The 12 Days of Sportsmas

Being married to a woman who just about drools holiday spirit when she sleeps, it's hard to resist the siren call of Christmas festivity, and I've done well so far.

Until now.

I have a free-floating anger complex that's provoked whenever I hear Christmas music, primarily due to having it crammed down my ears throughout every December of a 10-year retail career. And so, what do I do to combat this uncontrollable, blinding rage?

Um...I spoof a Christmas song with sports-oriented lyrics? Yeah, this'll end well.

All that aside, 2009's been a busy year, both for me personally and for ye olde sports industry. And while I'd love to bore everyone senseless with a tune about my year of job-hopping, college-starting, and braces-buying, it might be a bit more fun to bore my readers (both of them) with a song about the year in sports.

So, I offer this: "The 12 Days of Sportsmas." Enjoy. Or don't. Whichever.

*blows tuning note on harmonica* Oh, by the way, we're going straight to Day 12, because I'm sure no one wants to read me repeating Days 1-11 multiple times to get to the end. Lord knows I'm not interested in typing all of it over and over again. Ahem...

*blows another tuning note on harmonica*

On the Twelfth Day of Sportsmas, ESPN (say it like "Espen") gave to me...

12 Nets a-losing: The New Jersey Nets broke a record by starting the season 0-18. Since then, they've "improved" to 2-24. At the rate they're both going, Kobe Bryant will end the season with more game-winning buzzer-beaters than the Nets will total wins. Anyone want to take that wager?

11 CJ touchdowns: I made fun of Tim in the 3FL for passing on Chris Johnson to take Clinton Portis. Meanwhile, my first pick was Steve "Fumbleupagus" Slaton. Yeah, Tim's the kettle and I'm the pot. He's not in the playoffs, and I might not be for long. Oh, yeah, and CJ's sort of the truth.

10 weeks a holdout: Al Davis wasn't even content to screw up business for his own team, he had to go and jack things up for his Bay Area neighbors, the 49ers. Davis taking Darrius ("1 Second of 40 Time for Every Reception") Heyward-Bey instead of Michael ("Whaddaya Mean Mel Kiper Doesn't Sign My Paycheck?") Crabtree launched the biggest NFL rookie soap-opera since...well, since Al's last retarded high draft pick.

9 trades for Q-Rich: Okay, so Quentin Richardson wasn't traded nine times this year, per se...but over the course of his career (and the three years preceding it), either he or the pick with which he was eventually selected have been traded NINE TIMES. (Give it your best Ed Rooney from "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" voice.) Note that four of those trades came this offseason, and within a SIX-WEEK span. His luggage didn't even have time to get re-routed to some of his destinations before he was dealt again. Next time you feel unwanted at work, just think about this poor bastard.

8 golfer's bimbos: Oh, yeah, Tiger Woods made a lot of "friends" over the last decade or so. (Allegedly.) Take a little quiz and see how Tiger's harem stack up to other famed historical mistresses. And if you're so inclined, listen to a very complimentary porn star who had a good time at his bachelor party. (Allegedly.)

7 points a-missing: Oh, but for one more touchdown (okay, and PAT) per game, Purdue could have been playing on New Year's Eve Eve or something. Hopefully, the football team's used up enough bad karma that the basketball team can cruise to Indy in April.

6 coaches circling: There are six NFL coaches who may or may not want to get back into the league, and they've got the bling to ensure that any owner with half a working brain (and maybe even Al Davis and Dan Snyder, too) will want to have them on speed dial. Brian Billick, Bill Cowher, Mike Shanahan, Jon Gruden, Mike Holmgren, and Tony Dungy will keep hearing questions about their futures as long as they want to, because they're all sure to be getting plenty of offers. Apparently, some already have. (Okay, one of those is a serious reach.)

FIVE-FINGERED GOALS!!!!!!


Last time I saw a hand fondle a ball so blatantly, it was Al Bundy sticking his hand down his trousers for the last time on "Married With Children."

4-team trades: And this isn't including the three or four other moneybags teams that were supposed to be banging on the Toronto Blue Jays' door with signs that said, "Rape me." If Roy Halladay blows out his elbow in May, Philadelphia will burn. Especially if Kyle Drabek turns out to be better than his dad.

3 shafted schools: TCU and Boise State scared the BCS Mafia so badly that they essentially got shoved into the closet against each other and told, "Don't come out until one of you is dead...or until the Big Ten picks its 12th team." Don't cry to Cincinnati, though...the Mafia's already helping Notre Dame get back into their guaranteed seat by shafting the Bearcats out of a shot at the national title, and thereby their coach. Even UC can't complain TOO much, though...this is the second time Cincy's poached its replacement from Central Michigan.

2 perfect teams: I would mortgage all three of my fantasy football leagues (and may have done so in one, after Dallas Clark caught two scores last night) AND Adam and Amanda's unborn child Roman (just something Adam's been kicking around the office) to see the 16-0 Colts against the 16-0 Saints (led by Purdue's Finest himself) in Super Bowl XLIV. And for the perfect halftime show, the remaining members of the '72 Dolphins (including the last Purdue QB to win a Super Bowl, Mr. Taco himself) can line up at the 50-yard line and shoot themselves.

AND A JUMBOTRON BIGGER THAN YOUR HOUSE....




















Thanks for the overcompensation, Jerry. Nobody wants to watch Tony Romo screw up in regular definition...especially since they're paying $95 just to be in the very upper-right pixel of this photo. By God, we should be able to see Tony's mascara running as he cries all the way to whatever blonde he's hooked up with that month.

So, to summarize...and feel free to sing along:

On the 12th Day of Sportsmas, ESPN gave to me:
12 Nets a-losing,
11 CJ touchdowns,
10 weeks a holdout,
9 trades for Q-Rich,
8 golfer's bimbos,
7 points a-missing,
6 coaches circling,
FIVE-FINGERED GOALS!
4-team trades,
3 shafted schools,
2 perfect teams,
AND A JUMBOTRON BIGGER THAN YOUR HOUSE!!!!!!

(Ding.)

(Come on, that was way better than those weak-sauce Best Buy ads.)

Full Moon Fever: Has the NFL Gone Completely Mental This Season?

I've been actively following football for twenty-five years. I like to think I've seen quite a bit from the game in that time. But, to be honest with you, I don't think I've seen a season get ramped up with this much goofiness since the players were walking in off the street in 1987.

First, it's Michael Vick the Eagle. Supposedly, it's all Donovan McNabb's idea, giving the offense another weapon to play with. Fair enough. If Vick's half the player he was when he went inside, he's dangerous. And not just to your pitbulls.

Then, we have McNabb being his usual candid self and saying it'd be great to have a target like Plaxico "O,MFL!" Burress. On one hand, it seems like the usually character-driven Eagles are in danger of being turned into Raiders East, the new halfway house of the NFL. On the other hand, it seems like McNabb's more interested in lobbying for sainthood than polishing his resume for the Hall of Fame. St. Donovan, the patron saint of NFL lost causes. If anyone asks Donovan about Pacman Jones, Philly fans need to run for the hills.

Speaking of the Raiders, they can always be counted on to be some kind of goofy, even boiling down to players fighting in camp. See Williams, Marcus and Romanowski, Bill (the fellas to the left...guess who won the fight).

Now, we have assistant coach Randy Hanson allegedly playing Glass Joe to Tom Cable's Little Mac...even though Cable bears more resemblance to King Hippo, honestly. I love Cable's answers to questions about the incident.

"Sure, I can address it. It's an internal issue that we're dealing with, and that's all I'm gonna say."

Translation: I can address it...but I'm not going to address it. Unfortunately, Tom, once someone got sent to the hospital and the police got involved, it kinda stopped being internal.

If we think we're going to get answers from anyone Raider-affiliated, keep dreaming. The Mafia and Fight Club take tips from Al Davis on ways to keep people from talking. Randy Hanson is, according to the San Jose Mercury News's Tim Kawakami, Al Davis's boy on the staff. As a key witness in Davis's legal war with Lane Kiffin, Hanson may be enjoying the equivalent of diplomatic immunity. He's not been at work since the incident on August 5th, but I'd be quite surprised if he's no longer on the payroll. Knowing Al, he may just pay Hanson to sit home and eat Bon-Bons until the Kiffin case gets settled.

Meanwhile, Cable may get whacked. Figuratively, literally, either way. Depends on Al's mood that day.

Finally, we have Brett Favre allegedly taking career advice from his ten-year-old daughter. Seriously, is his daughter Dakota Fanning? The entire "do what you have to do" speech sounds ripped straight from an Oscar consideration reel. Either your heart melted when he recounted this story, or you rolled your eyes and threw another layer of BS on top of the already sizeable pile that's come out of both Favre and Brad Childress over the last several months. And you might be able to guess that I haven't had to call the mop crew.

And yes, I said several months. Meaning more than three or four. This situation has been in the works for a lot longer than anyone will admit, and it'd shock me if there was no tacit understanding that Brett would show up as soon as he could without going to Mankato State University and bunking in a dorm for training camp.

I do have to give Brett one thing, he didn't do too terribly wrong by the Jets. The Packers had slipped a poison pill into their trade with New York that would have sent three first-rounders to Green Bay if the Jets had traded him to an NFC North team. Favre retired again, let the Jets release him, and got them off the hook for those picks. Good show there. And yes, it's rather sad that I have to applaud a guy for not actively screwing his old team.

Speaking of getting screwed, how long before Tarvaris Jackson goes on Vince Young suicide watch? He and Sage Rosenfels got lied to for months. They may have been the only guys thinking that there might be a chance that Favre would stay retired. But every Viking player needs to pay close attention here, because there but for the grace of God goes every player in that locker room. "We're moving on, we're closing the book, Sage and Tarvaris are our guys...whoops, sorry guys, gotta skip out for a little bit of practice so I can go pick up a GOOD quarterback from the airport." Good luck getting the guys to play to the whistle for all 16 games, Coach.

I'll put it down here, the Vikings go either 7-9 or 8-8, miss the playoffs, and Brad Childress gets fired. The final month of the season, Favre's chucking it 40 times per game, AP's getting 12 carries, and they wonder why the defense starts giving up more points. All that, of course, if the rotator cuff doesn't disintegrate.

If we're going to get any loonier, I think it'll have to entail someone ripping Tom Brady's arm off and letting loose nothing but a shower of sparks and dangling wires. Or Bill Belichick turns out to be one of those Hulu aliens. Or Jared Allen shows up to a game in nothing but a loincloth. Actually, considering the source, that last one just might happen.