I think the rapper, T.I., should name his next album “Magnum T.I.” and the cover should be a picture of an extra large condom wrapper and a giant bottle of champagne. That seems like a really good “hip hop” idea.
Do any of you guys know T.I.? Feel free to pass my suggestion on to him. He can use it. All I need in return is a thank you. That’s just good manners.
Speaking of strip clubs, the corner of East 86th Street and 3rd Avenue in Manhattan smells like one now. It’s an alluring bouquet of vanilla, cotton candy and sadness. I’m pretty sure it’s coming from a new store that opened up on that corner, a place called Lush that sells “handmade natural cosmetics.”
Normally, I don’t mind that smell. I will admit that, in fact. it’s a smell I have looked forward to smelling at certain points in my life. But you know when none of those points in my life happened? At 10 o’clock the morning.
It’s really unpleasant when you’ve just left your house on the way to work on a Wednesday. It’s all encompassing and a little bit nauseating. It’s come to the point where I root for some hot garbage to be on the sidewalk in front of the store, so my walk to the subway smells like New York City in the morning , not Vegas at 3am.
Richard Deitsch talks about Ray Lewis’s transition from maniac linebacker/ justice obstructor to respected TV voice. As far as I can tell, that transition involves putting on glasses and a suit vest. Ray Lewis is like a reverse Clark Kent. Pardon the pun, but it’s been almost criminal that ESPN has not asked Lewis to weigh in on the Aaron Hernandez situation. Even if he’s not “ready for prime time” yet, he’s sat for enough interviews in his life to be able to answer questions.
Johnny On The Spot by Andy Staples
After I read this article I kind of realized Johnny Manziel is just a stupid douchey kid doing what stupid douchey kids do. It seems like he’s being criticized for not being Tim Tebow. Thank god he’s not Tim Tebow. No one wants another Tim Tebow. Today, something came out about Manziel selling autographs or something. I don’t care about that either.
Living Under The Gun by Austin Murphy
I guess every issue of Sports Illustrated moving forward is going to have an MMQB article. That’s fine, as long as they continue to be articles like this one, which focuses on the special teams players known as “Gunners.” It discussed a part of the game that I’m not really familiar with and shed new life on guys I don’t usually pay much attention to. So, mission accomplished.
Speaking of MMQB, Peter King included this in his column that came out today:
f. Peter Schrager, an all-around good dude and Fox Sports NFL maven, just got back from his honeymoon to Italy and Greece. Happy to report he is still happily married.
That’s a classy move.
The Road Taken by Luke Winn
Winn writes about the Graham brothers, from Durham, North Carolina. Together, they’ve played basketball at 1.2 million high schools and 6.7 billion colleges. Their mom was a teacher who became a hooker.
Stll Kickin it by Ben Reiter
A profile of Bronson Arroyo. Chris Russo used to call him Brandon Arroyo. Chris Russo also once called Braden Looper Brandon while he was interviewing him. Mad Dog loves the name Brandon.
The Last Days of ARod by S.L. Price
As I write this, I’m watching Alex Rodriguez play his first game of the season, after being handed a 211 game suspension. I fucking hate this guy. Price offers nothing new in his article, yet still manages to sum up all my own feelings about ARod almost exactly. It’s a perfect indictment of a scoundrel.
Point After by Inbee Park
This was refereshing. Park seems like a well adjusted young lady. She writes about her quest to win the PGA grand slam, but does it with a nice sense of humor and a nice perspective. I’m guessing she didn’t win whatever major was held this past weekend though. I feel like I would have heard about it if she did.