CRYING LITTLE BABIES

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by Doctor Diz

FORT WORTH, TEXAS – One of the things I’ve always liked about rugby is that it is full-out. No pretense, no excuses. Rugby players go from whistle to whistle, no-holds-barred. This includes games that are out of hand. It’s not unusual to see a rugby team up by a large amount with only a minute or two left on the clock, and still pound away to get another score. That’s just the way it is; play full out during the time you are on the field. Shake hands after.

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Unfortunately, that ethos does not seem to be in vogue in other sports, especially at the professional levels. NBA and NHL teams routinely sleep walk through the last couple of minutes of a blow-out. And, apparently, in the NFL some people consider it poor form to score upon the downtrodden.

Dallas linebacker Keith Brooking said this about the Vikings going for a last touchdown in the 34-3 can of whup ass they opened up on his Cowboys:

“I thought it was classless. I thought it was B.S… Granted, we get paid to stop them, but we had zero timeouts left. I didn’t think there was any call for that.”

Well, he’s right about one thing – they do get paid to stop them. And they failed. Badly. Brooking’s comment did exhibit some – shall we say – chutzpa. After all, the Cowboys similarly demolished a Philadelphia team just the week before…so there is a bit of the pot calling the kettle black. And this is the Cowboys. The “classy” organization that brought us cheerleaders dressed like pole dancers, is coached by Wade “Gimme Another Donut” Phillips and led by America’s leading purveyor of cosmetic surgery that ain’t working, Jerry “Chicken Neck” Jones (see Jones, Jerry; Wikipedia, prince of darkness, Satan’s acolyte).

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Give him some Gerber Strained Carrots and get him outta here.

Speaking of outta here, another whiny toddler last week admitted that he (gasp) used steroids during his career. Mark McGwire was crying like a wittle, wittle ol’ bitty baby when he admitted his ‘roid use.

Awww… Poor thing. A big, overgrown, muscle-bound baby with a huge ass head. Don’t ya feel so sorry for him? I feel so sorry that I think we should acknowledge his pain, and negate the so-called season record he holds, along with those of all his fellow juicers. Amend the record books to reflect 61 HRs as the season record by Roger Maris of the ’61 Yanks. This will help to ease the great guilt and stress that these boys are feeling, by acknowledging their regret, shame and remorse and giving them a way to make amends for such. Hall of Fame??? More like Hall of Shame.

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A big, shiny pacifer also goes to Milton Bradley. Uncle Milty has obviously never read How to Make Fiends and Influence People and has burned more bridges than Napoleon’s army did during their retreat from Russia. All he did was make the Cubs another example of how big market teams can fail. Better still, seems Bradley skipped out on his lease agreement for the Chicago apartment he rented. Yep. A guy who made over $40,000 per game in 2009 stiffed his landlord for about $44,000 in his lease payments.

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This bright cherub must think that spending time on the disabled list makes him invisible to creditors since it he sure seemed to disappear for fans of the Cubbies last year when they needed run production. Wonder if he’ll be Sleepless In Seattle from colic? He’s the kind of guy who’ll make you want to puke when your GM takes signs him. Seattle will be his 8th team… in 11 years! Such a deal.

Finally, if Rex O’Rourke won’t, I will. Here are the NFL Picks:

‘Nawlins home cookin’ and some shake -n-bake from their D helps The Cresent City Boys put away the Vikings, 34-27. Laissez les bon temps rouler!!

‘Nawlins is also home to a bunch of people who practice the black art of voodoo… That said, me thinks the Colts have some bad mojo with the football Gods for intentionally tanking what could have been a perfect season. Joe Willie and the Spirit of ’69 live on, as the Jets upset the Colts… 16-7. And if the Jets can do it…


    Hey, Ya gotta believe.

Angry Ward, tomorrow.

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About Dr. Diz 50 Articles
Doc Diz resides in Fort Worth, Texas for the past 15 years. When not playing old boys rugby or skiing, he is known for sampling Maker's Mark for its medicinal qualities. A native of Connecticut, the Doc has managed to move around enough to have lived in all four US time zones, which has allowed him to get a little perspective from west of the Hudson where guns, drilling for oil and gas and Big Gulp soda pops are still legal.