The List: Sports, music and something I can’t make out
Now that the euphoria of National Signing Day has worn off, let’s focus on what’s really important — overweight beavers.
Shocked, are you? You see, it’s becoming a big problem all over this country. With the housing market in a slump — along with every other imaginable market — there are far more trees standing. Beavers have gone crazy and are eating at a record pace.
(Zoologist whispering in my ear). What do you mean beavers don’t actually eat trees? Water lilies?! What kind of craziness is that? Yeah, but … But they … I’m just saying … I just wanna … Fine … Seems I’m picking another topic. Here’s “The List.” Read it, and stop laughing at me.
Kurt Warner: Is he a Hall of Famer or not? I vote yes. He just doesn’t have the overall numbers to get in, that much I’m not debating. But he wins. He has played in three Super Bowls, won a Super Bowl MVP and has been named regular season MVP twice. And I find it ironic that of the three teams he has played with in the NFL, he has done all that as a member of the two with the sorriest histories. I don’t need to compare his stats with players of similar stature. And I won’t because I doubt certain other QBs who played on squads that could be called “America’s Teams” could have done what Warner did with such mediocre surrounding casts. The man amazes me when I watch him. He gets the best out of those surrounding him, and that makes him great.
Spring training: Nine days until pitchers and catchers report. I fee like a bull in a candy store; a kid in a china shop. Wait, that was wrong. Anyway, I’m excited. Here’s a list of teams I like right now: Boston. It was hard whittling the choices down, but in the end the Red Sox look like a winner. They better be, because kicking the Yankees in the proverbial ribs would feel really, really good this October. All the key players are back, and I hear they even signed a guy with the exact same name as John Smoltz. Crazy.
Adam “Pacman” Jones: He’s been a little too low-key lately, so I feel the need to say something really mean. So here goes: The new stimulus package has no, I repeat, no provision for strip clubs. It’s a sad day, I’m sure.
Bruce Springsteen: So, umm, you really felt like getting up close and personal with America on Super Bowl Sunday, huh? Wouldn’t you love to see a re-enactment on Saturday Night Live? Oh wait, you don’t have to wait … “America, step away from the guacamole dip. Put that chicken finger down! And cover the children’s eyes, because I’m about to slide across the stage, and my depth perception isn’t what it used to be! Tenth Avenue Freeze-out! Tenth Avenue Freeze-out! Patty, what did you do with my Bengay? Whoooo!”
Pro wrestling: It’s still fake! UFC is not fake, but it’s only slightly more entertaining. Boxing has turned into chess on steroids. So the moral of the story is start videotaping fights with your neighbors, put them on YouTube and hope some last-shot agent “discovers” you and makes you rich beyond your wildest dreams. It worked for me. Actually, it didn’t. That’s why I’m still here. Not that there’s anything wrong with being here. I’m just saying. Next!
Hand models: That’s right. People who get paid to hold stuff on TV. Ever notice how you see less of them? It’s sad. I really don’t have a point to make with this. I just don’t want to end this column with you thinking I’m some loser that failed to make it as an Internet sensation. Shoot! Did it again.