NEW YORK, NY – The past couple of weeks have been something of a blur up here at Angry Central. March Madness started, my kid caught the fever (literally), and now it’s friggin’ Spring Break. My head’s spinning, but time – and sports – waits for no man. To the best of my recollection, here’s what’s been going on during the past few chaotic days.
Mouse Madness. As I mentioned, my daughter came down with a fever/cold just in time for the beginning of the NCAA Basketball Tournament, which presented a bit of a problem for our little one-TV family. Though I wanted to fully immerse myself in the Madness, rules is rules, and when someone’s not feeling up to snuff they should be able to veg in front of the tube all they want. Instead of a full slate of hoops, we got a heaping helping of Disney Jr. and on-demand movies. So, while everyone’s brackets were getting wrecked, we were watching Wreck-it Ralph; while Michigan was knocking the stuffing out of VCU we were checking out Doc McStuffins; as we were engrossed in Disney’s Cinderella, everyone else was watching tournament Cinderella Florida Gulf Coast; and as I hoped against hope to keep most of my Final 8 afloat, the Octonauts showed me how it’s done. It was a real exercise in patience and cheap wine.
Alls Wells that Ends Wells. With Curtis Granderson, Mark Teixeira, and now Derek Jeter all off visiting Doc McStuffins, it appears that the Yankees are doing the Major League Baseball equivalent of dumpster diving. Apparently they just acquired 34-year-old multi-million-dollar bust Vernon Wells from the Angels. The Bombers will only be on the hook for only $13.5 million of the final 2-year $42 million he’s got left on his bloated corpse of a contract, but still… wouldn’t that money be better spent elsewhere? For instance, you can get like a dozen Bobby Bonillas for that kinda dough on today’s market. Next up, the Yankees will be looking for an equally lousy first baseman. With any luck, Seattle can unload Justin Smoak on them. Barring that, Hal Steinbrenner has a meeting set up with a consortium of old-timey hucksters who want to talk to him about a unique opportunity involving the Brooklyn Bridge.
Tubby Made a Kishke. Out the in Corn Belt, University of Minnesota Basketball coach, and well-noted mensch, Tubby Smith returned home from his team’s one-win performance in the NCAA tournament feeling pretty good about himself. But just prior to sundown on Passover, Minnesota officials said, “Matzo fast, buddy“, and fired him on the spot. “For this, I come home?” Tubby was heard to exclaim. Smith was contacted almost immediately by St. John’s University to see if he was interested in taking over their program. But that opportunity was quashed moments later by New York Mayor Mike Bloomberg who declared that a guy named Tubby would send the wrong message to giant-sized Gothamites losing the battle of the bulge in the Mayor’s war on obesity. Oy gevalt!
Costa Rican Shower. West Coast Craig touched upon this on Monday but, for those of you who missed it, the U.S. National Soccer team beat Costa Rica in a World Cup Qualifier last Friday in Colorado during some uneventful (at least for Colorado) snow showers. It was quite a spectacle to behold, as Clint Dempsey’s early goal held up for Team America. Anyway, Costa Rica later protested the match and playing conditions, which was kinda a stinky thing to do given than none of their players were complaining during the game. Luckily, that monument to justice, FIFA, rejected the protest. Now, to protest Costa Rica’s protest, the U.S. is promising to send more annoying celebrities to buy vacation homes in that country. Hey, they asked for it.
Finally, good for Kate Upton for turning down that LA punk who invited her to his prom via a YouTube video. Enough is enough. What, every horny kid and wounded GI is supposed to get some face time with the hot broad of their choice because they went public with it? Where does it end, Short Matt asking John Daly to be his Easter Brunch date as he breaks his booze-free Lent? Funny? Yes. But still disgraceful.
Tune in tomorrow for the funny yet disgraceful stylings of Cam James.
