Goodbye, Bill Walsh

You've probably already heard -- Bill Walsh, grandaddy of Unbeleivable Freaking Football Offenses That Blow Your Mind, Hall of Famer, three time Super Bowl Champion, and Overall Classy Guy, died today at the age of 75.

I was never a Niner fan, but I like this man's style, building teams with astonishing grit and egregious smarts. He built a legacy that may never be eclipsed. (Check that link!)

RIP, Coach. Thanks for the Walrus.


BTW... I wasn't sure where to insert this, but as you may know, I'm always trying to look at things from a new perspective. Here is a clip of Bill Walsh and his interpertation of some dike art. From this, I perceive that Walsh is either (1) way over my head in everything about life, (2) really nice and tolerant, humoring all sorts of different people, even annoying artists, or (3) really good at making stuff up on the fly. You decide.

Friday Circle Jerk, Vol IV

Be not bored, friends. My hiatus is almost over, training camp begins this weekend, and in a couple of weeks we'll actually be able to see the Seahawks on the field against an actual opposing NFL team.

Free Video Hosting

So that is this week's circle jerk. Yes, I am dialing it in (still not done moving), but that is all I'm really looking forward to now.

If you feel this is unsatisafactory, take the blog into your own hands--post some links in the commments to what you felt deserved a little more spooge. I'll grab a sock and meet you there.

GO SEAHAWKS!!!

Ichiro Suzuki Is Going to make Vick's Life a Nightmare

Ichiro Suzuki recently signed a five year extension with the Seattle Mariners. Why you might ask? Hargrove leaving? Team playing better? No. How about Fido...

Here's an excerpt from his press conference:

Did any one person influence you to stay in Seattle?Yes, my dog. He said "ruff, ruff, ruff." That means "stay, stay, stay."

Thanks to the fine folks at Enjoy the Enjoyment for posting the press conference.

So, what does that have to do with Michael Vick. Well, considering that Vicks getting his day in court tomorrow and Ichiro understands dogs...well, we have one boned Falcon on our hands.

We'd ask Noriaki Kinoshita to see, but his dog translating abilities have yet to be seen.

Now, its a federal case, so we may never know what Ichiro can tell the authorities. But rest assured, the testimony of those dogs will be heard.

Thanks Ichiro. Now, stop striking out/popping out with runners in scoring position.

Tim Donaghy: The Movie

No matter how things ultimately turn out in the NBA Ref Game Fixing saga, one thing on which you can bet the farm is that there's a gaggle of would-be screenwriters out there hacking out script ideas to pitch to Hollywood. At least I hope that the eventual movie is a major motion picture and not some lameass ESPN production. The last thing I want to see is John Turturro and his Mickey Mouse ears running up and down the hardcourt over the span of several weeks!


I know the facts of the case are yet to be revealed, and as yet nobody has even been officially charged of anything, but this has all the makings for a summer blockbuster. You've got racial tension of a white official fixing a predominantly black game. You've got the FBI squaring off against yet-to-be-named organized crime figures. And you have the Jewish conspiracy question of "what did David Stern know, and when did he know it?"

We'll worry about who will play what roles later, once more names and faces are added to the mix, but for now, as they say in Hollywood, let's cut to the chase.

In other words, how does this movie end, or more specifically, what will be the fate of Mr. Tim Donaghy?

As I see it, there are four possible outcomes:

A) a long term reservation at the greybar hotel
B) a guilt-ridden suicide
C) a Soprano's style gangland whacking
D) a Jimmy Hoffa-esque disappearance

Smart money is on option A) above, as the other three more dramatic endings usually only occur in the cinema, but those are the ones that the screenwriters are hoping for.

A guilt ridden suicide is the most lame, as it makes the ref into a sympathetic character and robs the bloodthirsty viewers of the ultimate rub out, especially those who may have lost money on actual games Donaghy had officiated.

The gangland hit has the most potential, from a classic movie ending standpoint, but it's pretty cliche' at this point, so much so the final episode of The Sorpanos decided that sucking was a better option.

Option D) provides a lot of intrigue (and possibly a sequel) as it leaves a ton of unanswered questions. Did the mob get to him? Did the FBI dump him in witness protection? Did he escape and is now living on the lamb? Or did David Stern exercise his ultimate authority as the most powerful commissioner of the four three major sports leagues, and call in the hit himself?

So while we all have to wait to see what ultimately happens to this weasley bastard who has now called into question every ump, ref, and officiating crew working the major leagues.

Readers are welcome to use the comment area and try your hand at writing the final scene of Tim Donaghy: The Movie yourself. For my money, I'd like to see him and Bill Leavy holding hands while driving off the edge of a cliff Thelma and Louise style!

(this item was written before reading the similarly themed Bill Simmons piece on ESPN.com)

NFL Players as Transformers Part 3: the Humans

Here's part one and part two.


The humans are to the Transformer movie what a lecture about European trade policies is to a porno. They really shouldn't be there. I did not pay $7.50 (for a matinee! Damn you Regal Theatres!) to watch Sam Witwicky be more awkward at picking up chicks than I am. I paid that good money to watch giant robots fight each other.

That said, Michael Bay decided we needed a human element to the story. Dear Mr. Bay, No we didn't. We needed more robots and more fighting. Why are Godzilla movies classics? Because the only humans are the people running away from the BROC (Big Reptile on Campus). Plus, the movie adds human characters that weren't in the cartoon. Really, Sam Witwicky would have done us just fine.

Well, here's the anticlimactic third installment of NFL Players as Transformers...

Captain William Lennox: First major human character, leads a team of survivors from a Decepticon attack across the desert in search of a telephone. Is probably smarter then he lets on.

NFL Comparison: Kellen Winslow. Leading the Browns is quite similar to looking for a phone in the desert. Plus, he's a f***ing soldier.

Simmons: Not to be confused with Bill, Simmons is an agent in the uber-secret government group called Sector 7. He says he makes a lot of money, is kind of a dick about the whole thing, but after realizing that the Giant Robots could kill him without realizing it, became Mr. Nicey nice. Was convinced by a teenage girl to strip and was subsequently handcuffed to a pole. You need to know these things.

NFL Comparison: Roger Goodell. Alright, I know he isn't a player, but come on. This fits the man to a T. He talks tough, suspending Pacman Jones for a season all because the Tennessee corner has an abnormal obsession with the weather. Then when his prize Shih Tzu (pun very much intended) Michael Vick dogfights, he comes Softy McLimperton when it comes to discipline. He makes a lot of money, and like Simmons, is probably secretly into bondage. Or at least he will be, just as soon as he can find Gene Upshaw's leash.

John Keller: Is the Secretary of Defense. Allows teenage hackers to help the country figure out what Autobots are. Somehow allows one such person to just casually step into one of his meetings, gets trapped in a room with two hackers and an old computer by some Decepticons. Not going to call him inept, but Canada's invasion is forthcoming in the sequel.

NFL Comparison: Joey Harrington. Is also inept, and will be invading Canada in two years...as a member of the Calgary Stampede.

Mikaela Baines: A hottie with a juvenile record, claims she has a bad habit of falling for guys with big muscles, making it a miracle that Bumblebee is still a virgin. She's a bit of a "grease monkey" and made Sam Witwicky grease his monkey on a lot of occasions. Ends up making out with Sam on top of Bumblebee.

NFL Comparison:



Her name is Kristi. No more explanation.

Sam Witwicky: A geek, who somehow lands the hottie at the end, befriends the Autobots, and finds out that when large, evil robots want to kill you, one can run very, very fast.

NFL Comparison: Shaun Alexander. What, you thought the most important person in the film wouldn't be a Seahawk? Witwicky didn't have sex until the world was saved. Well, were guessing he did it anyway. Shaun waited until marriage before doing the same. (Sex, not saving the world) Shaun is also a bit of a geek, what with his teaching kids to play chess and all. Plus, he can run really fast.


There you have it, NFL players in the transformers movies. Now, if you excuse me, I have more time to kill before training camp opens.

Who is the Turd in the Seahawks Punchbowl?

Gone are perennial fuck-ups like Koren Robinson and Jerramy Stevens, and we know that Tim Ruskell has been hell-bent on drafting and signing choirboys with high moral fiber.

However, even if you go over the resumes of all the Saints in the Catholic church, you're bound to find that some are not as holy as others. So there must be at least two or three guys in the locker room who are doing some shit that they shouldn't be doing.

Probably not dog fighting or hopefully not other inexcusable acts like taking steroids, hot-tubbing with teen-agers or voting Republican. But mark my words, if somebody is doing something they shouldn't be, then Sheriff Richie Cunningham and his posse of Ralph and Potsie are bound to catch up with them.

So who is the turd currently floating in the Seahawk punchbowl?

The most recent Seahawks to make some news for off-field issues are Patrick Kerney, who apparently lives upstairs in a frat house, and Shaun Alexander, who obviously doesn't not watch HGTV. This pales in comparison to punching out a division rival in a casino or running an off-season prostitution ring, so our boys need to try harder.

Big Walt is from Louisiana, and we know how those Southern boys like their illegal animal fighting, so maybe he's involved in cock-fighting or secretly backing the boxing career of Tonya Harding?

Julian Peterson, a handsome black man who is always neatly groomed in impeccably dressed, used to play in San Franciso. Perhaps his pregame ritual consists of listening to show tunes and the Best of Barbara Streisand on his iPOD? (not that there's anything wrong with it!)

Could Matt Hasselbeck have such an uncontrollable gambling habit that he'd bet on everything from how the number of carrots in a can of Chunky Vegetable Soup to how many seasons of sucking it will take before the Cardinals fire Ken Wisenhunt?

It used to be that the Seahawks were generally ignored by the NFL media due to their history of mediocrity, but that all changed with three straight division crowns and their trip to Super Bowl XL. Now it seems they're being snubbed in the police blotter section, with all the attention on the Bengals, Steelers and Falcons.

And even though it makes me very happy that no member of my favorite team is flying to New York for a personal sit-down with The Fuhrer, as a Seahawk fan, I feel compelled to whine about it anyway!

A Wheel Bad Pran

This story reminds me of the old kid's joke:

Which one does not belong?:
A) Lobster
B) Crab
C) Salmon
D) Chinese guy run over by a steamroller

The answer of course is C) Salmon...because the other three are crustaceans!
(for our readers in St. Louis, say it slowly....crushed-asians)


Apparently, some Chinese national figured that his ticket to the promised land was Flight 858 bound for San Franciso. Unfortunately, said crushed (and freeze dried) Asian did not actually have a ticket, so he thought he'd hide in the wheel well of the nose cone for the 12 hour flight from Shanghai.

Here's my favorite quote from the article:

Stowing away in such a manner "has been attempted, but it's never been successful," he said.

"At altitude there's no air to breathe and it's maybe minus-40 degrees for 12 hours," [Airport spokesman Michael] McCarron said. "You can't survive."

"People think they can make it into a country by hiding in a wheel well," said Federal Aviation Administration spokesman Ian Gregor. "Almost invariably they get crushed to death, freeze to death, or fall to death."

So let me see if I've got this right? Twelve hours in a cramped space sucking on an oversized Goodyear at temperatures ten times colder than winter in Buffalo? Where do I sign up!!

I'm just waiting for the good old Civil Liberties Union to demand that Boeing install heaters and cushioned compartments in plane wheel wells to keep from this kind of tragedy from recurring.

Of course, that would otherwise cut down on the material for a non-Vick blog piece on an otherwise slow NFL news day.

Besides, it gave me a chance to use that graphic of the hottie, and one of my favorite childhood jokes.

NFL Players as Transformers Part 2: The Decepticons

As I stated last time, I never got into the Transformers cartoons. The current movie was really my first chance to meet Giant Fighting Robots (from space!). So, when I found out the bad guys were named the "Decepticons" I instantly loved them. It sounds like "Lying Robots." Kind of like if Ken Lay founded a group of his close personal friends and called it the "Fraudmen."

The leader of the Cheatin' Dirty robots is Megatron, who looks way more wicked bad ass in the movie then he does in the picture here. Go see it and marvel at Megatron. Honestly, if he had won (oops, spoiler alert!) I totally could have handled him being ruler of the known universe.

So, who in the NFL has what it takes to be a Decepticon? Let me say this, the person I hate the most in the League is Al Davis, but he's not a player. So, I had to, like, put thought into this.

Frenzy: Frenzy is like a Transformer on crack. He jumps around, does stuff really fast, and is an absolute pain in the balls. He plays a big part in the film, and I consider him the worst part of it. Nevertheless, the movie is awesome. But Frenzy is this movie's Jar-Jar Binks.

NFL Comparison: Shawne Merriman. To bring in another movie, I'd like to quote the Big Lebowski for a second here. I don't like your jerk-off name, I don't like your jerk-off face, I don't like your jerk-off behavior, and I don't like you, jerk-off -- do I make myself clear? . Merriman cheated, a got nothing more then a slap on the wrist, plus he does that moronic sack dance. The Chargers, as a whole, are quite awesome and a joy to watch, but Merriman brings the lot down.

I hate Shawne Merriman.

Barricade: In the movie, Barricade is the first Decepticon we see. He's in the form of a police car, and he like to torment our hero Sam Witwicky. At one point, he tries to run over Sam. Then he gets the living scrap metal beat out of him by Bumblebee, who as I've said before, is a giant, mentally handicapped toaster.

NFL Comparison: Ben Roethlisburger. He's surprisingly agile, but we all know about his driving skills (motorcycle crash) and his IQ (no helmet).

Starscream: Starscream is second in command of the Decepticons, and when he fails, Megatron lets him know. According to Wikipedia, he's also a coward. Plus, my friend whose really into Transformers gave me this little tidbit: If you watch closely in the movie, Starscream (in jet mode) attacks Megatron. He's a little bitch!

NFL Comparison: Eli Manning. He's the Official Little Bitch of the NFL. He's also a coward, and Giants fans, who are like one giant Megatron, let him know ever time he fails. This job is to easy.

Megatron: Known as NBE 1 to the US Government (Non-Biological Extraterrestrial) and known as MOFOBADASS 2 to me. Megatron is the leader of the Decepticons. He was frozen for centuries in the Arctic, and is the reason for all technology in our modern world (we reverse engineered him). He was kept in frozen stasis inside Hoover Dam. He also blew up a lot of shit.

NFL Comparison: Mario Williams. Let me explain, I don't think Williams is evil. He's probably a nice man. I do know this: He's going to be hidden from view playing for the Texans, always unfairly compared to Reggie Bush, and will probably blow up some offensive lines. Sure Megatron is bent on ruling the entire universe, but Williams, like Megatron, will always be misunderstood by NFL fans. Hell, NFL fans don't even understand Megatron! Who knows, maybe the big guy wanted to give us all free beer? Doubtful, but we'll never know because Optimus Prime beat the hell out of him. So, maybe Williams might become a dominant DE, but Merril Hodge will always be there to say, "The Texans should have gone with Reggie Bush!"

Merril Hodge, you're a dick.

Next: Part 3: The Humans.

Nice Going, NFL.com

Don't get me wrong, I'm usually geeked everytime I see a Seahawk player prominently profiled on a national web site, but the timing and headline for this feature on Shaun Alexander are just irresponsible.

For the NFL to put a picture of one of the true "good guys" of the league, under the heading "Repeat Offenders" on the day that Michael Vick is indicted on dog fighting charges is a joke.

Millions of casual sports fans will be clicking on NFL.com for news on Vick, and will be served up this misleading image and headline, which sets an instantaneous connotation in the visitor's brain, most of whom won't bother to click through to get the full story or understand the tongue-in-cheek nature of the headline.

I understand this story was probably written and published well before the Vick news broke, but given the inflamatory nature of the events surrounding the indictment, they should take this story down or change the misleading headline.

Oh yea, and the refs screwed the Seahawks in Super Bowl XL too!

When Orientals Make Fun of Your Driving

You know you're a complete boob when Orientals make fun of your driving.

With the British Open coming up this weekend in Carnoustie, we're once again reminded of Jean Van de Velde's epic meltdown in 1999.



And the only thing to make the incredible feat more absurd, is to watch it unfold with Japanese commentary.

Enjoy!

NFL Players as Transformers Part 1: The Autobots

This past week, I went to go see Transformers. I never watched the cartoon, but anytime there's a movie involving gigantic robot aliens from space fighting each other, I'm game. The movie did not disappoint. If you haven't seen the movie, go do so. Now. Trust me, this post will wait.


Plus, its more historically accurate than Pearl Harbor was, Michael Bay's last film.

The robot pictured is Optimus Prime...or MOFOBADASS 1. He is the leader of the Autobots, or the good guys. I got to thinking who NFL players were in comparison to the Transformers. So, I bring you part 1 of a 3 part series: NFL Players as Transformers. Part 2 will be the Decepticons, Part 3 will be the humans that more or less detract from the Huge Robot Death Match.

Here we go...AUTOBOTS ASSEMBLE!!!



(By the way, if you haven't seen the movie, there are some spoilers here.)

Bumblebee: Bumblebee is, in a way, the main character in the film. He's the transformer with the most screen time. He befriend Sam Witwicky. He is also the retarded Autobot. He can't speak right, and he has this dumb look on his face the whole movie usually reserved for sad puppy dogs when their master leaves for work. Despite this, he's loyal, plays through pain, and is quite admirable.

NFL Comparison: Brett Favre. Favre is loyal, probably shouldn't play, but does, and after an interception, shares the same priceless look our Downs' Syndromed Autobot has. The only difference is, where as Bumblebee went from a POS Camero to a bitchin' Camero, Favre has gone in an opposite career arc.

Jazz: Second in command to Optimus Prime, and a robot that can speak Ebonics better then me after a day of watching BET, Jazz kind of plays a minimal part in the movie. Sure, he punches some other robots and says cool stuff, but overall he didn't make a lasting impression.

NFL Comparison: Matt Shaub. Was second in command in Atlanta and probably knows a lot about Ebonics. Double check. Sure, he's leading the show in Houston, but would he be prepared to have the Allspark pushed into his chest? Doubtful. He just went from best backup QB in league to also ran. Way to go Matt Shaub!

Ironhide: Weapons specialist for the Autobots. Would have no trouble wasting some humans if not for Optimus Prime being a little candyass about "I see good in humans" BS. Can dodge rocket grenades, which is a big plus.

NFL Comparison: I know you want me to go with Tank Johnston. Or Pacman Jones. Or the Bengals. But, as bad as he wanted to...Ironhide never killed people. Just like Ray Lewis. Honest.

Ratchet: The medical assistant of the group. Told the other Autobots that Sam Witwicky wanted to bone a girl he was hanging out with. A good bloke, as the Brits and Aussies say.

NFL Comparison: Walter Jones. Big Walt is getting up there in age, so he needs a bit more medical assistance. Plus, he once told the offense "Y'all better score, or I'll kill you!" Added bonus: In the film, Hatchet turns into an H2. Walter's workout includes pushing an H2 around a football field.

Optimus Prime: Listed last for dramatic affect, Optimus Prime (or Prime as Megatron calls him, in a sort of insult. As if leaving his first name off is demeaning. It was like calling someone named Urkel Studmuffin "Studmuffin") is the leader of the Autobots. He's kind to human, sees good in them, and refuses to harm them.

NFL Comparison: One of Prime's weapons is an energy axe. Based on this photo what comes to mind. Laser rocket arm? Congrats Peyton Manning, you are Optimus Prime.

But wait! OP wouldn't harm humans! He probably then would not star in every goddamn commercial every Sunday! Would OP chant "Cut that meat!" No. Why? Because he's MOFOBADASS 1 (see above) OP cuts his own damn meat. So...we're going to go with...Rex Grossman.

Granted OP had throwing accuracy, and didn't turn the ball over. But, he'd probably agree with Rex. You gotta unleash the dragon.

Stay tuned for Part 2: The Decepticons.

Surviving the Off Season with No NFL Network

Hello, there! I used to post here on a regular basis. Alba once called me a blogging diva. And if Alba says it, it must be true. Then, I retired, I guess. Now, like Michael Jordon and Mario Lemiuex, I am back.

Like most of you, I’m going through some serious football withdrawals here. I mean, if I’m actually happy that Team USA beat Brazil in the U20 FIFA World Cup, you know there’s some serious lack of awesomeness in the sports world.

Unlike most of you though, I do not have NFL Network. Nor do I have the means to do so. I’m not quite a college graduate, living at home, with not a lot of money. Basically, I’m like most bloggers out there. I must go without NFL Network for one more off-season. So, I present to you: Alan’s Guide to Surviving Without God’s Gift to Television.

10:30 am- Wake up. High five oneself for getting up before noon. Unemployment has some upsides.

11:00 am- Read sports section and funnies while eating breakfast. Some Bengal gets arrested, possibly in Garfield or NFL Notebook. Can’t remember. I undoubtedly have Wheat Chex: the best flavor of Chex. Do not disagree with this.

Noon: Shower? Might as well.

Noon-thirty: Turn on TV, check channel that NFL Network would be on to see if maybe I’ve done something to appease the pagan gods and I get NFL Network for one day.

Noon-thirty-one: I knew I should have sacrificed that goat.

12:45 Go online…hope for some big breaking story at Seahawk Blue.

12:50 Happy birthday Piratesloth…not quite big breaking news. Continue to poke around Blue, end up leaving post in Sonics forum that makes fun of Clay Bennett. Look longingly at Seahawks forum and remember the days when a Jeremy Stevens joke was gold. As Cream sang, “Those were the days, yes they were, those were the days.”

1:00 Go to Sando’s blog. Not sure whether to trust Frank Hughes. Miss Sando.

1:05 Wonder if Sando will team up with Salisbury to get John Clayton.

1:07 Invent Battle Royal style tournament for all ESPN NFL Analysts. Decide I would totally watch it. Stuart Scott would undoubtedly host. Whose f***ing Now, ESPN?

1:09 Realize I am eight billionth person on Earth to make fun of the “Whose Now” series. Don’t care.

2:00 Attempt to watch Arena Football…bitch to TV that the AFL is still gimmicky like it was five years ago when I honestly thought it could make it big. Wonder how I could be so dumbtarded.

2:15 Slowly and sadly realize that given my desire to go into sports casting, I will probably have to pretend to care about Arena Football for three hours each week at some point. Contemplate becoming a hand model.

2:30 Please, let there be Seahawk news….Damnit.

3:00 Go to store to find something lunch-ish, come across football preview magazines.

3:30 Baffle myself and only buy one college football magazine. Read through Pac-10 predictions at home, say mean things about USC. They win everything.

4:00 Check back to NFL Network…still a black screen.

5:00 Happy hour! Except the house is out of bourbon…and rum. What the hell? The parentals need to get on that.

Till 6:00: Wish I had a breathalyzer to see if I could get closer to legal limit without going over than Tank Johnson.

6:01: Briefly think I could take Tank Johnston in fight. Then realize, he carries 40 guns at him at one time.

7:00 Dinner. Sadly, no NFL News.

7:30 Read some random power rankings. WHAT?!?!? They have the JETS ahead of the Seahawks?!? That guy knows nothing about football...he should be commentating AFL games. Wish I had something unbreakable to throw.

7:35 Go to Blue, find thread about said Power rankings. Put in token “Its only preseason polls/who cares what they say anyway” post. Take holier than thou approach to people who seem genuinely upset about the rankings.

8:00 Thank God its not Thursday, don’t have to watch Grey’s Anatomy.

8:15 Go to KSK, realize its weekend and they have no new material. Reread the Friday Cheerleader post for about twenty minutes.

8:35 Start to get excited for the next Michael Vick off-season adventure.

9:00 Two hours till Adult Swim…two hours till Adult Swim…Watch SportsCenter. There is very little NFL News.

9:35 When the Whose Now subject comes on, succumb to dark side and put betting lines on my Battle Royal. Best bet is Steve Young to be knocked out in the first round. I decide I like Tom Jackson to win it by jacking someone up, and Michael Irvin to get distracted by some cocaine. Jaws will breakdown film afterwards.

10:30 Half hour till Adult Swim! If you haven’t watched Adult Swim on Cartoon Network, then you desire to golf with Osama bin Laden.

10:45 Check once more for NFL News, nothing interests me.

11:00 Adult Swim! Grab beers, watch cartoons.

2:00 a.m.-Adult Swim goes to Anime mode. Weak. Go online, see if Pacman Jones was at a strip club earlier.

2:30 a.m.-No evidence suggests he was, but I have my doubts. The nation’s strippers are safe for another night.

3:00 a.m.-Bed. Pray that planets align in some weird way to bring me NFL Network tomorrow.

4:30 a.m.: Dream about having NFL Network. Greatest dream ever. Wait…is Jennifer Gardner turning on my 100 inch plasma HDTV with her titties? GREATEST. DREAM. EVER.

5:00 a.m.-Wake up right before best part. Audibly curse. Go back to bed, have dreams that are nowhere near as awesome. Like the Seahawks winning the Super Bowl.

5:30 a.m. OK, the Super Bowl Championship was a good dream to, I reason with myself. But, well, NFL Network…gigantic TV…titties…sigh. That dream was awesome.

10:30 a.m. Wake up, mark one day off the calendar till training camp.

Because They Said So: Back to Work!

Because They Said So is a regular round up of Seahawks news from other sources. We gave it this name because we bloggers have no media credentials and we have to take these people's damn word for it.

• Mike Reiss of the Boston Globe covers the Seahawks' offseason. Nice artice, suprisingly accurate and insightful for an East coast fish wrap. Among the good things were some quotes from Matt Hasselbeck I haven't seen anywhere else, regarding how he expects Deion Branch's receptions to go way up this season:
  

  "You'd watch one of our practices and it was almost unfair, Darrell Jackson was catching almost every ball," Hasselbeck said. "It's how the [West Coast] system was designed and you look back at those who played there in Green Bay and San Francisco: Robert Brooks, Sterling Sharpe, Antonio Freeman, Jerry Rice. I think there are certain plays Mike Holmgren likes to call because it reminds him of good plays when he was coaching in Green Bay and San Francisco. He loves to say, 'Z-in.' He doesn't love to say 'X-in' as much."

  
  Nice. Can you say "sleeper fantasy pick?"
  


• DJ Hackett may play the field after this season. According to Seahawks.net via Field Gulls, Hackett's agent told Sirius Radio he will likely "play out the season and entertain offers from other teams when free agency begins next March (though he sees the Seahawks as a viable future choice)." Sounds like a smart move. This is most likely to be a breakout season for Hackett, and he couldn't ask for better timing. I just hope he can get by in the meantime on his meager $1.3 million RFA salary.

That's all for now. I gotta get back to work(ing out some baby batter after seeing that Amy Miller picture one too many times.)

Yeah, The 49ers Had a Crappy 80's Video, Too

I feel much better now. Thanks to this video and a delightful romp in the sack with a very hetero wife, I nearly have the gay taste out of my mouth from that last post.

The the self-proclaimed "Team of the 80's" can look this queer, even with several Hall of Fame players frolicking about, I don't feel so bad about the Blue Wave of '85.



I have to give them credit, though. They didn't try to sing, they just rapped (kind of.) But all the horrible elements are there.

• Cheesy graphics
• Players pretending to blow horns
• Someone pretending to insert something into his orifice
• Someone takes their shirt off for the camera
• Demonstration of a tongue trick
• Someone dancing like a retard (take your pick, but Jerry Rice does it best.)
• Group booty shaking
• Poorly synchronized choregraphy
• Lots of other gay stuff, too many to mention.

Sorry, 49er fans. I had to do it.

Yet Another Emasculating Seahawks Related Video

Just shoot me.

As if it wasn't bad enough to have the 1985 Seahawks produce a torrid, steamy music video featuring Herman Munster Mike Tice and Michael Jackson Michael Jackson, a whole gaggle of bikini-bottom wearing school boys get together and do this...



What happened to the good ol' days, when kids who pulled stuff like this got their asses kicked?

Ironically, the lords of gay karma must have seen it. Two days after filming, the Seahawks lost Super Bowl XL.

That's it. NO MORE GAY SEAHAWKS VIDEO. At least not until I find something equally horrible about an NFC West rival.

A Post of Self Importance

Any long-time readers of 12 Seahawks Street should recognize the image to the left as the Magic Hat, and should infer that this means it's time for the Alba family to go on vacation, which it is.

I leave the blog in the sweaty but capable hands of Heir Bloof, and hope that no real good stories break while I'm away so he has to scramble to come up with content.

Knowing him, he'll just post a bunch of crap next to a picture of some scantily clad vixen, and none of our over-hormoned, under-sexed, NFL-starved readers will really give a shit. Just like you don't give a flying fuck in a rolling donut that I'll be at the beach for a week.

But, as a lovely parting gift, click the link or the Magic Hat above, and relive a truly unbelievable story from last year's trip to the beach, complete with a picture of an well endowed anonymous beach goer who appears to be constipated.

Friday Circle Jerk, Vol. III

Hopefully by now, you know what the Friday Circle Jerk is all about. If not, it's some sweet, salty spots in the sports blogosphere this week that I think just didn't get quite enough spooge. So open wide:

• Jason Witten's mom should be in Roger Goodell's sights. Deuce of Davenport asks a great question: What is Roger Goodell Going To Do With This?


• Julius Jones won't sign some broad's titty. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.) Kissing Suzy Kolber has all the delicious details.


• Tie one on with your favorite sports idol. Deuce hits two home runs this week, this last one being a nice list of cocktails that should be named after athletes.


• First funny predictions list of the year. Troy's Thoughts On Sports walks you through a whole lot of what will and won't happen this season. Good Stuff.

Well, that's all a got--it's that slow, miserable time of year. Chalk one up to premature ejac.

Piss On The Star

I gotta admire the spirit of these Slur fans. Nothing like singing out vile guestures of hatred to all the kids to keep the Redskins-Cowboys rivalry going.



I wonder if that dude in the middle knows he solos like a 12 year old?

Because They Said So: Merrill Hodge Brain Damage!

Because They Said So is a regular round up of Seahawks news from other sources. We gave it this name because we bloggers have no media credentials and we have to take these people's damn word for it.

• Seahawks blogger Dan Lucero of MVN takes a great ride on Merrill Hodge's ignorance about the Seahawks' secondary.
• From the 'Worth a Chuckle' department: A Broncos blogger ranks Jay Cutler over Matt Hasselbeck. Heck, that may even be worth a giggle.
• Surprise, surprise--According to the USA today, Shaun Alexander was the ninth highest-paid player in the NFL last season at $15,125,000. If that surprises you, then consider how he was topped by Vikings LG Steve Hutchinson, who was ranked at #4, and paid a cool $16,588,080.
• Deep in the bowels of the Seahawks' depth chart is the 4th or 5th string RT Kyle Williams. He's a longshot to even make the practice squad, but there is a nice feature about him on WeAreSC.com. He seems to be a hard worker who makes the most of his opportunities.

Oh, and meet my fantasy librarian Nikki Cox. I'd like to look something up in her Dewey Decimal system!

Because They Said So, Fourth of July Edition

Because They Said So is a regular round up of Seahawks news from other sources. We gave it this name because we bloggers have no media credentials and we have to take these people's damn word for it.

It's that wonderful time of year where there are more Coronas in my fridge than good Seahawks topics. I just wish I could keep that ratio going through training camp. Nonetheless, here are some things of note:

• The Seahawks have signed four year contracts with two of their rookies, guard Mansfield Wrotto and linebacker Will Herring, chosen in the fourth and fifth rounds respectively. I'm trying not to yawn, but it's hard. The most intrigue I call possibly pull out of this is that Wrotto was essentially acquired in trade for Darrell Jackson, and is a project at best, in the process of converting from defensive tackle in college. If and when things go wrong this season, I expect this trade to be brought up by the old 'fire Holmgren' crowd.


• Matt Hasselbeck is out of shape. I know it's a couple of weeks old, but Art Theil reports that, while Hasselbeck's shoulder surgery is ahead of schedule, he doesn't have his football strength yet:
  

  "Right now I'm not strong. I'm trying, but I have a lot of training to do. In order for me to be successful and play a full season, I gotta be strong. I'm way ahead of my rehab, but where I am physically is more like March. I'm way behind."

  Maybe he's got a little jellybelly going on. But he's going to have to train hard this offseason to get back into shape, or it's going to be a long year for him.


• Michael Silver of SI.com ranks the top NFL owners. Of course, it's chock full of East coast bias. Paul Allen shows up strong at #12. But at least Silver brought home a paycheck.

Now if you'll excuse me, my Coronas are lonely.

Is The Clock Ticking On David Greene?

Since the departure of Mike Sando, there has been a thirst for facts regarding the Seahawks' most recent move, the signing of QB Erik Meyer. Thankfully, the TNT delivered their commitment to Seahawks coverage by assigning long time beat writer Dave Boling to the task.

What is revealed is that the clock may be ticking on the third string QB, David Greene:

Here’s what I see from the sidelines in practices: Greene is not a consistently precise passer. Even if it’s little tosses to flaring backs, the ball is sometimes delivered in a spot where the back has to break stride to make the catch. One of the most impressive things about watching Matt Hasselbeck practice is his focus on delivering every pass … even in warm-ups and drills … to a place where it’s easy to catch. Greene doesn’t always show that degree of focus.

Greene might have been a gamer in college, but having invested a third-round pick in him in 2005, Holmgren and company may have him on the bubble.

Just Pay Off the Officials, Jim!

As much as it pains me to have Jerome "Lombardi Stealing" Bettis on this site, I think the NFL and PGA missed a golden opportunity to come clean about Super Bowl XL and make what would have been a lock for an Emmy winning commercial.

All they needed to do was to end this over-done "you're skinny and I'm fat" bit with one honest throw away line, and this would become a 30-second instant classic.

I wish Bettis had turned to Furyk in the end and just said, "Aww fuck it Jim, don't worry about what you eat, just make sure the final match is scheduled in your hometown, then pay off an official or two like I did!"


Special Thanks to You Been Blinded where I found this clip.

Who's Now? ESPN, You Ignorant Slut

Call me a throwback; a crumudgeon; a bona fide, old school, pain in the ass. From my very first glance of the Who's Now segment on ESPN's SportCenter, I greeted it with a filthy abhorrence.

Granted, it's a completely harmless and benign exercise of fan preference. Nobody dies or gets hurt. But deep down, the sports fan in me wants to tell the folks at ESPN to stop altering the goddamn fundamentals of sport.

Throughout July, "SportsCenter" will air "Who's Now," a daily series in which viewers will help ESPN determine the ultimate sports star by considering both on-field success and off-field buzz. Based on fan nominations, ESPN Research selected 32 finalists to square off in a single-elimination bracket. The winner of each matchup will advance based upon fan voting (70 percent) and ESPN's three-person panel (30 percent).

This is flat wrong. Sports are, and always have been, about winning. At the sacred fundament of sports is the novel concept that at end of a contest, you are the winner if your score is better that the others. Peceived Greatness and fame in sports comes from doing it repeatedly and against worthy opponents.

Winning the game is the whole purpose of any sport. Popularity, respect, and pussy are all secondary during the contest.

Now I can understand if you're thinking, "Now wait a minute. When I played, it was all about the poon. When I won, I got laid. When I lost, I played the pity card and still got laid. That's what it's all about."

I totally respect that, BUT--I don't know about you, but I was going to get mine anyway. With or without sports, I was determined to hit the love bucket, and not my own speedbag. Sports had nothing to do with it, and it doesn't for anyone else. I firmly believe Wilt Chamberlain would have been a porn star if it weren't for basketball, and he still would have scored penetrated 100 on that fateful night in Hershey, Pennsylvania, just in a different way.

What is ESPN accomplishing with this load of crap, other than turn good athletes into the Paris Hiltons of Sports? Some of their nominees haven't done shit, i.e., Matt Leinart, and yet they are being vaunted as an icon, and attempting to comare him with the likes of Tiger Woods.

This is deplorable. In the same vein as the ESPy's, ESPN is whoring sports into a mindless, empty hype; where given honors are determined, not on the field, but by the number of headlines they can milk from it.

Bottom line: "Off-field buzz" has nothing to do with a player's greatness. Get it the fuck out.

UPDATE: Sports Hernia makes fun of the Now, too.

UPDATE UPDATE: Awful Announcing offers the video clip if you are interested in masochhism.

If I were Paul Tagliabue I'd Be Pissed!

Well into the tenure of newly appointed Football Czar, Roger Goodell, I'm starting to wonder what kind of relationship he had with his former boss.

Because if I were Paul Tagliabue, I'd be pissed.

First, Richie Cunningham with his new and tougher personal conduct policy, has shown a very bright light on the criminal and antisocial behavior that apparently was going unnoticed, or at least undeterred, under the Tagliabue administration.

Then, with his wing-tipped encased left foot, Goodell stamped out the World League of American Football NFL Europe That German League NFL Europa, the unsuccessful manifest-destiny brain-child of his bispeckled predecessor.

And for his grand finale, to add insult to injury, he pulls off a feat that neither Tagliabue nor the Son of God himself, Pete Rozelle could accomplish, which was to win a judgement against Al Davis and the The Evil Empire.

While every out-going leader says the right things publicly, I'll bet that deep down they secretly hope their successor struggles a little bit, or at least doesn't make them look like a total ass-hat in their first year in the corner office.

If I were Paul Tagliabue, I'd be pissed!

Sadly, I Have To Agree: The Seahawks of the 1985 Were, Um, Sometimes Unmanly.

I really don't know how to preface this, but part of me wants to die.

Mike Tice has his shirt off. He dances like a paraplegic. Steve Largent is actually clipped--I call it sacrilege. And a steamy shower scene ends in a man blowing on a brass something something.

So, enjoy the video while I put a gun in my mouth.



FYI: This is year Seattle followed two consecutive playoff seasons with an undewhelming 8-8 record. Blleeyyyaaach.

(Found on Kissing Suzy Kolber via Enjoy the Enjoyment via With Leather)

12 Seahawks Street Will Track A Useless Contest of Statistics Between Darrell Jackson and Deion Branch

On my long drive back from the Oregon Coast this weekend, many Seahawks-related things rattled around in my cranium. (After some of the posts lately, maybe you're relieved.)



One of the things that I got to thinking about was the upcoming seasons of Darrell Jackson and Deion Branch. For those of you who spent the last football season under a rock, the Seahawks' acquisition of Branch from the Patriots made Jackson expendable. Immediately, speculation arose in blogdom as to who would be the #1 receiver of the future. Jackson, with his history of skipping OTA's, injury history (with seemingly non-compliant self-sponsored medical evaluation) and drive-killing drops, there was plenty of fuel to feed that speculation.

With Jackson's draft day departure to the 49ers, the specualtion was over. Branch moved up to take Jackson's role as flanker, and Jackson finally gave the 'Niners a true #1 receiver.

But questions still remain: Did Seattle overpay for Branch, handing over a first round pick and a $39 million? Would the Seahawks have been better off sticking with Jackson, and letting the 'Niners keep their measly fourth round pick?

To be honest, none of it truly matters to me. All I really care about is the scoreboard at the end of the game, and the division standings at the end of the regular season. The only true determination of a successful acquisition is if the team wins when the player plays. Sure, stat monkeys have always been the poo-flinging anathema to this logic, but as usual, I am right and they are wrong.

For the sake of argument, let's say a newly acquired receiver goes out one Sunday and racks up 11 catches for 130 yards in a losing effort against his former team. On the surface, you would think he carried his team, and hoo-boy, he showed them. Afterwards, Stat monkeys would fling that poo, saying we should have kept him, blah blah blah, we sure could use a gamer like that in the playoffs.

But what the airborne feces doesn't tell you:

• About that key drop in the first quarter that killed their opening drive.
• How that missed block that could have sprung the RB for a touchdown.
• To quote Madden, (aargh!) "he zigged when he should've zagged," resulting in an interception. (and he zigged because he didn't do his homework.)
• The fact that his team got behind, in part because he didn't do the little things, so they had to throw the running game out the window; AND he got the ball thrown to him a lot as a result, padding his stats.

I'll take the winning player any day. I'll take the player that quietly does the little things, and does what he needs to win. If he ends the game with three catches for 28 yards, so be it. They are probably all first downs.

Branch is that kind of player. Recall last year against the Cheifs when Alba gave Deion the DAA for stripping the ball in a critical situation. He's more than a receiver, he's a damn fine football player.

But you know what, poo-flinging stat monkeys? I'm going to concede this time. The comparison between Branch and Jackson does hold some intrigue. In the big picture, who cares, but sometimes little subplots make nice blog filler. So as a guesture of my goddamn effervescent kindness, I'm going to heep a rolling stat sheet in one of the columns comparing the two in common stats - receptions, yards, touchdowns, and more importantly -wins in games they actually played. Look for it in the right hand column, people.

No really, stop thanking me. It's the least I can do.