Sunday Funday: The Royal Rumble Wrasslin' Edition

In an unprecedented move, this will be the second weekend in a row that we here at Sports Casualties have worked a little overtime for you, the loyal reader. Call this the Gasparilla Hangover Effect.

In today’s edition of Sunday Funday, I will be previewing the biggest faux-sports event of the day, tonight’s WWE Royal Rumble pay-per-view. Tonight’s show features four title matches as a precursor to the premier match of the show, a 30-person over-the-top-rope-challenge called the Royal Rumble. The winner of the Royal Rumble gets a main event title match at the upcoming Wrestlemania pay-per-view.

Not unsimilar to last Sunday, I will be previewing each match, and destroying my objective wrestling writing abilitiy, if there is such a thing, by telling you what I want to happen and what I think will happen. Obviously, I am a run-of-the-mill white trash wrestling fan, so my predictions have no inside sources at all. I have no red phone in my apartment that connects directly to WWE creative offices in Stamford, Connecticut.

Let the party begin.

"Alright, can I move to a real show yet?"

ECW Champion Christian vs. Ezekiel Jackson, ECW Title Match

The build-up: Not too much of a build to this match. Jackson won the ECW Homecoming Battle Royale a couple of weeks ago to become the No. 1 Contender. Many are predicting the ECW brand to be scrapped after Wrestlemania and a title change here could signify that.

What I want to happen: Jackson wins the ECW strap. The title is nothing but a burden for Christian that keeps him from being free to go to a better show. For those who don’t know, Christian briefly spent time in rival company TNA Wrestling before returning to WWE about one year ago. His time relegated to ECW, the bastard child of Vince McMahon’s company, is said to be punishment for briefly flirting with the enemy.

What will happen: Christian wins and it is kind of understandable. ECW is probably being scrapped after Wrestlemania, not today. Igniting a little bit of a feud between Christian and Jackson is probably something that the company will look for to kill time until March.

Yes, she really dates The Undertaker.

Women’s Champion Michelle McCool vs. Mickie James, WWE Women’s Title Match

The build-up: One of the strangely longer lasting feuds on this card. This has basically consisted of McCool and her sidekick Layla calling James fat over and over again, and occasionally beating the living hell out of her. So far, McCool has almost completely had the upper hand.

What I want to happen: I honestly don’t really care too much either way here. The WWE Divas division is pretty irrelevant, and it’s even more irrelevant on a show that very few people watch. I guess a Mickie James win could bring an end to this feud which would be good.

What will happen: James wins the Women’s Championship.

"The Dead Man Lives"

WWE World Heavyweight Champion The Undertaker vs. Rey Mysterio, WWE Heavyweight Title Match

The build-up: Mysterio has overcome numerous brutal confrontations with former best friend Batista to become the No. 1 contender.

What I want to happen: I still think that a rematch of last year’s Shawn Michaels/Undertaker classic could be a good idea for Wrestlemania. However, I really think that the title has to be on the line to make it interesting unless they create another tremendous build. I’d like to see The Undertaker keep his title here.

What will happen: There is a very good chance that Mysterio wins here. It definitely would not hurt to freshen up the Heavyweight Title picture and a Mysterio win would certainly do that. C.M. Punk continues to be many people’s Rumble winner prediction, and a program between those two would make Smackdown interesting again.

A day in the world of large transluscent gingers.

WWE Champion Sheamus vs. Randy Orton, WWE Title Match

The build-up: An interesting match setting between two wrestlers that are both heels (storyline bad guys). Sheamus has literally gone from the minor leagues to champion over the course of about six months. This is Orton’s first title shot since Cena lost the belt.

What I want to happen: I think that tonight’s show should be used to make Ted DiBiase, Jr. the absolute star that he has the potential of being. I think that either begins with DiBiase interfering and costing Orton the title or with Orton winning the title and DiBiase winning the Rumble later in the night. I’m fine with either one.

What will happen: I have a hard time seeing Sheamus losing his title here. I could see this being some kind of a non-decisive ending, DQ or something else. This match is made to either set up a feud between Orton and one of his lackeys or to make Sheamus look much more legit in a longer than usual match. I could see Sheamus feuding with a Triple H-type figure in the time leading to Wrestlemania.

The 2010 Royal Rumble Match

The build-up: A number of great storylines going into this match. Let’s quickly review some of them: Shawn Michaels has to win the Rumble to get his desired re-match with The Undertaker. John Cena has pledged to win the Rumble and become champion again. C.M. Punk and his Straight-Edge Society want to win the Rumble as a chance to “take over” the company. Five entrants have not been announced. Rob Van Dam? Edge? Surprises are always expected.

What I want to happen: I think I already said it. Why not take this opportunity to make DiBiase huge? It probably will not happen, but it is worth a thought. I’d also like to see Edge return to ignite a feud with Chris Jericho that can lead to Wrestlemania.

What will happen: I think either John Cena or C.M. Punk win this. Cena never got real closure in his feud with Sheamus and it’s hard to imagine him going into a Mania without at least a title shot. It’s not ideal but it will show how willing the WWE is to take risks based on tonight’s show. Again, it’s hard to predict this thing because the precursor matches will completely change the complex of the show by the time the 30 Rumble participants are trotted out.

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday

-Bryan

"Obama State of the Union Address" and Other Google Trends: The Week in Review, Redux

"We see you, Sports Casualties. We see you."

This is part two in a two-part installment. Please click here to read Bryan Holt’s irreverent commentary on real sports and faux-sports. Or simply scroll down, lazy ass. No, I’m only kidding. Enjoy.

This week we begin with the big guns up in Washington. And since I’m out of Gilbert Arenas jokes, let’s talk about the prez.

On Wednesday night, President Obama addressed a joint Congress in the first of his annual State of the Union addresses. To the chagrin of a befuddled Mike Ditka, the president spoke for 71 minutes without touching once on the collective bargaining agreement, the potential for a 2011 strike, or plans to secure video game royalties for retired Union members.

Obama focused instead on getting the country back to work, calling for the creation of a comprehensive jobs bill only after highlighting recent successes in the anything-is-possible fight to combat unemployment:

New Bills hire Chan Gailey and recent Brewers acquisition Jim Edmonds.

With John Roberts and the rest of the Supreme Court justices prominently seated in the chamber’s front left rows, the president tore into the bench’s decision to overhaul campaign finance regulation.

“American elections shouldn’t be bankrolled by America’s most powerful interests, or worse, by foreign entities,” Obama said.

While Roberts and others remained stoic, justice Sam Alito was caught mouthing the words “not true.”

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jYLrxeaqTo&feature=related]

Moments later, Joe Biden was caught mouthing the words, “I haven’t seen a public undressing like this since Owens-Garcia.”

Some accused the president, who tossed the occasional bone to undeserving Republicans, of using his pulpit as a partisan instrument for political expediency. I agree.

To me, touting tax cuts to the Right when the country is $1.4 trillion in debt seems just as opportunistic as when Wolf Blitzer changed his name to The Situation (Room).

In response to President Obama’s speech, MSNBC’s Chris Matthews was so overjoyed that he tried to stick his foot in his mouth. This is what he said:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QMxVakssDdI]

You “forgot he was black tonight”? I didn’t. Not only was the president by far the coolest guy in the room, he reminded me that I haven’t seen an African American star surrounded by this many incompetent white men since Danny Granger’s Pacers came to town.

On the same night, but on the topic of health care, White House Senior Adviser Valerie Jarrett told MSNBC’s Rachel Maddow, “We’re on the two yard-line. Let’s not give up now.”

I can’t speak to the validity of this statement. I can only tell you that if Congress is really on the two-yard line with a health care package, LaDainian Tomlinson is going to throw a fit if he doesn’t get at least three chances to punch this baby in.

Wrapping up our Washington coverage, both the blogosphere and cable news stations were buzzing when news broke of a State of the Union drinking game making the “rounds” at college campuses.

Politically active students across the nation downed a shot and shouted “You tell the truth!” every time television cameras turned to Rep. Joe “You Lie!” Wilson (R-SC). I don’t know about you, but I think this is just the kind of initiative and youthful creativity we need to make our country great again.

"Bottoms up, Joe!"

Let’s talk sports.

Yankees hero Alex Rodriguez accepted the Baseball Writers’ postseason MVP award during an emotional ceremony in New York Saturday night. According to the Associated Press, A-Rod, who hit .365 with 6 home runs and 18 RBI during the playoffs, turned around his chaotic spring by returning to a simplified mantra: Gym, tan, laundry.

From the AP story: “’Postseason MVP award. Wow,’ Rodriguez said Saturday night. Pausing for effect, he added, ‘What’s next, the good guy award?’”

No, Alex, unfortunately backne and shrinking testicles.

In other steroid offender news, Baltimore Orioles owner Peter “The Inspiration for Fredo Corleone” Angelos inked free agent shortstop/ Mitchell Reporter Miguel Tejada to a 1-year, $6 million deal, greasing the skids for a Hugh Grant-Elizabeth Hurley reunion.

Talk about returning to the scene of the crime. Sports fans haven’t witnessed something this uncomfortable since Bill Romanowski last walked into a CVS.

A week after the formal negotiating deadline, a group chaired by Pittsburgh billionaire mogul Chuck Greenberg and Rangers President Nolan Ryan finally hammered out a deal Saturday to buy the Texas baseball franchise from owner Tom Hicks.

When asked what prompted Hicks’ aggressive attorneys to finally back off the asking price of $570 million, Ryan said, “Away. Away. Away. High and hard.”

The contentious talks dragged on longer than expected as Hicks’ lawyers tried to strong-arm Ryan and Co. despite steady counsel from the White Sox’ Robin Ventura advising otherwise.

"If you want blood, you got it."

Sticking with baseball, on Tuesday, Oakland GM Billy Beane signed free agent pitcher Ben Sheets and his reconstructed right elbow to a 1-year, $10 million contract plus incentives. The move was seen in scouting circles as a partial improvement over Beane’s last offseason when he set $10 million on fire.

In response to Beane’s initial overages, Sheets said in his press conference, “It got me excited and got me thinking about this place. I think we’ll do fantastic this year.”

NO. WAY. Dr. James Andrews was thinking the EXACT SAME THING.

Turning now to fabricated stories, Gators head coach Urban Meyer says he plans to coach his team’s spring practice. Like a typical male, however, Meyer did not apologize to Steve Addazio for leading him on or Chris Mortenson for wasting the best year of his life.

Raiders 80-year-old owner Al Davis announced this week that he will be retaining the services of his current head coach. Davis’ team is coming off a 5-11 season and hasn’t topped the five-win plateau since 2002. Still, whatever happens with the coaching situation, you gotta admire a really old guy for giving Cable a shot.

Not senile, crazy like a fox

On to financial news, top seed producer Monsanto released a promising quarterly report this week and reiterated the strength of its dividend. High seeds Nadal and Venus did not fair as well.

And in futbol, Real Madrid midfielder Christiano Ronaldo was suspended two games for punching Malaga’s Patrick Mtilliga in the nose during the 70th minute of a Jan. 19 La Liga match.

Still, it could’ve been much worse for one of the world’s top athletes. The last time a Ronaldo was grabbing American headlines, it was for an unfortunate nightclub incident involving transvestite prostitutes.

Welcome to Sports Casualties, soccer!

Bringing this puppy full-circle, No. 1-ranked Kentucky basketball fell to a 12-7 South Carolina team after President Obama encouraged the Wildcats by phone to “keep their focus” and “play with the same passion that brought them to the top.”

However, the loss was hardly surprising given how Congressional Democrats have responded to similar pleas.

On a personal note, I would like to relay a moving encounter I had while doing my laundry at a local ‘mat last Friday. Halfway through folding my clothes, a mother and her late-teenage son became transfixed by the Spike channel’s re-airing of Brock Lesnar-Randy Couture on the corner TV. They began nervously cheering for Couture, and I simply didn’t have the heart to break the news. I myself was transfixed – just a salt of the earth family bonding over a gladiatorial bloodsport.

Or, as Bryan Holt would call them, “My kinda people!”

I go in peace.

- Robbie

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CsaGvOwMUEU]

Holden Caulfield and Snowmobiles: An Unfocused Look at the Past Week in the World

 Because we can’t cover everything, and we don’t work weekends, each Friday, Sports Casualties’ two co-authors will write two seperate reviews of the past week. These startling pieces of immediate nostalgia will cover whatever topics the writers care to include. Consider this a wallet-sized picture that you can carry with you the entire weekend to hold yourself over until Monday when we will be back and better than ever.

Last week, Robbie Hilson officially made himself the Tim Russert of week recaps with his political take on Massachusetts. Today, I am just trying to take credit as a mere Brit Hume.

Tim Tebow has been in the news this week for reasons far seperated from football. Tebow is set to star alongside his mother in a Super Bowl commercial that is believed to carry a heavy pro-life message. I am very opionated on many things, but social politics are not included in that realm. The incoming commercial has ruffled the Birkenstocks of the left, leaving them screaming that the commercial is controversial and a disgrace to science. Now once again, I have little to no opinion on this issue. However, protesters should have a hard time listing controversy as the cause behind their fight when there are numerous erectile dysfunction and Plan B commercials dominating the advertising of NFL programming.

Watch out, Kiper. This is coming for you.

Tebow has also been a not-so-prominent name on the Mel Kiper circuit for his performances at Senior Bowl practices. Kiper has been making his daily news breaks over and over again that he has always been right, and Tebow will NEVER make it as an NFL quarterback. In the words of Robbie Hilson, “Vindication, Kiper! VINDICATION!” I’m not disagreeing with Kiper that Tebow currently has very unfavorable mechanics for the professional game. However, something about seeing Kiper stand up every day and say “I told you so!” like the overgrown 13-year-old girl that he is makes me want Tebow to somehow become Joe Monfreakingtana.

Not to stray too far away from political news, I watched about 35 minutes of the State of the Union Address on Wednesday night which I would assume is about 35 minutes more than any member of congress actually comprehended. The speech reminded me of a movie scene where the main character gets cornered by an angry mob and spends the next hour defending himself against all of the things that they are pissed about. Add about 565,987,452 phoney standing ovations and an angry female hyena in the background, and you have the 2010 State of the Union, an overwhelmingly defensive presentation.

Back to the far more important world of sports.

The woeful Nets used an inbound play designed by Don Franco, a self-described lifelong Nets fan, in a game against the Boston Celtics. The incident has become a divisive force in the Nets locker room where interim coach Kiki Vandeweghe has been trying to get the team to run the plays that he has designed for weeks.

The Winter X Games began on Thursday night. Yes, it is time for our bi-annual reminder that Sal Masekala is still employed by ESPN. Go Flying Tomato! The good fortunes of the United States rest on your every move…Okay, not really.

The Great Ginger Hope

Apparently Korean girl bands have a fascination with American football, and more specifically, the Iowa Hawkeyes. Some call this a coincidence, I call it proof that Kirk Ferentz is a proponent of global recruiting. The video really can’t be described in words. It has to be seen. Props to Deadspin for breaking this wonderful piece of Far-East culture.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TGbwL8kSpEk]

Stephon Marbury arrived in China this week to begin playing with his new team. One can only expect this to be a short-term deal that ends in disaster. Marbury didn’t like playing basketball in New York, but he’s supposed to be eager about his time in Taiyuan? I personally think that Starbury has finally taken his Chris Tucker fanhood a little too far.

J.D. Salinger died on Thursday at the age of 91. Salinger will be best remembered to the public as the author of American classic “The Catcher in the Rye.” Salinger’s story of Holden Caulfield continues to captivate audiences of all ages, and really changed the way that many books were written. Salinger fought against a film adaptation of the book for most of his life. However, with Salinger now gone, one can only assume that Hollywood “suits” everywhere will be fighting to acquire the script for a movie. I’m loooking at you, Eric Murphy.

AND NOW…(drum roll)

WHY I HAVE WRITER’S BLOCK: The Never-Ending Saga

In no specific order, and with no real explanation, this is my weekly look at some of the things that kept me distracted while I was trying to write.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u3gg3osK0lU]

The last few minutes of a phenomenal match. Wrestling fan? Watch the whole thing , you’ll enjoy it. Not a wrestling fan? Skip to 4:50 and become one.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hObBw7ZAWDo]

What to Watch on Television this Weekend

Because although we live in a country where we are free to watch whatever we want, deep down inside we still want people to tell us what to watch.

Winter X Games – All Weekend – ESPN/ESPN2/ABC

No matter how many times you see it, it’s enjoyable to watch guys do ridiculously dangerous things because they don’t want a “real job.” Backflips on snowmobiles, crazy spin thingies on snowboards, God bless Aspen.

Kansas vs. Kansas State – Saturday, 7 P.M. – ESPN

Great rivalry. Two very good teams. Every time that I have watched a game in Manhattan on television, it has seemed like the crowd was on top of the players. Very cool atmosphere. Great way to wind down your “Wow, I just drank way too much at Gasparilla today” evening.

WWE Royal Rumble – Sunday, 8 P.M. – Pay-Per-View

Yes, it’s wrestling, but the Royal Rumble is the best wrestling pay-per-view this side of Wrestlemania. This year features a solid undercard with Orton/Sheamus, Undertaker/Mysterio title matches. Of course, the main event is the show’s name-sake which features 30 wrestlers trying to be the last man standing to earn a main event title shot at Wrestlemania. Plenty of great storylines amongst the 30 wrestlers as well. Great setup by WWE.

Chowdown Countdown Finale – Sunday, 9 P.M. – Travel Channel

No, I’m not including the Pro Bowl because, quite honestly, that game bores me to tears. I’ll have an eye on it while viewing the Rumble at Primetime Sports Bar. However, if you do not care for wrestling or the cost of a pay-per-view, the thing to watch is the finale of Travel Channel’s addicting series “Chowdown Countdown.” If you haven’t seen it, you need to. The show is basically a roadtrip tour of the best “Mom and Pop”-style restaurants across the country. Great stuff.

Have a convivial weeekend.

-Bryan

Roundball Roundup

"Hey, Macarena"

I’d like to introduce this column by reciting half of Air Jordan’s most famous press conference. The Roundup is “ba-aack.”

Let’s start with the game that everybody and Mike Brown’s mother is still talking about.

When LeBron James and Dwyane Wade took to the hardwood of the Double-A on Tuesday, the Olympic teammates added another spectacular chapter to the league’s best rivalry between its biggest superstar and its most disgruntled. Separated by only 12 games in the standings, Cleveland and Miami traded baskets down the stretch in a game that some are comparing to the great Boston-New Jersey showdowns of the mid ‘80s.

Cleveland ultimately prevailed in a 92-91 squeaker when The King, who finished with 32 points on 9 of 23 shooting, stole an ill-advised, behind-the-back pass from D-“Magic” Wade with 4 seconds left, driving the length of the court and converting on two crucial free throws.

Besides living up to some of the more memorable late January classics, Tuesday’s showcase will probably be best remembered by a first half in which LeBron-Wade traded baskets like Jordan-Bird in a Micky D’s H-O-R-S-E commercial. Wade finished with 30 after two quarters and added another spectacular bucket after halftime. He finished with 32.

"So, uh, the beach later?"

On a note of similar importance, one unusual figure has begun to catch the eye of many a bewildered box score junky. That’s not a Chan Ho Park April batting average, sports fans. Nope, not a homeless man’s delinquent credit score. Jayson Williams’ blood-alcohol level?

Wrong again.

That’s an actual NBA winning percentage… On Wednesday, the New Jersey Nets won their fourth game of the season, spawning a new League slogan in the process:

“The NBA: Where Point Oh Nine Happens.”

It was an all-around great night for the Nets. The team raised its mark to 4-40, picked up its first win of the decade, snapped a 29-game losing streak to the Western Conference, and pulled to neck and neck with the Washington Generals in the race for a fictional playoff spot.

Through 44 games, only the ’93-’94 Dallas Mavericks, at 3-41, had a worse “start,” and New Jersey will have to play .13 ball the rest of the way if it wants to match the ’72-’73 Philly Sixers historic 9-win mark. Kiki Vandewheghe’s boys haven’t won a game since topping the Knicks in the second to last day of last year. Back then, oil was $75 a barrel, unemployment was over 10 percent and Congress’ health care bill was dead in the water.

Hey, Jersey! If you look at it that way, doesn’t seem that long ago!

"Things could be worse. I could have bad hair."

And poor Jay-Z. The guy hasn’t made an investment this bad since he signed Vanilla Ice to Def Jam. Mr. Roc-a-fella is strapped with minority ownership of a team that’s 28^th overall in attendance and only filling 71 percent of the IZOD’s seat capacity on any given night. I, for one, would not pay to watch the Nets if they moved to Brooklyn, changed their name to the Dodgers, and signed Jackie Robinson as a player coach.

Turning now to a demographic that doesn’t get a lot of love in the Roundup, white guy David Lee, who is pumping out 19 and 11 and shooting 55 percent from the field, found out Thursday that he will not be packing his bags for the All-Star extravaganza in Dallas despite 26 double doubles and at least 24 and 9 in five of his last seven. Lee would have been the first Knickerbocker to make the midseason showcase since Latrell “The Kids Gotta Eat” Sprewell and Allan Houston. Speaking of…

Instead, David will swing over to Houston to be the best man for his knot-tying best friend. The Knicks forward told ESPN’s Chris Sheridan earlier this week that he “wouldn’t be upset if he didn’t make [the All-Star game].”

No kidding.

Let’s see. Lee could’ve spent three days competing for chicks with the likes of LeBron, ‘Melo and KG, or show up as the tallest, richest guy at a party with a copious number of emotionally distraught UT grads wondering why they still haven’t found Mr. Right. Again I repeat, no kidding. Next weekend could be more epic for David than “Wedding Crashers” remade as a Spike Lee joint.

And with that, it’s time for this week’s edition of Streaking: Everybody’s Doin’ It!

The “In Underwear for Charity Run” Streak: Memphis. Chris Wallace has heard my pleas. His team is 8-2 in its last 10 and reeled off 11 in a row at home. Good thing the Grizz aren’t actually running around half naked – nobody wants to see Marc Gasol in anything less than the soaking, stench of a tank top he’s already wearing. 

The “Still Partially Clothed, But a Little Tipsy and It’s Getting Chilly” Streak: Cleveland. The perpetually hot Kingsmen are 18-3 at home, have ripped off 6 straight wins and built a comfortable 4.5 game lead on Boston. What’s more, as each scissor-free day passes, LeBron looks more and more like he might be letting his Chia-fro develop into a full-blown Dr. J Man-Fro. Prepare to have your life altered.

"I know. It's like three times bigger than the average heart."

The “Birthday Suit But, Hey, It’s Dark Outside” Streak: Denver, the hottest team in the league. They’ve won 9 of 10 to springboard to within 3.5 of the struggling Kobes, and have 2 straight wins without Carmelo, who’s nursing a bum left ankle. Kenyon “I Play High… Above the Rim” Martin has 12 double-doubles in his last 16 games, and Nene has notched double-digit scoring in eight straight, despite thinking he’s a soccer star.

The “Wild Wimbledon, Only Clothes Are These Painted Flags, ‘Lookout, Queen Mother!’” Streak: Kevin Durant. He’s scored 25 plus in 19 straight games, a phenomenal stretch that pails in glory only to his new nickname…

“Durantula.” Spectacular.

While Kevin enters a pantheon solely reserved for the likes of “The Admiral” and “Skywalker,” Boston forward Glen Davis has gone in the opposite direction, as he mulls a change to the, um, repetive “Uno Uno.” The switch seems a bit uninspired until you consider that he’s following the Spanish-numbered scheme of another Big Baby, and that his “Uno Uno” houses four syllables in its six letters.

That’s got to be a first. Moving on.

Guns don’t kill franchises. Trigger-happy two guards with bad knees and $111 million contracts kill franchises. David Stern has had enough with both, and proved it by suspending Gilbert Arenas and teammate Javaris Crittenon without pay for the duration of the seaon. The 14-30 Wizards, already lacking in firepower, now lose a guy who’s netting 23 points a game, as well as a player who threatened to shoot that guy in his bad knee.

Last Friday, Derrick Rose did this:[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OVo-1_GI5Qc]

(For those without YouTube capabilities: Rose ran the length of the floor and then basically used Goran Dragic as a human escalator. Monster throwdown.)

Before he comes down, I would just like to take this brief moment to address Bulls GM John Paxson and head coach Vinny Del Negro directly.

Gentlemen, on behalf of basketball fans everywhere, I’d like to formally announce that the demarcation point of Your Last Chance begins right here.

Vinny, great hair.

We’re tired of the teasing. Your “Baby” Bulls shave three times a day, the sack of bones and hair that is Joakim Noah is improbably gifting you with a double-d every night. Luol Deng – the man you wouldn’t trade for KOBE BRYANT – is back to his above average self. And now, as evidenced by the fact that he has his head stuck in the ceiling, we know for sure – we are one-hundred percent, unequivocally certain – that your star point guard’s right knee and ankle are fully recovered. You have no more excuses. That’ll be all.

This column is fading faster than the Celtics’ title hopes. I need a buzzer beater. Big ups to Timmy for 27 boards.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GM0RmAGMVXY&feature=related]

- Robbie

Yankees Leave Johnny Damon for Another Washed-Up Outfielder

The Yankees are leaving the bar with a brand new outfielder in their arms. Johnny Damon has only his future to ponder.

Earlier today, it was announced that the formerly relevant and past Devil Ray-great Randy Winn has agreed to a one-year, $2 million contract to play the barely existent outfield at New Yankee Stadium. His arrival basically guarantees the long-known departure of Johnny Damon.

While the move does manage to replace Damon with a semi-recognizable name, it does not exactly signify any form of a youth movement for the defending champs. Much like Damon, Winn is well past his prime, somebody that won’t exactly bring a day-to-day grind or a passionate exuberance to the Bronx. Winn will likely have the opportunity to bounce around from town to town on one-year deals for as long as he wants to stretch out his twilight playing career. New York is merely the first stop on the back of the Farewell Tour T-shirt.

Winn is a one-time all-star, an honor that he received in 2002 when he was the obligatory “we have to throw somebody from the Devil Rays into this thing” pick. During his five years in St. Petersburg, his most memorable feat was hitting an inside-the-park grand slam against the Yankees in 1999, something that hasn’t been done in the majors since. In about three seasons in Seattle, Winn had a decent run, but his short-lived career resurgence would come with the San Francisco Giants in 2005.

Over the last three years, Winn’s numbers and production have gone down faster than a Tiger Woods mistress on a Saturday night. His struggles in the National League apparently made him an incredibly attractive option for the Yankees. In a sporting world that can be quick to judge, it is not difficult to label either Damon or Winn as a has-been.

New York’s split with Damon has been more predictable than an episode of “Full House.” The story draws close parallels to that of Yankees third baseman and occasional-centaur Alex Rodriguez. Everybody knew that Rodriguez was cheating on his wife. Few assumed that he was cheating on his wife with a 50-year-old singer/actress/sketchy person. Okay, so Winn is only 35 years old, but that’s like 65 in athlete years.

For Damon, being a 36-year-old free agent is a lot like being Marisa Tomei’s middle-aged stripper character in “The Wrestler.” Sure, some intriguing options might approach you for some entertainment and a brief laugh. However, by the time spring training rolls around, you’re probably going to be stuck with the only client that has a legitimate interest in you: the 57-year-old, washed-up and beaten down, indy professional wrestler version of Mickey Rourke.

Johnny Damon

Damon has already said today that he is interested in playing for the Tampa Bay Rays because “They have a good team, and I feel like they can get back to the World Series.” Yes, because nothing says World Series like a lineup that features Pat “The K” Burrell and Johnny “The One-Armed Swinging Wonder” Damon. Nor do any of the fans/blue seats at Tropicana Field want to see Damon’s rubber band arm try to throw anyone out from a right field platoon. Unless of course he expects the Rays to drop everything they have and beg Carl Crawford to move to right field so that he can retain his old stomping grounds under the TBT Party Deck.

The Party Deck

I’m sure that Damon’s options will be heavily publicized in the following days. Here’s to hoping that one of those options is not hosting “WWE Raw” ever again.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bD5VapGUVN4]

Painfully Awkward to Watch

In the end, the Yankess have gotten rid of one formerly overrated player in favor of another formerly overrated player. Let the annoyingly knowledgeable Tim Kurkjian SportsCenter clips begin in 3…2…1.

-Bryan

Off Broadway Heroes: A Running Profile of Those Who Succeeded Below the Highest Level

The NFL is the beautiful side of the game of football.  It is a league that garners praise and popularity while turning the few who can excel in it into immortal figures. This is why we here at Sports Casualties find intrigue in the other side of the game. The aspect of the game that is played on a gravel back road, not a glistening main street.

This is the second piece in an occasional series that will profile professional football players who succeeded in a now defunct league only to never “make it” anywhere else. Fellow Sports Casualties writer Robbie Hilson referred to this series as a “Where are they now?” for players who were never anywhere in the first place. He is correct.

I have a confession to make.

When I first thought up this occasionally running profile, it was because of one player. One player came to mind when I thought of the master of the defunct professional football league. That man was Mario Bailey, the all-time reception leader in the history of NFL Europe, and a fixture in both the Arena Football League and the XFL. He did all of this without catching a single NFL pass.

Few men have made an entire career out of being nowhere, but that is exactly what Bailey accomplished. For that, we here at Sports Casualties acknowledge him. In the words of San Antonio State freshman fullback Tim Riggans: Cheers Mario Bailey!

Mario Bailey’s notable football career began at the University of Washington where he was a record-breaking star receiver on a national championship team. Bailey is noted as one of the greatest receivers in the history of Washington Huskies football, which says good things about him and rather mediocre things about the program. Regardless, he still holds the Huskies record for most receiving touchdowns in a season (18) and a career (30).

Bailey was a leader on the 1991 Huskies team that earned a share of the national championship with the Miami Hurricanes, an unfortunate incident that taught Sports Casualties co-author and bombastic Hurricanes enthusiast Robbie Hilson about the art of sharing at a young age. Fortunately for Hilson, 1991 was Bailey’s final season in Seattle, so this column will not mention the 1994 “Whammy in Miami.”

Bailey would be drafted by the Houston Oilers in 1992, but would see the NFL playing time of Stuart Scott and John Clayton combined. Like I said, Bailey never caught a pass on the Tagliabue streets of gold. In fact, his football career would go as inactive as Bill Clinton’s military service until 1995 when NFL Europa – better known to most as NFL Europe – was founded. The creation of NFL Europe was the football equivalent of winning the lottery and sleeping with Scarlett Johansson all in the same night for Bailey.

Seriously, Bailey went down as the Michael Jordan/Joe Montana/Wayne Freaking Gretzky of the NFL’s Cockney experiment. Said reliable-because-I-said-it-is source cheddarheads.co.uk, Bailey is “quite simply the best player the league has seen.” Cheddarheads handled describing Bailey’s extensive stats rather well, so I will avoid boring you with them here. The point is that he caught a lot of passes for a lot of touchdowns. He also went to four World Bowls, winning two of them. You know the World Bowl, the game that you used to sneakily watch until a female figure walked in and said “Wow, you really miss football that bad? This is pathetic.”

It is safe to say that, for as long as people remember that there was a football team in Frankfurt, Germany, Bailey will never have to pay for a Weizenbock beer at a German pub.

It should come as no surprise to most that my most clear memories of Bailey come from his brief time with a brief team (pauses for nostalgia). Yes, Bailey was a receiver on my beloved Orlando Rage, the infamous choke artists in the wildly chaotic league that was Vince McMahon’s XFL. It is difficult to find an “Off Broadway” stage more colorful or interesting than the XFL. Only in the XFL could a team list reddish-orange as their primary team color, and bring the stripper cheerleaders from “The Replacements” into real life. Who can forget the pregame “scramble” for possession or the “cameras in the cheerleader locker room” angle or Jim Ross and Brian Bosworth on commentary. I feel a new series coming on strong.

Oh, XFL. How sorely you are missed.

Unfortunately, Bailey did not live up to the potential that his NFL Europa time had promised during his stint with the Rage in the XFL’s inaugural and concluding season. Bailey could not break the shadow of team leading receiver Dialleo Burks, or as I like to call him, another “Off Broadway” column for another day. Bailey would finish the season with 27 catches for 379 yards and two touchdowns.

There was little desire for Bailey’s 5-foot-9-inch frame after his season with the Rage. Bailey would go on to a short career in the Arena Football League with the Detroit Fury, Milwaukee Mustangs and Dallas Desperados. His time in these places seem to have garnered the least amount of documentation compared to the rest of his career.

Bailey went on to become a football coach at Franklin High School in Seattle. However, he is no longer listed as being affiliated with the school.

-Bryan

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X0mc7tzMwOw]

Power Chords from the Power-I: The NFL by AC/DC

L to R: Malcolm, Cliff, Phil, Angus, Bon

In a nod to Saints’ RB Mike “Hell’s” Bell, I’ve decided to set the 2010 NFL playoffs to the lyrics of AC/DC’s 1977 album, “Let There Be Rock.” Each line says something about someone, so read “analysis” like you would “recipient.” If you finish reading this and think to yourself, “Wow, that just filled a hole that I didn’t even know needed filling,” well, than you’re just as sick as the writers at Sports Casualties. All kidding aside, if the NFL is going to push another over-the-hill rock band on us – I’m looking at you Halftime Show – this should be the one.

The Line: On the day I was born/ the rain fell down/ There was trouble brewin’ in my home town/ It was the seventh day and I was the seventh son/ And it scared the hell out of everyone

The Song: Bad Boy Boogie

The Analysis: A dude with a French name hasn’t put himself on the map like this since Napoleon was carving up Europe. Pierre Garcon’s used to having the deck stacked against him. He attended that football hotbed Mount Union, fell to 205th overall in the ’08 draft, has parents from the Haitian isle. Hell, the guy’s last name means “waiter.” Seriously. Pierre probably had no business making it in life, let alone the National Football League. Now he’s one of the go-to guys for the greatest quarterback of all-time and 60 minutes away from landing the biggest diamond ring you’ve ever seen. Like the rest of his Colts, Quatre-Vingt Cinq sticks it to every Ochocinco with head-down grittiness and quiet determination. His glue hands hauled in 47 balls during the regular season – up from four a year ago – and humiliated the rest of the Jets secondary on Sunday when Revis Island put the clamps on Reggie Wayne. You’ve never seen 11 catches in an AFC Championship game before. Nobody has. And now Garcon, who’s quickly becoming the Wayne to Wayne’s Harrison, has Sean Payton’s henchmen floating the yeah-but-what-abouts all through the off week.

He’s a source of pride for his family, his country, his other country and the small hometown from which he hails. Writes reader Sarika Joshi via Facebook: “He went to my high school. I’m pretty happy with his development. He’s putting Greenacres on the map!” Somebody get Hallmark on the phone. God bless America and God bless Pierre Garcon.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BObcKrcIfBQ]

The Line: Wanna tell you a story/ ’Bout a woman I know/ When it comes to lovin’/ Oh she steals the show/ She ain’t exactly pretty/ Ain’t exactly small/ Forty-two, thirty-nine, fifty-six/ You could say she’s got it all

The Song: Whole Lotta Rosie

The Analysis: Really, you shouldn’t even have to ask. They even have the same dimensions. Jets coach Rex Ryan and his scrappy team burst onto the playoff scene like that dirty uncle at the family reunion. Nobody thought they belonged, nobody bought into their crazy talk, and nobody – nobody – wanted to see them once they snuck in. Just ask the Bengals’ Marvin Lewis, the guy who has the taint of two straight Jet’s beatdowns smeared all over his Coach of the Year trophy. New York wasn’t the most sexy team in the playoffs – they got by on hard-nosed defense, a grind-it-out ground game and bunch of guys just trying to make a name for themselves – but once Gang Green grabbed your attention, you just couldn’t take your eyes off them. It’s really too bad “Big Balls” wasn’t on this album. I would’ve given it to Ryan for his gutsy fourth down call against San Diego. How great would that have been?

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQWJog7eYqY&feature=related]  

The Line: I am hot/ And when I’m not/ I’m cold as ice

The Song: Problem Child

The Analysis: This line was up for grabs like a JaMarcus Russell post pattern, but Tom Terrifics’s epic stink bomb (3.7 yards/attempt, 3 INT) of a performance against Baltimore sealed the deal for the NFL’s Comeback Player of the Year. Let me real off some numbers for you and see if you can find a common theme:

101.5, 74, 59.1, 149, 70.4, 49.1

If you said a) these are Tom Brady’s passer ratings in his final 6 games and b) there is no theme – in fact, I haven’t seen a splits like this since Two Face was in his prime, then you’d be correct on both counts. When Brady was on, he was inspiring comparisons to his record-setting ’07 campaign. When he was off… Let’s just say that Gisele hasn’t packed in the angel wings just yet. Just in case.

Brady should pass this off on his intramural league of a receiving corps, currently comprised of Sam Aiken, Jason Varitek and the decayed remains of Randy Moss. But Twelve, unlike his crankwad of a coach, is too classy for that. Plus, he doesn’t have the heart to tell the national media that just because Julian Edelman is a gritty, white guy doesn’t mean he’s the second coming of Ed McCaffrey.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nGIAl1-V7Jk]

The Line: Dead or Alive/ I got a .45/ And I never miss

The Song: Problem Child

The Analysis: Ray Lewis. No, no – only kidding, Ray. We kid because… we think you may have shot somebody. But seriously, we’re taking this one in metaphorical stride because that’s what Bon Scott and the Young brothers would’ve wanted (let’s just say that their “guns for hire” aren’t the Smith & Weston type if you catch my drift).

Cardinals QB Kurt Warner would probably swear off these 11 words – he’s a big fan of psalms and puppies – but they speak volumes about his up and down (and up) career. One of the most accurate passers in the history of the league, Warner capped off his Hall of Fame run with one of the great displays of accuracy and precision that the Packer’s defense has ever seen. Warner joined the ranks of Simms and Walton when he smoked Charles Woodson and Co. to the tune of 29-33, 379 yards and 5 TD in the first round.

Kurt couldn’t help the fact that his skull never quite cooperated with him or that his run at Miami was derailed by a Card’s D that gave up 90 points over two consecutive weeks. Still, even in his down years (remember that stint in New York?), Kurt was always on the mark – his career 93.9 passer rating would land him a solid A in any higher learning instistution. He’d probably really appreciate a commemorative Bible verse. He’ll get a debaucherous one-liner instead.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eY9H0s5sph0] 

The Line: Gee I was happy as a man could be/ To0 far gone to escape/ Power of love, don’t pull me off
/ Just write on my grave

The Song: Overdose

The Analysis: To the City of Brotherly Love: just because your team turns it on in November and December every single year, doesn’t mean you have a snowball’s (like the one’s you chucked at Santa) chance in hell to win a Super Bowl. The surging Eagles strung together 6 big wins from Nov. 22 to Christmas weekend, teasing their perennially embittered fan base like a tipsy Tri-Delt only to have their wings clipped off in midflight by their own coach. The Eagles are a cold weather team with an opportunist defense, an aging QB, and a young hoss in the backfield, and yet Andy Reid still shows absolutely no interest in running the football. If a power running game was a winning lotto ticket, Reid would glue it to a football and tell DeSean Jackson to go deep.

The Eagles, who finished 22^nd in the league in rushing, ran 13 times for 56 yards in their rematch against Dallas two weeks ago, and surprise of surprises, the Cowboys D teed off on D-McNabb, sacking him four times for 22 yards. Hmmm… 56 minus 22… Doing the math. That’s 34 net rushing yards. LeSean “The other ‘eSean” McCoy carried five times. Just write on my grave? How about “Death by Air.”

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=We9FD1UWiao]

The Line: And in every bar/ There was a super star/ With a seven-year itch.

The Song: Let There Be Rock

The Analysis: Three lines written for the long-suffering crazies on Bourbon Street who were no doubt partying to the wee hours of Monday morning after Saints kicker Garret “Ice Cold” Hartley erased 44 years of paper-bagged faces and rotating Heath Shulers. Running back Reggie Bush showed up in the New Orleans locker room the next day sporting a pair of Shugga Momma Kardashian’s jet black aviators and told The Monroe News-Star the following:

“These are my, ‘I’m-tired-because-I-just-got-to-bed-two-hours-ago-and-I’m-going-to-hide-my-eyes glasses.’ I’m pretty tired… But it was fun. Just seeing everybody in the streets screaming and honking their horns was great. I’m not sure that goes on in too many cities. It took an hour in traffic to get to the restaurant.”

Sure, some will be rooting against destiny’s child come Super Bowl Sunday, but these people are either Colts fans or puppy killers. You know about Katrina, you know about New Orleans’ love affair with their Saints, and deep down, you know you really want this team to win.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IsEHH0cDwHw]

The Line: See a blind man on the street/
Looking for something free/
Hear the kind man ask his friends/ “Hey, what’s in it for me?”

The Song: Dog Eat Dog

The Analysis: The staff at Sports Casualties has always abided by an overriding maxim: if you can take a shot at Phil Rivers, take a shot at Phil Rivers. Words to live by. But this time Wolfpack dodges a bullet at the expense of teammate LaDainian “From the One!” Tomlinson for another year of fowl sideline body language, sulky attention hogging, Vulcan death-gripping ball hogging, and every other kind of hogging. Darren Sproles, thank you very much, has had enough. Of Tomlinson’s 12 regular season TDs, 10 came from within the opponent’s six yard line, and six – SIX – came from less than five feet out. LT couldn’t find a 20-yard run if it came up to him and said, “Hi, I’m 20-Yard Run. Nice to meet you.” And against the Jets two weeks ago he notched 24 yards on 12 carries. Hey. But he had a three-yard reception.

Look, no one can deny that this guy is one of the all-time greats (if you, like me, measure greatness in regular season yards from scrimmage), and I would cut Tomlinson some major slack here if he wasn’t such a me-first cat who said things like this:

“I wasn’t happy. No one is going to be happy with the least amount of touches in my career. I don’t know any running back that would be happy with that. Absolutely I wasn’t happy with not touching the ball as much as I thought I would.” (as reported by NFL.com’s Adam Rank)

“Hey, what’s in it for me?” That’s LT for you, and unfortunately for the Chargers, the answer is a cool $5 million in 2010 for a 31-year-old running back.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uh9g2PVTc_s]

The Line: Done took to drinkin’ whiskey

The Song: Go Down

The Analysis: Because I wanted to include every song on the album and because Sports Casualties is entertainment for the whole family, we’re cutting out the goods and dedicating this succinct Bon Scott lyric to all our friends over at the NFL’s party planning committee. Just when I think we’ve reached a divine threshold for uncomfortable halftime performances, Roger Goodell’s media arm goes out an gets us an act with a combined 129 years of living experience. And there’s only 2 guys left in the band! Look I’m a big a fan of The Who… of 1965. But by my enlightened count, Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend hit their collective peak some 39 years ago with “Who’s Next,” and, um, two other bandmates that are no longer with us (OD and old age, in case you were wondering). I, for one, have “done took to drinkin’ whiskey” at the very thought of Geriatric Who. Just tell me somebody’s thought of the (Saint’s slogan) “Who Dat?” angle. Please, for the sake of high comedy, tell me somebody is onto this.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8t7e_TKzrYc&feature=PlayList&p=B16B19D5F5577812&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=37]

The Line: Disillusions and confusion/ Make me want to cry/ All the same, you lead your games/ Tellin’ me your lies

The Song: Hell Ain’t A Bad Place To Be

The Analysis: To all the heart-warming storylines and potentially historic scenarios: damn you for stringing me along like this. Nevermind the euphorically apocalyptic, universe-imploding possibilities: particularly a Green Bay-Minnesota showdown or a Norv Turner-Wade Phillips Battle of the Wits.  We knew these were long shots at best. But just three days ago, I had my heart set on Vikes-Jets and all the glorious narratives said matchup entailed. You had the underdog plots and the tormented fan bases. You had the Rize of Sanchize and the 40-Year-Old Version. You had Sexy Rexy, and Shonn “Correct Spelling” Greene. You had the Revis Island. The state of Wisconsin. Four’s New York ties. The hopes and dreams of Kiln, Mississippi. And the rug pulled out from under you for being so naïve. Remember that Holy Night you caught your pops in a red fat suit and fake beard? This is a thousand times worse.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77TOYSiIoMI]

The Line: There ought to be a whole lot more/ You get nothing for nothing/ Tell me who can you trust

The Song: If You Want Blood (You Got It)

The Album: Highway to Hell, 1979

The Analysis: The answer to this question is not “Brett Favre with two minutes left.” Let me give some background for this bonus bit. The year is 1979 – two full years removed from “Let There Be Rock” – and our Australian metal gods are about to break it big. Really, really big. Like Super Bowl big. The band released “Back in Black” a year later and became the AC/DC that you know today – the one on t-shirts, the one filling stadiums, the one that perhaps never reached its full potential. You see, the group would lose Bon Scott – its original singer, the “old guy” if you will – in early 1980 because he just couldn’t help himself. Done in by years of hard living and bad decisions, the frontman finally made a mistake that cost him it all. He should’ve had a whole lot more… I hope you see where I’m going with this. Come two Sundays from now, we’re all going to tease ourselves into thinking that Colts-Saints is as good as it gets. But really, it’s just all we have left, the only game in town. Brett came a long way, but his 40-year-old legs couldn’t outrun a gunslinger’s mentality or his penchant for self-destruction. In the end, Number Four got nothing for nothing. It’s a real shame.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=16la1h3gUxY]

To Brees, Manning, the city of New Orleans, the ghost of Johnny U and all those that continue on: Sports Casualties salutes you.

- Robbie

Crushing Virginia's Dreams

You remember Virginia.

In September of 1897, 8-year-old Virginia O’Hanlon wrote into the New York Sun in a desperate plea to find out whether or not Santa Claus is real. Virginia, now a 121-year old die-hard Brett Favre fan and loyal Sports Casualties reader, wrote a similar letter to your esteemed co-authors late Sunday night. It seems that Virginia was once again in doubt about the man that she searched for 113 years before. My answer was not nearly so uplifting as the one that Francis Pharcellus Church once famously worded.

VIRGINIA, the optimism that has led you through the last 113 years has finally failed you. During your life you have seen the good guys win, the hungry prevail and heroes finish at an iconic peak. Those times are long gone.

VIRGINIA, there is no Santa Claus. The evidence was as clear as ever on Sunday. If there was a Santa Claus, Brett Favre would have received the Elway-esque farewell that he has been begging for over the last several years. If there was a Santa Claus, the loveable Vikings would be six fumbles lighter and on their way to Miami. If there was a Santa Claus, the rough and passionate Jets would have prevailed over the team that threw preseason efforts at their fans over the conclusion of a regular season.

While the humbling news of Kringle’s absence may be bad, I have even worse news VIRGINIA, terrible news.

There is a Grinch.

Yes, if you’ve watched football lately you’ve seen him. Remember that Arizona team that was so fun to watch VIRGINIA? The Cardinals were a team that shocked the 2008 NFL season. They played with the excitement of a college team even though they were led by a senior citizen quarterback. But then came Santonio Holmes. Yes, just when you thought the Super Bowl would have a fairy tale ending, “thy who carries the sweaty yellow towel” swooped in and stole it just like they had done five times before. The bad guys won. To steal a line from “Friday Night Lights,” the rest is “babies and memories.”

Briefly, it seemed so beautiful.

The Grinch knows many faces. This season he was seen in the prepubescent face of Garrett Hartley and the long sold-out face of Peyton Manning, who I affectionately refer to here as Goober. Yes, VIRGINIA there is a Grinch. He struck last year, he struck this year and he’ll be back next year.

Mr. Church compared Santa Claus to fairies. Today, I am here to compare Santa Claus to a crippled Brett Favre limping off the field after a sixteenth brutal hit, his wife Deanna looking on in distress (Santa could have atleast thrown his daughter Brittany in the stands). His dreams were crushed, the biggest possible Feb. 7 storyline destroyed.

For as long as there are sports heroes, there will be villains to triumph in a painful storm over those heroes.

No, VIRGINIA, there is no Santa Claus. Not this season, not next season, not ever. Now suck it up and get ready for spring training.

-Bryan

Football on Demand: Saints-Vikings Game Log

Old Dog, Old Trick

The following is a historical account of what it’s like to have your heart ripped out of your chest in real time. As Bryan Holt might say, “I hate New Orleans and I hate Kanye West.”

Jim Caldwell is in the Super Bowl, everybody! 

Vikes-Saints. Save me, Brett.

First Quarter

15:00: In a clutch pre-game interview, sideline reporter Pam Oliver asks Saints head coach Shaun Payton what it will take for his team to win. Payton says win the turnover battle. I’m sorry, we were looking for “Score more points.” In other pregame news, the Saints paraded out American Idol winner Kris Allen to sing the national anthem. Bad move. Are you telling me they couldn’t find some doo-wop street corner singers/Katrina victims and bang out the Star Bangled Banner with a dose of saxophone? Would’ve been deafening.

9:35: Let me recap the Viking’s masterful first drive for you. Seven pass plays – six completed – a sneaky, 8-yard up-the-gut run from Percy “What Headache?” Harvin, and a 19-yard TD run on an All-Day Peterson draw play when the Saints linebackers were looking for pass. They call these things “clinical.” No truth to the rumor that Mike Leach replaced Brad Childress as the Minnesota shot caller. In fact, Childress is the guy that looks like he locked someone in his closet. 7-0, Vikings.

 6:30: The Battle of the Pierres is in full swing. Pierre Thomas makes a Bush-like cut up the sidelines, turning a little dump pass into a 38-yard TD. Earlier today, the Colts’ Garcon caught an AFC Championship record 11 balls for 151 yards in the biggest coming out party since Cruise in “Risky Business.” One more time America: “Thomas! Garcon! It’s the French Connection on CBS!” The network heads are licking their chops. 7-7, Saints.

5:27: Saints D-end Bobby McCray de-cleats his second quarterback in two weeks. This time Favre gets up.  Three plays later, Darren “No Hard Feelings, We’re Boyz Brett” Sharper clocks the Minnesota QB again.

2:11: Out of the shotgun formation, Favre connects with Sydney Rice for 5 yards and a Minnesota touchdown. The Vikes O-line looks like a cross between Swiss cheese and a hula hoop, but Favre is in Sly Stallone Mode circa “Rocky III.” The guy just keeps getting up. 14-7, Vikings.

Saints: the Clubber Lang in this equation

Second Quarter

15:00: The DVR just went into catatonic shock. I’ve inexplicably jumped into live time, bypassing five prime minutes of commercial skipping action. Go to hell, Cox.

14:01: Apparently it’s 102 decibels in the Super Dome, but I have no idea what this means. What does my alarm clock pull? Fifty decibels? A thousand decibels? One second… (*Googling*) The internets say we’re 61 dB away from glass breaking, problematic since Greg Oden is on the Saints sideline.

13:21: Saints tight end Jeremy Shockey lines up nose to nose with Minnesota DE Jared Allen. When’s the last time two people with this much hair squared off against each other? Or rather, when’s the last time Joaquin Phoenix squared off against anyone?

10:30: Drew Brees finds wideout Devery Henderson for 9 yards in the corner of the end zone on a broken play. Touchdown, Saints. 14-14. This feels like it could it be one of those “last possession” type shootouts. And I’m just telling you right now that if Jay Feely ruins this game for me, I’m throwing my laptop through a window.

Jay "Wide...You Pick. Right or Left. It Doesn't Matter" Feely

6:19: Minnesota pretty boy punter Chris Kluwe looks like he just got out of Mouseketeers practice when Fox flashes his profile on the screen. Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Kris Allen sneaks in for a fake punt?

4:15: Deanna Favre sighting. And she’s got a friend. I, for one, am a huge fan of the entire Favre family. Any chance of Brett adopting Wes Welker’s girlfriend?

3:17: Jeremy Shockey comes up like Eight Belles (too soon?) after an 8 yard completion. The hobbled Saints tight end yanks himself from the game. Last week, Moose Johnston and Tony Siragusa had Shockey pegged at between 50 and 80 percent. Now Shockey’s got a deep knee bruise and a broken toe. I’d say he’s about 40 decibels.

1:44: Saints linebacker Jonathan Vilma shoots up the sideline and levels Adrian Peterson. Eric Crouch is at a used car dealership spazzing into violent flashbacks of the 2002 Rose Bowl. In case you weren’t sure, Vilma went to The “U.” 14-14.

1:13: You cannot advance a muffed punt. The ground can’t cause the fumble. And Reggie Bush can’t seem to capitalize on any of his considerable talents. Kim Kardashian’s leading man flubs the Kluwe punt. And while Kluwe is signing a contract with Lou Pearlman, Bush is making a face I haven’t seen since his ill-advised I’m-just-gonna-chuck-it-over-my-head-and-see-what-happens ’06 Rose Bowl moment. Two Rose Bowl references down, only 93 to go.

1:00: The Vikings Peterson coughs it up inside the Saints 10. Bush looks like a booster just bought him a car. Still 14-14.

12:56: After a 61-yard kickoff return by Courtney “I Once Rocked a Mohawk” Roby and a “The Other” Dave Thomas reception, Pierre Thomas does his pounding dirty work, polishing off the touchdown drive with three punishing runs. 21-14, Saints, as France debates where its Super Bowl allegiance lies.

8:20: Visanthe Shiancoe caches three 20-plus yard darts from a suddenly pistol-whipping Favre. Shiancoe caught the last one inside the five with three fingers. I’d say he’s the Vikings’ Mordecai Brown. And if we ever have an all-time team for black guys who have the names of Siberian warlords, I think we’ve found our tight end.

7:35: AP pounds it in from the two after getting his hands wrapped in Velcro on the sidelines. We’re 22 minutes away from a Favre Super Bowl. My keyboard is shaking, and not from the caffeine. 21-21.

5:38: Joe Buck: “Adrian Peterson lost it again!” Not only that, this time he chucked it forward 10 yards. You’ve heard of “projectile vomiting”? That was a “projectile fumble.” Miraculously, still Vikes’ ball. Chester Taylor, your move. Still all square.

Adrian Peterson with Hot Potato in Hand

3:37: Saints DT Anthony Hargrove pile-drives the Minnesota quarterback a la Bill Goldberg, and two plays later the rest of the Saints D-line looks like they might have finished the deal. Favre’s left leg collapses in a heap of twisted limbs as Vilma picks off a low-flying duck. Brett hobbles off the field with the help of the Vikes’ training staff, lifts up his shirt and proceeds to show all of America the cyborg living underneath him.

Fourth Quarter

14:10: Saints tackle Remi Ayodele (great name) scoops up Percy Harvin’s second fumble of the drive. It’s really not fair that the Saints get to play offense with a football and Minnesota is stuck with Flubber. Drew Brees connects with Bush three plays later on a little four-yard out. 28-21, Saints as Hell begins to ice over.

12:39: A Bryan Holt text message I just opened after a feverish bout of typing: “That was the most brutal spear I’ve seen since Goldberg was WCW Heavyweight Champion.” Great minds, people. Great minds.

11:05: Favre connects with Bernard Berrian for 30 yards on third and long. Berrian, who has 7 big catches for 83 yards today, had me thinking that he’d played possum the entire season just to so he could surprise the Saints during the biggest game of the year. He then fumbled on his very next reception confirming that, no, he just sucks. Saints ball as Vikings cough up football number six. Somebody get these guys some Robitussin. This is embarrassing. Saints ball. 28-21.

7:50: Adrian “Fumble All Day” Peterson picks up four on a delayed handoff. Amazingly, still Vikings ball.

7:00: Favre finds Shiancoe on a crucial third and six after the massive target abuses Roman Harper off the ball and then finishes him off with a stiff arm after the catch. Shiancoe then turned to the Saints bench and yelled, “ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?” and flung his sword in disgust.

4:58: After a “We Really Want Brett in the Super Bowl” pass interference call at the Saints goal line, Peterson follows big Phil Loadholt into the end zone a couple plays later on two-yard run. Two yards? I like when you can measure the length of a run in Harvin fumbles. Inexplicably, 28-28, as the football gods look down on Favre and say, “You are my child.”

3:11: Brees rifles a 16-yard strike to Henderson who comes up just six feet short on third and a mile. No more jokes at this point. I’m nervous as hell.

Spoiler Alert

2:27: How is Minnesota still in this game? “Because of the turnovers by Arizona,” says walking concussion Troy Aikman. Ok, one more joke.

1:52: The Vikings are still feeding Adrian Peterson, swatting at a hornets nest, and sticking their fingers in an electrical socket, you know, just to see what happens.

1:42: Favre throws an 8-yard strike to Berrian who jukes out a defender and picks up a first down on the biggest play/third down of the game. Says Berrian after the catch, “Vindication, Hilson! VINDICATION!” Favre again. Frozen rope to Syd Rice up the seam for 20. Then Chester “Not Adrian Peterson” Taylor rips off 14. Minnesota reaches the Saints 36 as kicker Ryan Longwell pulls a brick out of his pants.

:07: Bryan via text: “Vintage Favre.” It’s a gene. It has to be. Number Four, flushed out of the pocket, flings a limp biscuit across his body. Interception, Tracy Porter. Neither of these teams is in control anymore. This is just a giant clash of failed histories and gridiron destiny.

A hero shows his true colors

Overtime

15:00: Shaun Payton elects to put Pierre Thomas – who fielded one kick all regular season – back on the return. Good move. Thomas finds a gaping hole for 40.

13:12: Brees finds Henderson on third and 10 from the Saints 48, but Henderson juggles the ball and comes up a foot short. Crucial review coming… Quick question: did anybody catch that Colts fan with the “D-Fence” sign? It didn’t have the little picket fence, it just said “D-Fence?” These are the things that delight me to no end. Oh, and Pierre Thomas may or may not have converted a 4 and 1. Review pending… First down, Saints.

11:50: Vikings linebacker Been Leber, the gentleman that he is, does not lay a hand on TE Dave Thomas. And yet he’s flagged for pass interference anyway. Leber’s heated. He swallows Reggie Bush on an ill-advised sweep. I’m still writing. That means it’s still tied.

10:24: If I said the combined over/under of fumbles + INT + reviews was 14, would you have taken the over? Saints field goal attempt coming.

10:19: I’m trying to say something that will adequately convey the magnitude of this moment, but words are failing. Garret “Ice Cold” Hartley bangs home a 40-yard field goal sending the Super Dome into a euphoric bender. I feel sick. Not as sick as Brett Favre. But sick. 31-28, as I run for the Pepto-Bismol.

- Robbie

Sunday Solutions: Brought to You in Part by Common Sense

"WE REALLY SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THIS!"

Like the other writers at Sports Casualties, I opted to forego my day off to impart another stroke of genius. You know what they say, “Great minds have nothing to do.”

As we all prepare for an afternoon of unbridled joy and/or weeping and gnashing of teeth, I’d like to take a few moments and pull a Reverse Selig, I mean “permanently fix a professional all-star game.”

Yes, I’m talking about making the most irrelevant sporting event God ever put on this earth a riveting showcase for old and young alike.

And no, I’m talking about The Skins Game.

Sports Casualties co-author Bryan Holt casually mentioned repairing the Pro Bowl in the days leading up to his Week in Review column, but was apparently Randy Coutured. Sorry – the words aren’t coming this morning – “Sidetracked by Brock Lesnar.”

So let me pick up where he left off. Here’s the idea: we hold the Scouting Combine in the off-week between the conference title games and Super Bowl Sunday.

Then, and here’s where it gets juicy, we replace all of the prima donna I-don’t-want-to-break-a-nail no-shows and guys with Super Bowl priorities with college football’s crème de la crème. (Pierre Garcon gave me that last line. Thanks, P!)

Now I what you’re thinking, Third Person Disembodied Voice: “That’ll never fly – the potential for injury is just too big. Why would Ndomukang Suh want to mess with a sure thing?”

He wouldn’t. So the NFL gives Todd McShay some real, tangible influence by allowing the top 15 guys on his draft board to decide for themselves – with family, coaches, NFL scouts, etc. – whether or not it’s a good idea to play.

Everybody outside of the McShay Zone is fair game for NFL scouts and Pro Bowl coaches to pluck from pro days and pre-draft workouts and stick on the field against the monsters of the midway.

If you’re still following along, you’ve just realized that this solves a myriad of problems for every GM who’s thought to himself, “You know he dominated the Big Ten and he’s a man-child in the cone drills, but how would he do against Julius Peppers?”

You think this wouldn’t have been advantageous for the hotshot who drafted Robert Gallery?

"I should have been a lumberjack, not the No. 2 overall pick."

Everybody in a leadership role within the League would love the college kid wrinkle because it allows for more thorough investment analysis (I’m feeling a Goldman Sachs sponsorship coming on). Franchises sink so much into top prospects, they can’t afford to be wrong.

Still not sure about that 5-foot-9 corner from East Tennessee who just broke 4.3 in the 40? Hey, line him up against Andre Johnson!

Have questions about Tebow’s release? Plant him behind Nick Mangold for a couple series! Hell, then stick him at split end for the rest of the game.

Of course, you can’t force a college kid to play. And if he wants to bypass a shot at vaulting himself from late first day into the top 10 and setting himself and his family up for life, I say godspeed to him.

“Oh, but what makes you think these players will actually give a damn? Most of them have been glued to a couch for a month. You’re still going to wind up with half-hearted blitzes, lackadaisical route-running and an NBA-like “where-are-we-all-going-for-dinner-after-the-game” Boyz Environment.”

Wrong again, Disembodied Voice.

And this brings us to the crux of the whole college-pro wrinkle: guys actually try for once.

Respected stars don’t want to burn their fans by sitting out of the game, but they don’t want to get embarrassed by an over-eager 21-year-old who’s yet to play a professional down either. Some guys will inevitably opt out because of hokey injuries and “prior commitments” – crucial to make room for the prospects – but the pride factor will be too big for most of the pros, especially for the older dudes who want to show the young pups a thing or two.

"I dodged a bullet."

For the college guys, this is the thrill of their young lives. They’re not taking a day off between the bowl season and the start of the combine. They’re saying no to seconds at the post-season awards ceremonies. They’re in the best shape of their lives, and they’re ready to put themselves on the map against the best athletes in the world.

Most of them would do it for free. But now there’s an ungodly amount of money on the line.

Ideally, the NFL Network would broadcast the whole kit ‘n caboodle for free in one of those semi-dickish “we’re only doing this so you can see what you’re missing” HBO-trial-week moves, and why wouldn’t they? This is gold, Jerry! Ratings gold.

Not only do you pull in every draft buff and the entire fantasy football community, but now you glue to the screen every hardcore college football fan base and every pro football fan base looking for a savior to turn around its franchise.

Are you telling me that there’s a Gators and/or Jaguars fan with a cable connection that wouldn’t tune it to watch Tim Tebow start for the AFC in the Pro Bowl?

YOU CAN NOT BE SERIOUS!??

That was a little strong, John McEnroe. But thanks for weighing in.

Unfortunately, we’ll have to keep the game in the Super Bowl city to avoid a David Stern-synthetic basketball situation in which the guys upstairs spin a epic 180 and everyone gets egg on their face. Which means this whole thing could end up going down in Detroit or Kansas City.

But look. It’s a glorified East-West Shrine Game, a ratings bonanza for the NFL and Mel Kiper’s wet dream.

Plus, you’d get heart-warming sideline moments like this:

Peyton Manning: “Arrelious, you’re coming out of your breaks too early. Watch Reggie do it… Now your learning Arrelious (*ass-slap*)!”

That’s great TV, folks. Just great television.

We’re officially late for Jets-Colts. Screw it. Come on down, royalties!

- Copyright, Robbie (2010, unless Bryan thought of it first)