebook Friends can share their same Dis-Like with all of their Facebook Friends....up to 85 times apiece.
Wanna Short Circuit Shaq? Press the new red Dis-Like button for severe annoyance which automatically shuts down this shameless self-promoter on your Wall and instantly reports Big Diesel's boorish behavior to Facebook's on-line police.
Social network experts predict that Facebook's new sports feature will quickly emerge as the perfect antidote for overblown egos of overconfident athletes whose excessive self-promotion is crying out for curtailment.
Liking Facebook's new Dis-Like button - soon to be every sports fan's favorite.
This is MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
www.facebook.com/theemikefans
Filling an urgent need on the web's most celebrated social site, Facebook's new Dis-Like button combats the shameless self-promotion of the sports world's biggest unbridled egos by affording frustrated fans the opportunity to stem the internet's newest STD (socially transmitted disease, that is) of tasteless sports celebrity hype.
Certain to become the web's latest viral sensation, Facebook's limited edition Dis-Like button is patterned after Homeland Security's color coded threat advisory system and reserved only for the most overblown egos in the sports world.
Facebook's new sports specific, multi-tiered feature allows users to display their personal distaste for self-absorbed jocks using this brilliantly simple annoyance alert system.
Wanna K.O. T.O.'s mindless chatter? Press the new yellow Dis-Like button for elevated annoyance and choose a complimentary Bag of Hot Air emoticon to appear next to the Bengal receiver's name and picture.
Wanna Deep 6 Ocho Cinco and drive Chad a little poco loco? Press the new orange Dis-Like button for high annoyance which will automatically attach a Thumbs Down icon next to Chad's photo, so your Facebook Friends can share their same Dis-Like with all of their Facebook Friends....up to 85 times apiece.
Wanna Short Circuit Shaq? Press the new red Dis-Like button for severe annoyance which automatically shuts down this shameless self-promoter on your Wall and instantly reports Big Diesel's boorish behavior to Facebook's on-line police.
Social network experts predict that Facebook's new sports feature will quickly emerge as the perfect antidote for overblown egos of overconfident athletes whose excessive self-promotion is crying out for curtailment.
Liking Facebook's new Dis-Like button - soon to be every sports fan's favorite.
This is MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
www.facebook.com/theemikefans
Monday, September 13, 2010
Third Member of Notre Dame's Holy Trinity of Football Attacked
More shocking news reverberated around the Catholic football world this weekend, causing faithful Fighting Irish fans to fear for their eternal football salvation.
The third member of Notre Dame's venerated Holy Trinity of football, the Leprechaun, suffered an unexpected, unprecedented verbal attack during the school's nationally televised game versus the University of Michigan.
Unruly Wolverine fans unmercifully poked fun at the miniature bean pole clad in kelly green short shorts, knee high argyles and corny corn cob pipe. Fans from Ann Arbor taunted the Irish mascot to tears in his own stadium, suggesting that he couldn't intimidate a Teletubby and proffering that the pugnacious pixie shameless beat out a 90 year old nun for his mascot job. The unprovoked assault on Notre Dame's little greenie weenie comes at a precarious time in the history of the university's storied college football program.
Irish football fans were still reeling from two shocking incidences this year which nearly caused the gold dome on the South Bend campus to crumble and the Holy Trinity of Notre Dame football to unravel.
The first attack occurred last summer when a bolt of lightning struck Touch Down Jesus' iconic statue and sparked an ominous blow to Catholic football's Ground Zero. The second startling blow took place only last week as ND alumnus and Hall of Fame Super Bowl QB Joe Montana sacrilegiously questioned the authenticity of the athletic career of the school's beloved Rudy of major motion picture fame.
Finally, when this weekend's verbal effrontery by the Michigan fans forced the Notre Dame leprechaun to shake in his shamrock shorts, it appeared as if the bedrock under the Catholic football world would be irreparably shaken.
However, in true Catholic tradition, rosaries have been recited, candles have been lit and special masses have been said. To date, the plaster statue of Touch Down Jesus has been repaired. Rudy's reputation will be ultimately restored. And chances are good that Notre Dame's legendary Leprechaun will more than likely live on through this latest attack.
Straight Talk. No Static.
MIKE - Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
The third member of Notre Dame's venerated Holy Trinity of football, the Leprechaun, suffered an unexpected, unprecedented verbal attack during the school's nationally televised game versus the University of Michigan.
Unruly Wolverine fans unmercifully poked fun at the miniature bean pole clad in kelly green short shorts, knee high argyles and corny corn cob pipe. Fans from Ann Arbor taunted the Irish mascot to tears in his own stadium, suggesting that he couldn't intimidate a Teletubby and proffering that the pugnacious pixie shameless beat out a 90 year old nun for his mascot job. The unprovoked assault on Notre Dame's little greenie weenie comes at a precarious time in the history of the university's storied college football program.
Irish football fans were still reeling from two shocking incidences this year which nearly caused the gold dome on the South Bend campus to crumble and the Holy Trinity of Notre Dame football to unravel.
The first attack occurred last summer when a bolt of lightning struck Touch Down Jesus' iconic statue and sparked an ominous blow to Catholic football's Ground Zero. The second startling blow took place only last week as ND alumnus and Hall of Fame Super Bowl QB Joe Montana sacrilegiously questioned the authenticity of the athletic career of the school's beloved Rudy of major motion picture fame.
Finally, when this weekend's verbal effrontery by the Michigan fans forced the Notre Dame leprechaun to shake in his shamrock shorts, it appeared as if the bedrock under the Catholic football world would be irreparably shaken.
However, in true Catholic tradition, rosaries have been recited, candles have been lit and special masses have been said. To date, the plaster statue of Touch Down Jesus has been repaired. Rudy's reputation will be ultimately restored. And chances are good that Notre Dame's legendary Leprechaun will more than likely live on through this latest attack.
Straight Talk. No Static.
MIKE - Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Nike May Recall New Tim Tebow Shoes
Facing mounting pressure from special interest groups and the United States government, Nike may recall its new limited edition Tim Tebow Air Trainers.
The blue and orange Tebow endorsed shoes, which sold out on nikestore.com within 5 minutes last week, have sparked a firestorm of protests. Among the disgruntled groups are:
Southern Baptists, calling for a boycott of the sneaker giant, expressed outrage at Nike for naming the new Tebow shoe the Air Trainer 1.2 instead of the John 3:16.
Jesse Jackson, threatening to picket Denver Bronco home games this season, assailed Nike for failing to offer similar shoe deals to other NFL back-up quarterbacks of color.
Pro Choice groups, still steaming from the QB's Pro Life Super Bowl ad earlier this year, protested that the Tebow endorsed shoes infringe upon a woman's constitutional right to choose. Pro Choicers plan to boycott not only Nike, but also Jockey, Bible makers and all other products associated with the evangelical NFL rookie.
The ACLU, claiming the Promise decal on the the shoes' heel is another Tebow attempt to proselytize his faith, filed suit in Federal Court against the NFL to protect every American football fan's fundamental right to separation of church and state.
Finally, Homeland Security reporting that any purchaser wearing the new Tebow shoes demonstrated an ability to walk on water while leaving no discernable footprints in the sand, raised its Threat Level to Red. The Department feared that terrorists would go undetected if they wore the new Tebow shoes.
However, Cincinnati safety Kyries Hebert was quick to challenge Homeland Security's charge by offering, "The new Tebow shoes may not leave footprints in the sand, but when #15 runs over you on the goal line, they definitely engrave cleat marks on your forehead."
Straight talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports.
www.facebook.com/theemikefans
The blue and orange Tebow endorsed shoes, which sold out on nikestore.com within 5 minutes last week, have sparked a firestorm of protests. Among the disgruntled groups are:
Southern Baptists, calling for a boycott of the sneaker giant, expressed outrage at Nike for naming the new Tebow shoe the Air Trainer 1.2 instead of the John 3:16.
Jesse Jackson, threatening to picket Denver Bronco home games this season, assailed Nike for failing to offer similar shoe deals to other NFL back-up quarterbacks of color.
Pro Choice groups, still steaming from the QB's Pro Life Super Bowl ad earlier this year, protested that the Tebow endorsed shoes infringe upon a woman's constitutional right to choose. Pro Choicers plan to boycott not only Nike, but also Jockey, Bible makers and all other products associated with the evangelical NFL rookie.
The ACLU, claiming the Promise decal on the the shoes' heel is another Tebow attempt to proselytize his faith, filed suit in Federal Court against the NFL to protect every American football fan's fundamental right to separation of church and state.
Finally, Homeland Security reporting that any purchaser wearing the new Tebow shoes demonstrated an ability to walk on water while leaving no discernable footprints in the sand, raised its Threat Level to Red. The Department feared that terrorists would go undetected if they wore the new Tebow shoes.
However, Cincinnati safety Kyries Hebert was quick to challenge Homeland Security's charge by offering, "The new Tebow shoes may not leave footprints in the sand, but when #15 runs over you on the goal line, they definitely engrave cleat marks on your forehead."
Straight talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports.
www.facebook.com/theemikefans
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Coca-Cola's Vitamin Water Confession
Sports fans are still laughing after learning last week that Coca-Cola admitted in US District Court that its sports drink Vitamin Water is not a healthy beverage and that it violates FDA food fortification and product naming guidelines.
Imagine that! Only a handful of actual vitamins in a sports drink called Vitamin Water from our "health conscious" friends at Coca-Cola, makers of the "nutritiously rich" Fanta, Fresca, TAB, Pibb Xtra and Mellow Yellow soft drink brands.
So, who will be the next national advertiser who needs to come clean with the American sports fan?
Will Gatorade finally disclose what's actually in you...or us...or it?
Will Nike implore customers to finally stop doing it, i.e. overpaying for their ridiculously over-priced sneakers and athletic apparel?
Will AT&T change its slogan to "Fewer Bars in More Places" to more accurately reflect its at times woeful cellular service?
Will Budweiser report that the same flat-stomached, buxom blondes in their commercials never actually drink their weight gaining product?
Will GEICO fess up that they may have saved you 15% in car insurance, but they raised your deductible to $5,000?
And will McDonald's, Burger King and Taco Bell all be forced to admit that most of their fast food has less nutritional value than say.....Coca-Cola's Vitamin Water?
You get my drift.
I probably could have thiught up plenty more examples of these artificial ads, but I didn't take a Lunesta and stay at a Holiday Inn last night.
Straight talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
www.facebook.com/theemikefans
Imagine that! Only a handful of actual vitamins in a sports drink called Vitamin Water from our "health conscious" friends at Coca-Cola, makers of the "nutritiously rich" Fanta, Fresca, TAB, Pibb Xtra and Mellow Yellow soft drink brands.
So, who will be the next national advertiser who needs to come clean with the American sports fan?
Will Gatorade finally disclose what's actually in you...or us...or it?
Will Nike implore customers to finally stop doing it, i.e. overpaying for their ridiculously over-priced sneakers and athletic apparel?
Will AT&T change its slogan to "Fewer Bars in More Places" to more accurately reflect its at times woeful cellular service?
Will Budweiser report that the same flat-stomached, buxom blondes in their commercials never actually drink their weight gaining product?
Will GEICO fess up that they may have saved you 15% in car insurance, but they raised your deductible to $5,000?
And will McDonald's, Burger King and Taco Bell all be forced to admit that most of their fast food has less nutritional value than say.....Coca-Cola's Vitamin Water?
You get my drift.
I probably could have thiught up plenty more examples of these artificial ads, but I didn't take a Lunesta and stay at a Holiday Inn last night.
Straight talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
www.facebook.com/theemikefans
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Albert Haynesworth Passes Redskins' Test - Satire
Washington Redskins' defensive tackle Albert Haynesworth finally passed his mandatory conditioning test yesterday at the team's practice facility in Ashburn, VA.
Haynesworth successfully completed two sets of back-and-forth 25-yard sprints, passing two dozen buffet tables laden with barbequed ribs, Southern fried chicken, hot biscuits and gravy, and double-dipped chocolate donuts with sprinkles . . . all in under the required four minutes with just a ninety minute nap in between.
With iceburg quickness, Haynesworth exhibited amazing willpower as he lumbered by both rows of bountiful fried feasts and delectable desserts.
Redskins coach Mike Shanahan praised his $100M+ defensive tackle's poise under pressure, commenting, "The fried chicken smelled and looked especially good!"
However, Shanahan feared Haynesworth may have re-tweeked his sore left knee shortly before ending his obligatory run when Big 92 stopped, in cruise ship type suddenness, for a second whiff of the barbequed spare ribs.
Washington's medical staff quickly reported that Haynesworth's knee would be re-examined and that the run stopper's daily diet of carrots, sesame seeds, tofu and a 6 oz. lean chicken breast would be closely monitored.
Haynesworth, who had not spoken to the media before Saturday, publicly thanked Biggest Loser's Jillian Michaels for coaching through this arduous and tempting ordeal.
The Redskins' star lineman now faces his next big test. Can he successfully get off the field when substituted . . . .before the NFL's 25 second play clock expires . . . or will he need to stop for a snack before reaching the sidelines?
Straight Talk. No Static.
MIKE - Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
http://www.facebook.com/theemikefans
Haynesworth successfully completed two sets of back-and-forth 25-yard sprints, passing two dozen buffet tables laden with barbequed ribs, Southern fried chicken, hot biscuits and gravy, and double-dipped chocolate donuts with sprinkles . . . all in under the required four minutes with just a ninety minute nap in between.
With iceburg quickness, Haynesworth exhibited amazing willpower as he lumbered by both rows of bountiful fried feasts and delectable desserts.
Redskins coach Mike Shanahan praised his $100M+ defensive tackle's poise under pressure, commenting, "The fried chicken smelled and looked especially good!"
However, Shanahan feared Haynesworth may have re-tweeked his sore left knee shortly before ending his obligatory run when Big 92 stopped, in cruise ship type suddenness, for a second whiff of the barbequed spare ribs.
Washington's medical staff quickly reported that Haynesworth's knee would be re-examined and that the run stopper's daily diet of carrots, sesame seeds, tofu and a 6 oz. lean chicken breast would be closely monitored.
Haynesworth, who had not spoken to the media before Saturday, publicly thanked Biggest Loser's Jillian Michaels for coaching through this arduous and tempting ordeal.
The Redskins' star lineman now faces his next big test. Can he successfully get off the field when substituted . . . .before the NFL's 25 second play clock expires . . . or will he need to stop for a snack before reaching the sidelines?
Straight Talk. No Static.
MIKE - Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
http://www.facebook.com/theemikefans
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Knuckleheaded Knicks
Tell me James Dolan and Donnie Walsh aren't a couple of Knuckleheaded Knicks.
What on earth were they thinking? I didn't know whether to laugh, cry or scream upon learning the news that these two senior NBA executives re-signed former NY Knicks President and Coach Isaiah Thomas as a special consultant to their organization.
Dolan's and Walsh's decision to rehire Thomas is deplorably, ridiculously, irresponsibly disgusting. Their knuckledheaded move sends the WRONG message.....that anyone can get rehired by your former employee even after you:
1. fail miserably at your job as a coach with a woeful 23-59 record in 2007-08
2. cost your former bosses $11.6 million to settle a lawsuit you caused
3. sexually harass a woman who worked for you
and worse yet...
4. throw your very own daughter under the proverbial bus when the police respond to your home to investigate your purported drug overdose / suicide.
I'm very curious to see whether self-righteous NBA Commissioner David Stern, so protective of the league's declining image, weighs in on this abhorent NY Knicks news.
In a professional basketball league where "Amazing Happens" there should never be any room for the reprehensible decisions of Knuckleheaded Knicks.
Straight talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American Made Voice on Sports!
www.facebook.com/theemikefans
What on earth were they thinking? I didn't know whether to laugh, cry or scream upon learning the news that these two senior NBA executives re-signed former NY Knicks President and Coach Isaiah Thomas as a special consultant to their organization.
Dolan's and Walsh's decision to rehire Thomas is deplorably, ridiculously, irresponsibly disgusting. Their knuckledheaded move sends the WRONG message.....that anyone can get rehired by your former employee even after you:
1. fail miserably at your job as a coach with a woeful 23-59 record in 2007-08
2. cost your former bosses $11.6 million to settle a lawsuit you caused
3. sexually harass a woman who worked for you
and worse yet...
4. throw your very own daughter under the proverbial bus when the police respond to your home to investigate your purported drug overdose / suicide.
I'm very curious to see whether self-righteous NBA Commissioner David Stern, so protective of the league's declining image, weighs in on this abhorent NY Knicks news.
In a professional basketball league where "Amazing Happens" there should never be any room for the reprehensible decisions of Knuckleheaded Knicks.
Straight talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American Made Voice on Sports!
www.facebook.com/theemikefans
Friday, August 6, 2010
No Penance for Pitino
Another fallen skirt chaser in the sports world will not be disciplined.
University of Louisville Athletic Director Tom Jurich reiterated his school's unwavering support for Men's Basketball Coach Rick Pitino yesterday following the conviction of Karen Cunagin Sypher, 50, for attempting to extort millions from the Cardinals' high profile coach after their tawdry tryst.
The skirt chasing Pitino's foolish philandering in 2003 has cost him and his school public embarrassment and national ridicule. However, Slick Rick won't face any disciplinary action from the university or, at this time, from the NCAA.
Astonishingly, the Big East School earlier this year awarded Pitino with a four year contract extension through 2017. As many Catholics expressed, "What a Cardinal sin of epic proportions!"
This torrid tale would not be so tawdry and worth retelling had it not been for Pitino presenting himself as a paragon of family values while parading around with a Parish priest and piously pontificating about Catholic principles.
The media has had lots of fallen skirt chasers to report on these days, and Rick Pitino hasn't been the only adulterer asking for forgiveness for his duplicitous decisions. Pittsburgh Steeler QB Ben Roethlisberger regretted running after a Goergia vixen, and iconic golfer Tiger Woods apologized for his serial indiscretions. While the NFL suspended Big Ben for the start of the season, the PGA Tour took a much different approach and never even attempted to correct the wayward Woods - the sport's undisputed cash cow.
So, it'll interesting to witness which philandering philosophy the usually conservative NCAA embraces as the lurid details of Pitino's frolicking and subsequent cover-up have publicly unfolded. Will the NCAA face Pitino's foibles straight fowardly and formally kick his can to the curb for violating the collegiate organization's morality standards? Or, will the NCAA support Louisville and stauchly stand by its "stud" coach like the the PGA Tour's laughable loyalty to its lecherous lout? After all, aren't there 20,000 seats in Louisville's new downtown arena that need to be filled?
The University of Louisville had the opportunity to take a stand by setting the example that wanna-be womanizers need to keep their zippers zipped.
Now, it's the NCAA's turn to prescribe penance for Pitino's pathetic hypocrisy.
Staright talk, No static.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
University of Louisville Athletic Director Tom Jurich reiterated his school's unwavering support for Men's Basketball Coach Rick Pitino yesterday following the conviction of Karen Cunagin Sypher, 50, for attempting to extort millions from the Cardinals' high profile coach after their tawdry tryst.
The skirt chasing Pitino's foolish philandering in 2003 has cost him and his school public embarrassment and national ridicule. However, Slick Rick won't face any disciplinary action from the university or, at this time, from the NCAA.
Astonishingly, the Big East School earlier this year awarded Pitino with a four year contract extension through 2017. As many Catholics expressed, "What a Cardinal sin of epic proportions!"
This torrid tale would not be so tawdry and worth retelling had it not been for Pitino presenting himself as a paragon of family values while parading around with a Parish priest and piously pontificating about Catholic principles.
The media has had lots of fallen skirt chasers to report on these days, and Rick Pitino hasn't been the only adulterer asking for forgiveness for his duplicitous decisions. Pittsburgh Steeler QB Ben Roethlisberger regretted running after a Goergia vixen, and iconic golfer Tiger Woods apologized for his serial indiscretions. While the NFL suspended Big Ben for the start of the season, the PGA Tour took a much different approach and never even attempted to correct the wayward Woods - the sport's undisputed cash cow.
So, it'll interesting to witness which philandering philosophy the usually conservative NCAA embraces as the lurid details of Pitino's frolicking and subsequent cover-up have publicly unfolded. Will the NCAA face Pitino's foibles straight fowardly and formally kick his can to the curb for violating the collegiate organization's morality standards? Or, will the NCAA support Louisville and stauchly stand by its "stud" coach like the the PGA Tour's laughable loyalty to its lecherous lout? After all, aren't there 20,000 seats in Louisville's new downtown arena that need to be filled?
The University of Louisville had the opportunity to take a stand by setting the example that wanna-be womanizers need to keep their zippers zipped.
Now, it's the NCAA's turn to prescribe penance for Pitino's pathetic hypocrisy.
Staright talk, No static.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
Thursday, August 5, 2010
SHAQ-tastrophe!
The Celtics are courting SHAQ-tastrophe!
Last season's NBA Finals Runner Ups are flaunting with failure as the Celtics have signed 38-year-old former NBA All-Star Shaquille O'Neal to a two year contract.
In this coming NBA season, look for a series of SHAQ-tastrophes beginning with a kelly green clad sputtering Big Diesel lumbering down the parquet court of Boston's TD Bank and North Garden.
Already limited in its fast break, an aged Celtics team has added the glacier quick Shaq to its squad. . . certain to tether itself further to the immovable foundation of Boston's iconic John Hancock Building.
At first, watch the plodding Planet Cryptonite schmooze teammates with his signature shuck and jive and influence his new Boston friends with a feigned team-first philosophy. However, O'Neal's game has always been Shaq vs. . . well . . . everybody else . . . 'cause it's always been all about 7' 1" and 335+ pounds of Shaq and his monumental ego.
Then, just wait till December, when Shaq Daddy wants more touches and disheartened guards like Rajon Rondo and Nate Robinson howl at the horrific sight of this Big Fella hampering their way to the hoop.
Worse yet, wait until February, when the original Celtic Big 3 of Ray Allen, Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett have had enough hubris from this new Hulking Ham in the Hub City hoping to become a cozy Celtic Quartet. But that won't ever happen.
Expect O'Neal to exit Boston after just one season or maybe even sooner. History documents his less than magical departure from Orlando, his petty parting from the Lakers, Shaq's scorched separations from the Suns and Heat and his recent cavalier departure from Cleveland.
Despite my prognostications, here's hoping the Celtics will salvage this season by muzzling this megalomaniac and sparingly utilizing his waning talents.
Otherwise, Coach Doc Rivers will be courting a sure SHAQ-tastrophe with the NBA's former Superman and now sputtering Big Diesel.
Straight Talk. No Static.
MIKE - Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
Last season's NBA Finals Runner Ups are flaunting with failure as the Celtics have signed 38-year-old former NBA All-Star Shaquille O'Neal to a two year contract.
In this coming NBA season, look for a series of SHAQ-tastrophes beginning with a kelly green clad sputtering Big Diesel lumbering down the parquet court of Boston's TD Bank and North Garden.
Already limited in its fast break, an aged Celtics team has added the glacier quick Shaq to its squad. . . certain to tether itself further to the immovable foundation of Boston's iconic John Hancock Building.
At first, watch the plodding Planet Cryptonite schmooze teammates with his signature shuck and jive and influence his new Boston friends with a feigned team-first philosophy. However, O'Neal's game has always been Shaq vs. . . well . . . everybody else . . . 'cause it's always been all about 7' 1" and 335+ pounds of Shaq and his monumental ego.
Then, just wait till December, when Shaq Daddy wants more touches and disheartened guards like Rajon Rondo and Nate Robinson howl at the horrific sight of this Big Fella hampering their way to the hoop.
Worse yet, wait until February, when the original Celtic Big 3 of Ray Allen, Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett have had enough hubris from this new Hulking Ham in the Hub City hoping to become a cozy Celtic Quartet. But that won't ever happen.
Expect O'Neal to exit Boston after just one season or maybe even sooner. History documents his less than magical departure from Orlando, his petty parting from the Lakers, Shaq's scorched separations from the Suns and Heat and his recent cavalier departure from Cleveland.
Despite my prognostications, here's hoping the Celtics will salvage this season by muzzling this megalomaniac and sparingly utilizing his waning talents.
Otherwise, Coach Doc Rivers will be courting a sure SHAQ-tastrophe with the NBA's former Superman and now sputtering Big Diesel.
Straight Talk. No Static.
MIKE - Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Lebron James' Decision Part II
Sources close to the King-Without-a-Ring reported that ESPN will devote another hour covering Lebron James' decision to take his talented flesh to Miami. This time....to get another tattoo.
Incredulous at first, ESPN never thought Lebron had enough flesh cap room left on his body to possibly accomodate another tattoo. However, upon further scrutiny, ESPN believed LBJ's anticipated body art announcement warranted another prime time infomercial.
Hoping to avoid the train wreck of last week's Lebron James' Decision - Part I, ESPN announced that legendary rocker and tattoo afficianado Tommy Lee would host the event. Having gone under the needle hundreds of times before, ESPN thought Lee would offer credibility and maturity. Heavily pierced and more heavilt tatted, Lee will ask Lebron the body art questions all of America is pining to know. And maybe, just maybe, this time Lebron will actually remember all of the pre-scripted questions.
Tommy Lee's interview will purportedly take place on a make-shift stage set in one of South Beach's bevy of ink parlors. Aspiring tattooists from throughout South Florida as well as most members of the Denver Nugget basketball team are expected to be on hand to offer Lebron much needed support.
Speculation concerning the nature of more indistinguishable body art adorning the body of the reigning NBA MVP continues to build, and Vegas oddsmakers soon plan to post their prognostications. Undisclosed sources in the James camp have been heard to comment that:
Cleveland Cavalier owner Dan Gilbert suggested an image of Benedict Arnold be emblazoned prominently on whatever area of un-inked flesh flesh remained on Lebron's body.
Former teammates Mo Williams and Anderson Verajou pleaded with Lebron to memorialize them by inking their initials on his back, you know, the very same back the former 23 carried them on the last two NBA seasons.
Reverend Jesse Jackson implored the now former Cavalier to display the words, "emancipated indentured servant" on the unfettered hands that passed, rebounded and scored so effortlessly for his Plantation minded bosses in Cleveland.
Bulls, Nets, Knicks and Clippers representatives pushed for Lebron to officially change his new Miami Heat number from 6 to 666 and ink it permanently on his forehead.
However, the decision on what to do next in Miami with his talented flesh rests entirely with the King-Without-a-Ring.
Tune in to ESPN's next Lebron-athon, and you'll know the answer to LBJ's agonizing decision - and hopefully not after Tommy Lee's 16th question.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
Incredulous at first, ESPN never thought Lebron had enough flesh cap room left on his body to possibly accomodate another tattoo. However, upon further scrutiny, ESPN believed LBJ's anticipated body art announcement warranted another prime time infomercial.
Hoping to avoid the train wreck of last week's Lebron James' Decision - Part I, ESPN announced that legendary rocker and tattoo afficianado Tommy Lee would host the event. Having gone under the needle hundreds of times before, ESPN thought Lee would offer credibility and maturity. Heavily pierced and more heavilt tatted, Lee will ask Lebron the body art questions all of America is pining to know. And maybe, just maybe, this time Lebron will actually remember all of the pre-scripted questions.
Tommy Lee's interview will purportedly take place on a make-shift stage set in one of South Beach's bevy of ink parlors. Aspiring tattooists from throughout South Florida as well as most members of the Denver Nugget basketball team are expected to be on hand to offer Lebron much needed support.
Speculation concerning the nature of more indistinguishable body art adorning the body of the reigning NBA MVP continues to build, and Vegas oddsmakers soon plan to post their prognostications. Undisclosed sources in the James camp have been heard to comment that:
Cleveland Cavalier owner Dan Gilbert suggested an image of Benedict Arnold be emblazoned prominently on whatever area of un-inked flesh flesh remained on Lebron's body.
Former teammates Mo Williams and Anderson Verajou pleaded with Lebron to memorialize them by inking their initials on his back, you know, the very same back the former 23 carried them on the last two NBA seasons.
Reverend Jesse Jackson implored the now former Cavalier to display the words, "emancipated indentured servant" on the unfettered hands that passed, rebounded and scored so effortlessly for his Plantation minded bosses in Cleveland.
Bulls, Nets, Knicks and Clippers representatives pushed for Lebron to officially change his new Miami Heat number from 6 to 666 and ink it permanently on his forehead.
However, the decision on what to do next in Miami with his talented flesh rests entirely with the King-Without-a-Ring.
Tune in to ESPN's next Lebron-athon, and you'll know the answer to LBJ's agonizing decision - and hopefully not after Tommy Lee's 16th question.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
Monday, July 12, 2010
Red Card the Refs!
OK, Sepp Blatter. Dust off your personal collection of Red Cards and start booking some of the bumbling blokes you assembled to referee in this year's World Cup.
Red Card all the refs responsible for their awful officiating in South Africa...which was about as predictable as the flight of a Jubalani soccer ball.
Kick off (pun intended) the purging process by poking a gigantic Red Card under the nose of Howard Webb - the chap you chose to officiate yesterday's plodding championship game between Spain and the Netherlands.
Who cares if Howard Webb was the best the English premiere league had to offer? So what if he issued 13 Yellow Cards and one Red Card during Spain's 1 - 0 victory over The Netherlands in extra time.
There should never have been any extra time . . . thanks to Howie.
Oranje fans will never forgive this English ref for failing to book Spanish defender Carles Puyol in the waning moments of the match. Puyol grabbed fleet-footed Arjen Robben just outside the penalty area during the Dutch striker's unobstructed path to the net.
Surprisingly, the Yellow Card Happy Howie inexplicably swallowed his whistle on this game-altering play. Howie allowed the action to continue unabated as Puyol improperly impeded Robben's impending goal scoring run. Regulation time soon expired, and the Spaniards marched on to win the title in extra time . . . thanks to Howie's inconsistent officiating.
Howard Webb may have missed this now infamous infraction. However, 700 million ESPN viewers from around the globe certainly saw it in stunning HDTV either in the luxury of their living rooms or while chugging a beer in their favorite pub.
Here's hoping Sepp Blatter exhausts his personal collection of Red Cards on the woeful refs responsible for careless calls in South Africa. And, finally, before we samba on down to Rio for World Cup 2014, here's hoping Sepp Blatter Heimlichs any refs content on choking on their whistles . . . instead of blowing them.
MIKE - Thee American Made Voice on Sports
Friday, July 9, 2010
Lebron James' Decision Part 1 - Me, Myself & I
Me, Myself and I were the only people that Lebron James ever cared about.
Us, We and Team never factored into Lebron's decision to forsake his faithful fans and teammates in Cleveland and bolt to the broiling beaches of Miami.
Forget about family. Forget about friendship. Forget about fostering hope for a struggling region in our country. Fortune and fame were the only fundamental factors forcing the career choice of the selfish would-be king without a ring.
Last night in a tightly scripted declaration, the now former Cleveland Cavalier star finally decreed his royally self-serving plans to a national television audience. Lebron's decision was all about him, himself and he! Never were any plural pronouns even considered in James' edict.
The Press, most unnervingly ESPN, pandered pathetically to the hysteria hovering around Prima-don Lebron's free agency announcement. Court jestering replaced ESPN's normally respected journalistic coverage. Lebron's hand-picked interviewer Jim Gray lobbied softballs at the reigning NBA MVP - smartly arrayed in a purple and white checked shirt . . . and thankfully not in purple robes, sceptre and crown.
Worse yet, sports fans tolerated the pomp and circumstance surrounding James' surreal free agency circus. Bracing for pain, we all tuned in to ESPN last night to witness the inevitable . . . all the time secretly hoping LBJ would never spurn the Rust Belt for the sun, surf and sand of South Florida.
Even the Cavalier franchise and the surrounding Cleveland community succumbed to carefully courting the king, cautious not to upset him while praying and pining that their hometown hero would eschew the bigger city spotlights for the rain-soaked shores of Lake Erie.
Other NBA owners frolicked in Lebronamania, knowing the word Billion was Lebron's primary motivation and foolishly thinking 23 would move his monarchy to their metro markets.
Now jilted and scorned, we all had hoped the hometown hero would hunker down in Cleveland and bring the city by the lake that long sought after championship in pro sports for which it has thirsted for the past 50 years.
Okay sports fans, after all this ranting over Lebron's leaving it's now time for us to move on - let's forgive 23 for forsaking us and wish the man the best in his quest for a ring in Miami.
Sure, Lebron should have stayed - but he didn't. Sure, Lebron could have consulted with us - but he hadn't. Sure, Lebron would have been forever loved in Ohio - but he won't.
However, when you're calling South Beach home, and the guaranteed millions are already in the bank, it's easy to understand why . . . Me, Myself and I are the only three people on the planet that Lebron James ever cared about.
Straight Talk, No Static.
MIKE . . . Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
Us, We and Team never factored into Lebron's decision to forsake his faithful fans and teammates in Cleveland and bolt to the broiling beaches of Miami.
Forget about family. Forget about friendship. Forget about fostering hope for a struggling region in our country. Fortune and fame were the only fundamental factors forcing the career choice of the selfish would-be king without a ring.
Last night in a tightly scripted declaration, the now former Cleveland Cavalier star finally decreed his royally self-serving plans to a national television audience. Lebron's decision was all about him, himself and he! Never were any plural pronouns even considered in James' edict.
The Press, most unnervingly ESPN, pandered pathetically to the hysteria hovering around Prima-don Lebron's free agency announcement. Court jestering replaced ESPN's normally respected journalistic coverage. Lebron's hand-picked interviewer Jim Gray lobbied softballs at the reigning NBA MVP - smartly arrayed in a purple and white checked shirt . . . and thankfully not in purple robes, sceptre and crown.
Worse yet, sports fans tolerated the pomp and circumstance surrounding James' surreal free agency circus. Bracing for pain, we all tuned in to ESPN last night to witness the inevitable . . . all the time secretly hoping LBJ would never spurn the Rust Belt for the sun, surf and sand of South Florida.
Even the Cavalier franchise and the surrounding Cleveland community succumbed to carefully courting the king, cautious not to upset him while praying and pining that their hometown hero would eschew the bigger city spotlights for the rain-soaked shores of Lake Erie.
Other NBA owners frolicked in Lebronamania, knowing the word Billion was Lebron's primary motivation and foolishly thinking 23 would move his monarchy to their metro markets.
Now jilted and scorned, we all had hoped the hometown hero would hunker down in Cleveland and bring the city by the lake that long sought after championship in pro sports for which it has thirsted for the past 50 years.
Okay sports fans, after all this ranting over Lebron's leaving it's now time for us to move on - let's forgive 23 for forsaking us and wish the man the best in his quest for a ring in Miami.
Sure, Lebron should have stayed - but he didn't. Sure, Lebron could have consulted with us - but he hadn't. Sure, Lebron would have been forever loved in Ohio - but he won't.
However, when you're calling South Beach home, and the guaranteed millions are already in the bank, it's easy to understand why . . . Me, Myself and I are the only three people on the planet that Lebron James ever cared about.
Straight Talk, No Static.
MIKE . . . Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
God's Hand Returns to this Year's World Cup
The Hand of God has returned to this year's World Cup.
Not on the pitch - as in the famed 1986 England vs. Argentina World Cup quarter-final match in Mexico City - but rather on the sideline.
Once again, God has freely handed soccer fans across the globe the eternally entertaining gift of Team Argentina's Coach - Diego Maradona.
Today's chubby coaching caricature may look more like a trite Telemundo Talk Show Host than the world class player he once was. But, Maradona no longer needs a soccer ball to save and dazzle during this World Cup. He still can enrapture viewers every time ESPN's wide angle camera lenses turn his way.
Long gone are Diego's deft touches, sudden bursts of athleticism and scintillating soccer skills. Although Diego's soccer lore has been resurrected, his long lost athletic glory has been replaced by melodramatic John Gotti type mannerisms, sharp blasts of profanity and elongated bouts of exxagerated emotion in which the quixotic coach warmly embraces the very same players he routinely castigates.
A sight to behold on the sidelines, the dapper Diego unabashedly sports identical wrist watches on either arm and matching diamond softball-sized studs in either ear. Squeezing into a freshly Armor-alled goonish grey suit, the mercurial Maradona looks more loan shark than soccer coach.
Passion personified, Diego smiles, snarls, steams, struts and stomps along the sidelines while relentlessly combing his jet black dyed mane with his 1986 beefy Hand of God miracle mitt. Barely able to corral his bullish frame within the obligatory coaching box, Maradona challenges every officiating call, while grasping his rosary beads with a vice grip and gesticulating un-sactimoniously for his worldwide audience to witness.
So, the next time we pay Penance by yawning through another listless France vs. Uruguay nil - nil draw, let's offer our thanks to the Almighty for the gift that God so freely handed to us again in this year's World Cup.
Diego may be the only salvation we'll need to enjoy this year's tournament.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
Not on the pitch - as in the famed 1986 England vs. Argentina World Cup quarter-final match in Mexico City - but rather on the sideline.
Once again, God has freely handed soccer fans across the globe the eternally entertaining gift of Team Argentina's Coach - Diego Maradona.
Today's chubby coaching caricature may look more like a trite Telemundo Talk Show Host than the world class player he once was. But, Maradona no longer needs a soccer ball to save and dazzle during this World Cup. He still can enrapture viewers every time ESPN's wide angle camera lenses turn his way.
Long gone are Diego's deft touches, sudden bursts of athleticism and scintillating soccer skills. Although Diego's soccer lore has been resurrected, his long lost athletic glory has been replaced by melodramatic John Gotti type mannerisms, sharp blasts of profanity and elongated bouts of exxagerated emotion in which the quixotic coach warmly embraces the very same players he routinely castigates.
A sight to behold on the sidelines, the dapper Diego unabashedly sports identical wrist watches on either arm and matching diamond softball-sized studs in either ear. Squeezing into a freshly Armor-alled goonish grey suit, the mercurial Maradona looks more loan shark than soccer coach.
Passion personified, Diego smiles, snarls, steams, struts and stomps along the sidelines while relentlessly combing his jet black dyed mane with his 1986 beefy Hand of God miracle mitt. Barely able to corral his bullish frame within the obligatory coaching box, Maradona challenges every officiating call, while grasping his rosary beads with a vice grip and gesticulating un-sactimoniously for his worldwide audience to witness.
So, the next time we pay Penance by yawning through another listless France vs. Uruguay nil - nil draw, let's offer our thanks to the Almighty for the gift that God so freely handed to us again in this year's World Cup.
Diego may be the only salvation we'll need to enjoy this year's tournament.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
What CBS Misses in its March Madness Coverage
Going into this weekend, the NCAA Men's College Basketball Tournament has been officially trimmed to four fantastic teams, and this year's CBS March Madness television coverage has once again frustrated the lucid, logical thinking of reasonably intelligent college basketball fans everywhere.
Big Dance diehards have fallen fast for the foolish fodder and boyish banter beaming from the CBS broadcast booth without ever questioning the corny, cliche cloaked commentary and overt omissions of CBS' celebrated basketball announcers.
At times, CBS ignores the blatantly obvious right at the tip of your nose stuff, while hypnotically hounding fans with hokey, hyperbolic play-by-play analysis, subtly sucking viewers brains right out of their cranial cavities.
So, college basketball fans, put the Panasonic plasma on pause and ponder these missing March Madness oversights, compliments of CBS' college basketball announcers.
Here are my first 4 forgettable picks:
#1. The Missed Free Throw Party - OK, so why can't we find anyone in the CBS broadcast booth with some bravado to decry the dubiously dreadful display of celebrating shooting ineptitude nearly every time a free throw shooter misses a gimme from the charity stripe?
Doesn't anybody else on the planet find it utterly ridiculous when teammates enthusiastically approach the brick-laying free throw shooter and congratulate him with high fives and pats to the butt after he just clanged an important freebie from 15 feet? Imagine if MLB infielders raced to the pitcher's mound to bask in the embarrassment of a pitcher who's last fast ball wound up 450' away as some fan's souvenir in the center field's stands!
CBS' silence on the Missed Free Throw Party makes no sense whatsoever to me.
#2. Tattoos - Once again, why doesn't someone in the CBS broadcast booth blurt out the obvious and bemoan the proliferation of butt-ugly tattoos blanketing far too much of the basketball players' exposed skin? After witnessing Northern Iowa's upset of Kansas, I'm all for lobbying for an NCAA ban barring big, beefy boys without a tan from ever sporting multi-colored tattoos on any part of their bodies.
My second petition will be for the NCAA to mandate long-sleeved, turtle necked shirts to cover any future fashion paux of all heavily inked players because it seems like inebriated frat house friends frolicked with Etch-a-Sketch art on the chiseled players' forearms, biceps, backs, necks and shoulders!
Perhaps CBS should initiate a think before you ink campaign to spare viewers at home from witnessing these unsightly tattoos.
#3. College Basketball's Teflon Coated Coach - OK, why aren't college basketball conspiratorial crazies feasting on the journalistic blackout concerning Kentucky coach John Calipari? Never heard a peep from any of the boys in the CBS broadcast booth scrutinizing this slippery and unscrupulous coaching cad from Lexington. College basketball's highest paid coach is historically a walking NCAA infraction-in-the-making with a well-chronicled resume of recruiting players with no regard for collegiate consistency, scholarship and integrity within their university's basketball program.
Perhaps the CBS boys believe Kentucky actually recruited Coach Calipari to improve its anemic 9% graduation rate or that the muck that Just in Time Johnny (getting out of the place before your sordid history catches up with you) left at Memphis and Massachusetts was merely coincidental. Duh!
#4 - There's a Lid on the Basket - Doesn't anyone else agree that this is one of the most over used cliches in sports? CBS sportscasters need to remove from their repertoire this ritualistic excuse for poor shooting. Come on, CBS, give the opposing team's defense better credit and mute any mention of this trite expression citing a metaphorical metal disk hermetically soldered to a rim. There isn't anything physical attached to the rim prohibiting the ball from going into the basket.
The only things preventing better shooting are better shooters or even better defense from the opposition..... and it doesn't require a handsomely paid former player wearing a thousand dollar suit sitting in a broadcast booth to figure it out.
Maybe CBS should put lids on the lips of some of their basketball broadcasting boys in the booth before they blurt out any more corny cliches or totally overlook the obvious.
OK, college basketball fans, email me your selections of slack CBS sports casting and blatanly obvious omissions from this year's NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament.
Straight talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Can You Say Ali Farokhamesh?
Can you say Ali Farokhamesh (Ah'-lee Fa-rook'-ha-mesh)?
After this past weekend, absolutely! Even if you're only a casual college basketball fan, you're probably proclaiming the name Ali Farokhamesh everywhere you go.
As a matter of fact, with unabashed confidence you're more than likely repeatedly rattling off the tongue-twisting name Ali Farokhamesh, but you're also spelling it, properly syllabicating it, and quickly correcting the butchery of those who stutter when they can't make it past the first three letters of this stellar guard's last name.
Ali Farokhamesh. The Rook to his team mates - is arguably the number one story in this year's NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament and the one player mostly responsible for manufacturing America's first bout of mania during this Spring's March Madness.
Expect Farokhamesh-a-mania to flourish for at least another five fabulous days until the Sweet Sixteen resumes next Saturday in St. Louis. Little Ali's created the kind of Big Dance buzz that rivals the likes of Cincinnati's Big O's scintillations of the early 60's, Michigan State's Magic's mesmerizing moves of the 70's, Jimmy V's vanquishing the vaunted Phi Slamma Jamma in the 80's, Duke's dazzling Laettner turn-around in the early 90's and the Cuse's Freshman Phenon Carmelo's captivation of college fans earlier this decade.
Ali Farokhamesh. The only thing wrong about him is his six foot height generously exaggerated on the Northern Iowa Panther basketball team roster. However, in spite of this one accepted abberation, everything else is soooooo very right about this thick, hairy-legged, under-sized, midwestern kid with the receding hairline and barely pronounceable last name willing to take crazy, calculated, career-defining shots on the biggest stage during the biggest game of his life against heavily favored opponents before a national television audience.
Ali Farokhamesh. A name never to be forgotten for a lifetime of Big Dances. Forget the March Madness Heroes of NCAA Tournaments past. Move over, Magic (Johnson), Michael (Jordan) and Manning (Danny). Wipe Wilt (Chamberlain) and Walton (Bill) off your list. And don't even challenge me with the name of Kansas' Mario Chalmers. Ali has emerged as the Hero of Heroes and Prom King of the Big Dance.....even if he never makes it past the Sweet Sixteen.
Ali Farokhamesh. Get used to hearing and seeing a lot of this alphabet soup of a name. Ali's two tournament game heroics will be constantly replayed, analyzed, dissected, fawned over and endlessly enjoyed in our living rooms for all of America . . . at least until he and his Panthers lace 'em up again next weekend.
Ali Farokhamesh. The reason why teams play the game . . . any game . . . is because even the number 1 seeded, more highly touted, athletically gifted, tremendously talented teams on PAPER must show up every night to take on unknown, over-achieving underdogs. But when the nationally ranked titans don't show up, little-known Goliath-killer mid-major teams like Northern Iowa with unheard-of players like Ali Farokhamesh rise up, seize the moment and write their own chapter in NCAA Basketball Tournament history.
Ali Farokhamesh. Yup, I love writing this name as much as I love saying it. Thanks to this Iowa City native and Kirkwood, Iowa Junior College transfer guard for making my March Madness so memorable already.
Ali Farokhamesh. All the best to you in St. Louis next weekend, Mr. Fearlessly Firing Shooting Guard with the twin fire hydrant legs, when your Northern Iowa squad squares off against another heavily favored team for a spot in the Elite Eight.
Trust me, at tip-off, sports fans across America will know who you are and will eloquently and effortlessly be able to say your name - Ali Farokhamesh.
Straight Talk. No Static.
MIKE - Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
After this past weekend, absolutely! Even if you're only a casual college basketball fan, you're probably proclaiming the name Ali Farokhamesh everywhere you go.
As a matter of fact, with unabashed confidence you're more than likely repeatedly rattling off the tongue-twisting name Ali Farokhamesh, but you're also spelling it, properly syllabicating it, and quickly correcting the butchery of those who stutter when they can't make it past the first three letters of this stellar guard's last name.
Ali Farokhamesh. The Rook to his team mates - is arguably the number one story in this year's NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament and the one player mostly responsible for manufacturing America's first bout of mania during this Spring's March Madness.
Expect Farokhamesh-a-mania to flourish for at least another five fabulous days until the Sweet Sixteen resumes next Saturday in St. Louis. Little Ali's created the kind of Big Dance buzz that rivals the likes of Cincinnati's Big O's scintillations of the early 60's, Michigan State's Magic's mesmerizing moves of the 70's, Jimmy V's vanquishing the vaunted Phi Slamma Jamma in the 80's, Duke's dazzling Laettner turn-around in the early 90's and the Cuse's Freshman Phenon Carmelo's captivation of college fans earlier this decade.
Ali Farokhamesh. The only thing wrong about him is his six foot height generously exaggerated on the Northern Iowa Panther basketball team roster. However, in spite of this one accepted abberation, everything else is soooooo very right about this thick, hairy-legged, under-sized, midwestern kid with the receding hairline and barely pronounceable last name willing to take crazy, calculated, career-defining shots on the biggest stage during the biggest game of his life against heavily favored opponents before a national television audience.
Ali Farokhamesh. A name never to be forgotten for a lifetime of Big Dances. Forget the March Madness Heroes of NCAA Tournaments past. Move over, Magic (Johnson), Michael (Jordan) and Manning (Danny). Wipe Wilt (Chamberlain) and Walton (Bill) off your list. And don't even challenge me with the name of Kansas' Mario Chalmers. Ali has emerged as the Hero of Heroes and Prom King of the Big Dance.....even if he never makes it past the Sweet Sixteen.
Ali Farokhamesh. Get used to hearing and seeing a lot of this alphabet soup of a name. Ali's two tournament game heroics will be constantly replayed, analyzed, dissected, fawned over and endlessly enjoyed in our living rooms for all of America . . . at least until he and his Panthers lace 'em up again next weekend.
Ali Farokhamesh. The reason why teams play the game . . . any game . . . is because even the number 1 seeded, more highly touted, athletically gifted, tremendously talented teams on PAPER must show up every night to take on unknown, over-achieving underdogs. But when the nationally ranked titans don't show up, little-known Goliath-killer mid-major teams like Northern Iowa with unheard-of players like Ali Farokhamesh rise up, seize the moment and write their own chapter in NCAA Basketball Tournament history.
Ali Farokhamesh. Yup, I love writing this name as much as I love saying it. Thanks to this Iowa City native and Kirkwood, Iowa Junior College transfer guard for making my March Madness so memorable already.
Ali Farokhamesh. All the best to you in St. Louis next weekend, Mr. Fearlessly Firing Shooting Guard with the twin fire hydrant legs, when your Northern Iowa squad squares off against another heavily favored team for a spot in the Elite Eight.
Trust me, at tip-off, sports fans across America will know who you are and will eloquently and effortlessly be able to say your name - Ali Farokhamesh.
Straight Talk. No Static.
MIKE - Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Let the Nail Biting Begin!
Maddened by another early March malaise, munchers, crunchers and nibblers alike will be unwittingly fidgeting and feasting on fingernails while watching their favorite schools participate in College Basketball's Big Dance of 2010.
I say, let the Nail Biting Begin!
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
www.theemike.com
......MIKE's "Let the Nail Biting Begin" post was selected as a finalist in the nationally recognized Last Fan Standing 2010 Sports Blogging Contest. To read MIKE's "Let the Nail Biting Begin" blog in its entirety, click this link at www.lastfanstanding2010.com/articles/pages/5/
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Caught up with the Kardashians
I just caught up with the Kardashians.
How ironic! A month ago I had absolutely no idea what a Kardashian was. But now I do...even though I wish I never did...catch up with a Kardashian that is.
OK, sports fans, with the Saints' recent Super Bowl success and the Lakers looming large to repeat as NBA Champs, the name Kardashian has become synonymous with sports.
Because a Kardashian is someone who has mastered a new sport; namely, Gold Digging for Athletes!
Lusting for luxurious lifestyles and seeking second-rate celebrity status, Khloe and Kim Kardashian have struck gold.
Yes, the Kardashian girls have hit the motherlode with Khloe landing Laker Lamar Odom in an E! sponsored wedding and Kim reuniting with Saints Running Back Reggie Bush.
These two reality show drama divas demonstrate for shiny toothed, buxom babes everywhere that there’s a fortune to be had in sports . . . even if you don’t play one.
To keep up with these Kardashians and become a Kardashian yourself, just follow these simple gold digging guidelines:
SHUT OUT…any discussions of ever having to work a real job.
GO DEEP. .. into the wallets of multi-million dollar athletes.
FAST BREAK…to an MTV crib you’ve never contributed a dime to build.
KNOCK OUT…your new man’s Platinum Card balance while shopping on Rodeo Drive.
TOUCH DOWN . . . in your hubby’s private jet and step out on his red-carpeted runway.
The tawdry tale of gold digging as sport won’t be fully told for another decade or so…’til these dabbling divas’ vocabulary fails to evolve past manicures, pedicures, texting and clubbing, and their men desire to discuss details other than shopping, shopping & more shopping.
When the clock winds down (and it will), we’ll be able to test the long term carat value -10, 14 or 24 carat, that is - of this sport known as Gold Digging for Athletes. Unless there’s some true burnishing going on and the players refine some nuggets within themselves, we might learn that Lamar and Reggie don't want to extend the game. . . in which case, “keeping up with the Kardashians” will be a short-lived sport after all.
Straight Talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
How ironic! A month ago I had absolutely no idea what a Kardashian was. But now I do...even though I wish I never did...catch up with a Kardashian that is.
OK, sports fans, with the Saints' recent Super Bowl success and the Lakers looming large to repeat as NBA Champs, the name Kardashian has become synonymous with sports.
Because a Kardashian is someone who has mastered a new sport; namely, Gold Digging for Athletes!
Lusting for luxurious lifestyles and seeking second-rate celebrity status, Khloe and Kim Kardashian have struck gold.
Yes, the Kardashian girls have hit the motherlode with Khloe landing Laker Lamar Odom in an E! sponsored wedding and Kim reuniting with Saints Running Back Reggie Bush.
These two reality show drama divas demonstrate for shiny toothed, buxom babes everywhere that there’s a fortune to be had in sports . . . even if you don’t play one.
To keep up with these Kardashians and become a Kardashian yourself, just follow these simple gold digging guidelines:
SHUT OUT…any discussions of ever having to work a real job.
GO DEEP. .. into the wallets of multi-million dollar athletes.
FAST BREAK…to an MTV crib you’ve never contributed a dime to build.
KNOCK OUT…your new man’s Platinum Card balance while shopping on Rodeo Drive.
TOUCH DOWN . . . in your hubby’s private jet and step out on his red-carpeted runway.
The tawdry tale of gold digging as sport won’t be fully told for another decade or so…’til these dabbling divas’ vocabulary fails to evolve past manicures, pedicures, texting and clubbing, and their men desire to discuss details other than shopping, shopping & more shopping.
When the clock winds down (and it will), we’ll be able to test the long term carat value -10, 14 or 24 carat, that is - of this sport known as Gold Digging for Athletes. Unless there’s some true burnishing going on and the players refine some nuggets within themselves, we might learn that Lamar and Reggie don't want to extend the game. . . in which case, “keeping up with the Kardashians” will be a short-lived sport after all.
Straight Talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
Friday, February 19, 2010
The "Olympic" Sport of Curling
While watching the Hammer Throw finals at the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympics, I never imagined my sports spectating standards could sink any lower . . . until I caught this week's comedic competition called Curling at the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics.
Maybe - just maybe - somebody could cajole me into believing that flinging a chain linked projectile resembling some medieval instrument of torture by a big burly boy named Boris from Belarus actually constitutes an Olympic sport.
But, I'm sorry, nobody is ever going to convince me that the skinny Norwegian glee club members clad in those ridiculous red, blue and white harlequin pants, and swooshing plastic kitchen brooms across an ice skating rink, are genuine Olympians!
Who on planet Earth, other than their mothers, would ever consider these swashbuckling, Broadway wannabes . . . Olympians?
Just how inebriated were IOC members when they sanctioned Curling as an Olympic sport? If Curling is an official Winter Olympic sport, could ice fishing, snowman building and snow angel making be very far behind? Word has it on the slushy, just-about-snowless British Columbian hills that, after watching this week's Curling competition on NBC, beer pongers and frisbee golfers are now petitioning the IOC for their sport's inclusion in the 2012 London Summer Olympics.
Is it just me or do you also view Curling as scandalously skirting the sanctity of sports by not requiring even the slightest semblance of athleticism?
Let's be honest. Have you ever heard anybody say, "I'm playing in a real competitive inner-city Curling league this season." Or, "Who will you pick as your Sweeper in next season's Fantasy Curling League?" Or, worse yet, "Let's run on over to Dick's Sporting Goods. I hear they just stocked their shelves with the latest Curling gear - and their Curling Broom assortment is awesome!"
Listen, as far as I'm concerned, any sport that rhymes with twirling can't be any good at all. So, enough of this nonsense! All this talk of Curling makes me think about hurling . . . my lunch.
Straight Talk. No Static.
MIKE - Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
Maybe - just maybe - somebody could cajole me into believing that flinging a chain linked projectile resembling some medieval instrument of torture by a big burly boy named Boris from Belarus actually constitutes an Olympic sport.
But, I'm sorry, nobody is ever going to convince me that the skinny Norwegian glee club members clad in those ridiculous red, blue and white harlequin pants, and swooshing plastic kitchen brooms across an ice skating rink, are genuine Olympians!
Who on planet Earth, other than their mothers, would ever consider these swashbuckling, Broadway wannabes . . . Olympians?
Just how inebriated were IOC members when they sanctioned Curling as an Olympic sport? If Curling is an official Winter Olympic sport, could ice fishing, snowman building and snow angel making be very far behind? Word has it on the slushy, just-about-snowless British Columbian hills that, after watching this week's Curling competition on NBC, beer pongers and frisbee golfers are now petitioning the IOC for their sport's inclusion in the 2012 London Summer Olympics.
Is it just me or do you also view Curling as scandalously skirting the sanctity of sports by not requiring even the slightest semblance of athleticism?
Let's be honest. Have you ever heard anybody say, "I'm playing in a real competitive inner-city Curling league this season." Or, "Who will you pick as your Sweeper in next season's Fantasy Curling League?" Or, worse yet, "Let's run on over to Dick's Sporting Goods. I hear they just stocked their shelves with the latest Curling gear - and their Curling Broom assortment is awesome!"
Listen, as far as I'm concerned, any sport that rhymes with twirling can't be any good at all. So, enough of this nonsense! All this talk of Curling makes me think about hurling . . . my lunch.
Straight Talk. No Static.
MIKE - Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
Monday, February 8, 2010
Let's NOT Be Fooled Again!
OK, football fans, let's NOT be fooled again........when the NFL announces that another by-gone generation of geriatric, gyrating rockers will be entertaining us during future Super Bowl halftime celebrations.
Expecting to see myself and feel myself mesmerized by rock luminaries Roger Daltrey and Peter Townshend during yesterday's highly anticipated football game intermission, I instead found myself traumatically touched - as if visiting ancient uncles in their South Florida retirement home - given the languished lyrics in their opening rendition of "Pinball Wizard."
As Daltrey sequed from his strained, off-key, slow motion intro into his second sluggish song, the clownishly striped coated old codger sounded more like a tired turtle trudging through the neighboring South Florida Everglades swamps than the iconic British vocalist of the late 60's and early 70's.
To compound an already discordant performance, Daltrey's next Greatest Hit was anything BUT. Who'd a thunk the aging Brit's 2010 vocal version of Baba O'Reilly would vex some viewers about as vilely as a Bill O'Reilly vociferation.
Moving onto the group's third song which seemed to stick around for hours, I embarrassingly broke out into my own chorus of "Who Are They?" rather than "Who Are You?" and simultaneously prayed for the New Orleans Saints and Indianapolis Colts to prematurely race back on the field.
Sadly, if not for the halftime show's pyrotechnic and laser lighting displays, 74,000 stunned Sun Life Stadium spectators and 100 million tepid television viewers may have abandoned these comical caricatures completely for an obligatory bathroom break.
So, football fans, when the NFL announces performers for its Super Bowl XLV halftime celebration, we all need to remember the lackluster lyrics that Sunday evening's fossilized British rockers recited while closing their Super Bowl XLIV halftime set........................let's NOT be fooled again.
Straight talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
Expecting to see myself and feel myself mesmerized by rock luminaries Roger Daltrey and Peter Townshend during yesterday's highly anticipated football game intermission, I instead found myself traumatically touched - as if visiting ancient uncles in their South Florida retirement home - given the languished lyrics in their opening rendition of "Pinball Wizard."
As Daltrey sequed from his strained, off-key, slow motion intro into his second sluggish song, the clownishly striped coated old codger sounded more like a tired turtle trudging through the neighboring South Florida Everglades swamps than the iconic British vocalist of the late 60's and early 70's.
To compound an already discordant performance, Daltrey's next Greatest Hit was anything BUT. Who'd a thunk the aging Brit's 2010 vocal version of Baba O'Reilly would vex some viewers about as vilely as a Bill O'Reilly vociferation.
Moving onto the group's third song which seemed to stick around for hours, I embarrassingly broke out into my own chorus of "Who Are They?" rather than "Who Are You?" and simultaneously prayed for the New Orleans Saints and Indianapolis Colts to prematurely race back on the field.
Sadly, if not for the halftime show's pyrotechnic and laser lighting displays, 74,000 stunned Sun Life Stadium spectators and 100 million tepid television viewers may have abandoned these comical caricatures completely for an obligatory bathroom break.
So, football fans, when the NFL announces performers for its Super Bowl XLV halftime celebration, we all need to remember the lackluster lyrics that Sunday evening's fossilized British rockers recited while closing their Super Bowl XLIV halftime set........................let's NOT be fooled again.
Straight talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Nike - Just (Can't) Do It!
Nike - the world's leading sports brand...just CAN'T do it!
Fire Tiger Woods, that is.
Earlier this week Sports Business Journal quoted Nike Chairman and Co-founder Phil Knight's carelessly casual comment concerning Woods' X-rated, extra-marital escapades. Knight said, "When Tiger's career is over, you'll look back on these indescretions as a minor blip, but the media is making a big deal out of it now."
Wow! What a hyprocritical swaggering of swoosh swirling from Nike's swanky Board Room!
For all his supposed moxie, corporate clout and sports world innovation, Knight is taking the coward's way out... proffering the company's support for the world's most celebrated athlete and serial adulterer . . . and hoping we'll continue to buy the millions of dollars of "Tiger-gear" still remaining in Nike's inventory.
Knight's irresponsible, insensitive and absurdly chauvinistic comment all but negates his company's corporate mission statement about fostering social responsibility.
Nike's decision is anything but socially responsible. To the contrary, by sticking with the foolishly philandering Woods, the sneaker giant made a mockery of the time honored social virtues of family, faithfulness and forthrightness.
What message is Nike sending to youth around the world? Hey Tiger Woods fans, keep over-paying for over-priced footware and apparel donned by our over-sexed golfing legend who overtly lied to fans, police, the Press and (sadly) his wife and young family.
Buy Adidas, Champion or Reebok instead.
Straight talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
Fire Tiger Woods, that is.
Earlier this week Sports Business Journal quoted Nike Chairman and Co-founder Phil Knight's carelessly casual comment concerning Woods' X-rated, extra-marital escapades. Knight said, "When Tiger's career is over, you'll look back on these indescretions as a minor blip, but the media is making a big deal out of it now."
Wow! What a hyprocritical swaggering of swoosh swirling from Nike's swanky Board Room!
For all his supposed moxie, corporate clout and sports world innovation, Knight is taking the coward's way out... proffering the company's support for the world's most celebrated athlete and serial adulterer . . . and hoping we'll continue to buy the millions of dollars of "Tiger-gear" still remaining in Nike's inventory.
Knight's irresponsible, insensitive and absurdly chauvinistic comment all but negates his company's corporate mission statement about fostering social responsibility.
Nike's decision is anything but socially responsible. To the contrary, by sticking with the foolishly philandering Woods, the sneaker giant made a mockery of the time honored social virtues of family, faithfulness and forthrightness.
What message is Nike sending to youth around the world? Hey Tiger Woods fans, keep over-paying for over-priced footware and apparel donned by our over-sexed golfing legend who overtly lied to fans, police, the Press and (sadly) his wife and young family.
Let's call a swoosh a swoosh. Because in this case, where so much money has been financed to fabricate a phony family friendly facade, Nike...the world's leading sports brand...just CAN'T do it! Fire Tiger Woods, that is!
We can all forgive Tiger if and when he's contrite, but let's never defend the arrogance of a corporate titan who summarizes serial adultery as a "minor blip".
Instead, make Nike a "minor blip" in your future sports apparel purchasing.Buy Adidas, Champion or Reebok instead.
Straight talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
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