High-Fives Across America: Inauguration Beltway Edition

HIGH-FIVE INAUGURATION! - watch more funny videos

Nonsensical? Yes.

Silly? Yes.

Whimsical? Yes.

At least cooler than fist pounds? Yes.

Growing on me somewhat? Abso-toot-ly.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXX: Being Super Ain't Always Easy

Yet another Super Bowl Sunday approaches pretty quick
25 straight years, the Dolphins aren't involved a lick
Can Pittsburgh mount their vaunted rushing attack?
Can grocery-boy Warner avoid being put on his back?
The Bengals will be watching in a cell block with Michael Vick

As we all bid adieu to the remarkable Kay Yow
Whose story made us all simply say, "Wow"
Fought breast cancer bravely for 20 years
Carried herself with grace amidst the tears
NC State is certainly going to miss her—and how

Finally, some class is shown by one Drew Brees
Whose chase for Dan Marino's record was but a tease
He admitted that it should be broken the right way
Not by someone whose game plan is "Bombs away!"
Would help if more respected the game's greats, please

Seems the U. of Houston has put out yet another thug
Stepped on Chase Budinger like he was stomping a bug
Memories of one Christian Laettner, that queer
He was too light in his sneakers to inspire much fear
The FBI trying to make sure Coleman's not the target of a .44 slug

Desmond and Penny had a boy who's younger than 4
Named for the good Charlie, not the Charles Widmore
An H-bomb from the '50s is a danger all must heed
Faraday loves Charlotte, but she's got a nose bleed
Confused John Locke's trying to be a leader, but his Latin is poor


Raleigh's own wunderkind, John Wall
Does wonders on the hardwood with the ball
Enough to make Kansas blatantly break a rule
Enough to make Duke just another cheating school
But will he pick the Wolfpack after all?

Last time …

Season 5 Of "Lost" Kicks Off At A Breakneck Pace

For all its character development, flashbacks, flashforwards, sidestories and coincidences, "Lost" is essentially a story about redemption and a reflection on the human condition. As a result of listening to its constituency, the show's writers and producers have promised that Season 5 will convey a sense of moving toward something, and finally, providing more answers than questions—with the main query being, "When destiny calls, will you answer?"

The Season 4 finale was as well-done as any aspect of the series has been thus far, leaving us with a lot of believable cliffhangers and a myriad of questions that weren't frustrating, but challenging. And as always, we're struck by the anomaly of the horror of the island contrasted with how beautiful it looks from the air.

"Lost" does the dramatic slow-motion final scene better than anyone, and we see Kate looking back toward the sea, recognizing that the ocean and Sawyer mean freedom while the land and Jack equal stability. Meanwhile, in the final moments, Jack had the following exchange with Desmond:

"Don't let them find you, Desmond."

"I'll see you in another life, brother."

"Aye, I guess you will."

This back-and-forth between Desmond and Jack echoes the first meeting between the two. "Lost" is getting better and better at bringing plots and storylines full circle so that certain moments and lines make sense. If you would have told me that George Lucas would somehow find a way to bring the entire "Star Wars" six-ology together in a way that was brilliant and cohesive, I would have laughed. Yet, he did it; and now "Lost" is attempting to pull off the same minor miracle.

While the Season 5 premier primarily involved the flashback to three years prior, it also introduced us to the role of time travel in the development and relevance of the island, a theory that has long been posited as a major aspect of the show. Sawyer's sarcastic question of "So when are we now, Whiz Kid?" is one that we find ourselves asking along with all of the characters as the island, as described by Daniel, is "skipping" around time like a record. We see Locke reverting back to his knife-throwing ways, the reappearance of the heroin plane as it crashed (alas, no appearance of Ecko) and other previous events and occurrences. The overriding question of whether they are stuck in the past and thrust into the future pervades everything that is going on, in a fascinating—rather than an annoying—way.

Back in the "real world," Hurley struggles with sanity, bumping into a virtual Ana Lucia while wearing his new "I Heart My Schitzu" T-shirt. Sayid fights to stay alive and resolve his indentured servitude to Ben, Jack works to regain sobriety and earn back Kate's trust, Kate battles to avoid lawyers who want to take Aaron from her, and Sun conducts shady dealings with Charles Widmore and learns off the "Oceanic Six's" plan to try to return to the island.

As a snapshot, here are just a few of the ever-growing and sometimes-diminishing list of questions that still nag us as we remain glued to the set:

What the hell do the whispers mean or represent?

What is the true nature of Benjamin Linus? Who do we believe regarding his relative goodness or badness?

When are we going to find out more about Charles Widmore and the backstory about his running feud with Ben?

Will Walt and/or Michael somehow come back into this storyline?

What is wrong with Charlotte and was she, in fact, born on the island?

Will Claire continue to play a role after warning Kate not to bring Aaron back?

Why was Charlie not included in any of the flashbacks or pre-premier discussion?

Again, what was the promise that Sawyer asked Kate to keep before he jumped from the helicopter?


What role does Ms. Hawking play in the entire Widmore-Linus conflict?

What are we supposed to believe about Richard, his agelessness and his possible role in Locke's death?

What is at the root of the name Jeremy Bentham?

How are the "Oceanic Six" planning to embark on the process of returning to the island?

Where are Desmond and Penny and how will they be assisting in this effort to go back?

If the first two hours of this season are any indication, we're in for another rip-roaring jaunt around the island, around the world — and across dimenstions.

Farewell To A Legend

All of Wolfpack Nation bids a tearful and heartfelt goodbye to longtime women's coach Kay Yow, who succumbed to her long battle against breast cancer at age 66. Her impact on the women she coached and taught, the school she helped define, the sport she worked to catapult into national relevance, and the disease that she aided in raising money for a cure for will never be fully appreciated or completely understood. Yet, true to her nature, her legacy was never something she preferred to talk or think about.

The university, the conference, the city, the state and the nation lost an ever-so-rare hero today. We'll miss your your inspiration, your will, your optimism, and most of all, your smile.

May this morning find you alongside Jimmy V, drawing up Xs and Os in the clouds.

Rest in peace, Coach.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXIX: In With The New, Out With The … Jackass

Finally, good riddance to the Retard-in-Chief
After eight long years of making us say, "Good grief"
Put American lives at risk without a second thought
Upon lies, appointments were made and wars were fought
No more stupid looks and mispronunciations, what a freaking relief

Another wide receiver acting like a diva bitch
His team won, but he didn't care a stitch
Instead he whined on his team's final drive
While without him the offense did thrive
You'd fit in Detroit -- a loser, but rich

13 Oscar nominations for Mr. Benjamin Button
The cast celebrated with a dinner of wine and mutton
A cool flick with a heart, that combination can't fail
A tribute to New Orleans wrapped around a great tale
Nearly three hours, but for that punishment I am a glutton

The Triangle woke up to discover a blanket of white
Classes cancelled, businesses closed, what a fright
Didn't last long, as temperatures climbed the meter
But long enough to empty the bread aisle at Harris Teeter
Jackasses took to the road, making I-440 quite a sight

Shocking headlines from the scientific space
It seems pollution can quicken death's pace
So the environment is a big deal after all?
Will Congress heed this helpful warning call?
Clean air is good? That can't be the case

Hope returned to America on one fine day
How welcome I just don't have the words to say
For eight years, our leader caused pain and fear in the night
And yet now we can finally walk boldly out into that light
The road is long, but for one day we held cynicism at bay

Last time ...

"The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" Turns The Hourglass -- And Movie Magic -- Upside Down

"Our lives are defined by opportunities -- even the ones we miss."

For me, any discussion of this extraordinary movie comes along with a disclaimer. A couple of years back, I attended a wedding in New Orleans (where this happened) while "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" was in production there. On the way to the rehearsal dinner, traffic was being routed around certain parts of the city because they were filming a night scene. I later learned that they were most likely shooting the Benjamin-Daisy seduction scene in City Park, but ever since that brief coincidence, I've been following the marketing of the movie and keeping tabs on when it might be released.

With David Fincher directing and the remarkable Cate Blanchett ("Daisy") involved, you knew this was going to be a memorable flick, if nothing else. Throw in the tremendous Taraji P. Henson, who has made a career out of stealing scenes, as "Queenie" and an understated Julia Ormond as "Caroline," and the picture starts to take shape. The question surrounded Brad Pitt's casting as "Benjamin Button" as a character fated to live his life in reverse. It's a difficult role that holds the movie together, and Pitt has and always will have questionable — if not iffy — talents as an actor. And since the movie checked in at nearly three hours, if he missed the mark in this one, it could have degenerated into an interminable disaster.

With early- to mid-20th century New Orleans as the backdrop, a period peace that spans the globe, an interweaving of Hurricane Katrina into the plot, some incredible new filming techniques that captures facial deformation and changing, and a short story to base it all off, let's just say "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" was overly ambitious and could have fallen off the tracks in several aspects. Yet, somehow, the ambitious Fincher, together with Pitt and Blanchett, pulls this all off. Like so many sweeping period pieces of this type, perhaps this one will be remembered for being a fascinating tale more than a truly great movie.

There were many moments that were evocative of "Forrest Gump," and the last-words-of-an-essential-story-from-a-dying-woman's-bedside technique has been employed to varying success in "Titanic" and "Evening," among other movies. What helps to set "Benjamin Button" apart, however, are the cinematography that captured stunning sunrises in Lake Pontchartrain and the bayou, the beauty of New Orleans's Garden District, the grandeur of old Manhattan, the sweeping vistas of Paris, and the horrors of war on the Atlantic.


The opening scene shows us a blind clockmaker constructing an enormous clock for a brand-new train station in New Orleans. Having recently lost his son in World War I, the clockmaker designs his masterpiece to count time backwards, in hopes that going back in time will bring back his son and other dying soldiers. We then flash to August 2005, where a woman named Daisy is dying, and her daughter, Caroline is trying to say goodbye as Hurricane Katrina bears down on the Big Easy. Daisy asks her daughter to read to her from a diary that Caroline has never seen, and, predictably, Caroline discovers that her mother loved a whole life she never knew about -- or several lives, to be more accurate.

The story of Benjamin Button really starts in November of 1918, at the end of the first World War. We see a man running through Jackson Square to find his wife, who is dying in childbirth. In her last words, she makes her husband promise to care for the child, to make sure he "has a place." However, when the husband finds a son born with the grotesque appearance of an 86-year-old man, he first tries to throw the child into the Mississippi River, but then abandons him at a nursing home, where he's found by Queenie and her husband. (On a side note, you know how every three years or so, some old lady in Madagascar sees the likeness of the Virgin Mary in a potato chip? Well, the other evening I saw two overcooked potatoes that looked just like Benjamin Button as a child. So … miracles do happen and all that.)

Benjamin suffers many of the problems that one would imagine come along with being an old man trapped in a child's body, but he eventually grows a rip-roaring mullet and leaves New Orleans and his friends, including a young Daisy, behind by becoming a sailor on the tugboat Chelsea. He works under the charismatic and life-loving Captain Mike, who takes the odd and enigmatic Benjamin under his wing and shows him many, many "firsts." In defiance of his seafaring father, Captain Mike is an artist at heart, turning his body into his canvas with myriad tattoos, including a memorable one of a hummingbird. After a secretive, whirlwind affair with the wife of a British spy, Benjamin is thrust into the middle of World War II after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, along with his mates. Tasked with towing damaged American ships back to the country, the Chelsea eventually gets caught up in a firefight and sinks, with Captain Mike and most of the other sailors -- who had become Benjamin's de-facto family -- dying. The hummingbird, who will die if it ever stops flapping its wings, becomes a symbol of death for Benjamin, and after he's rescued, a hummingbird buzzes by him way out at sea.

Upon returning to New Orleans, Benjamin rekindles a friendship with a local button-maker, and unbeknownst to Benjamin, it is his father. Thomas Button has kept tabs on Benjamin throughout his life, and now near death, he reveals his true identity and bequeaths his booming button business to Benjamin. Another return reveals the death of Queenie ("It's a funny thing about comin' home. Looks the same, smells the same, feels the same. You'll realize what's changed is you."), the only family that Benjamin ever really knew. Now backtracking to near middle age, Benjamin pursues a start-and-stop relationship with Daisy, who has become a renowned dancer in New York with a taste for the fast life and easy loves. Eventually, as their ages finally meet in the middle, things click for the two, and the love-affair highlight of Benjamin's life ensues.


However, Benjamin's reaction to news of Daisy's pregnancy is bittersweet. He is haunted by thoughts that he'll be unable to be a father to his child, since he'll be regressing into childhood as his son or daughter grows. Daisy assures him that they'll find a way, but soon after Caroline is born, a strange, awkward scene is presented—without a word, Benjamin looks at his daughter and his wife and silently leaves in the dawn, hopping on his motorcycle and roaring off as Daisy looks on, shocked. To me, it seemed a little too easy for him to just walk away; I would think that the immediate bond that develops between a father and his daughter, and the thought that Benjamin finally has his own true family, would have at least made his decision to walk away more difficult. We know that what he is doing is probably technically best for all involved, but something in his behavior and decision-making process didn't ring true for me.

We follow Benjamin as he runs away to Southeastern Asia and India, among other places, always seeking something he can't quite reach. He eventually returns to New Orleans in 1980, appearing as a 25-year-old, and meets Daisy, who has since remarried, at her dance studio. Later, they share one more evening of passion in his hotel room as the reality that nothing lasts sinks in wistfully. Daisy's departure from the hotel, in which she doesn't speak a word and hardly meets Benjamin's eyes, echoes Benjamin leaving her and Caroline years before. Modern-day Caroline, who is dealing with the reality of the hurricane and her mother's impending death as she's experiencing the emotions of finally learning who her real father is, remembers meeting 25-year-old Benjamin and chastises her mother for keeping the truth from her. However, in the diary, she discovers a stack of touching postcards, one that Benjamin sent for every one of her birthdays, and they each name off another thing he wishes he could have done and experienced as her father.

As she continues reading, she learns of Benjamin's continued regression age- and maturity-wise. Suffering from dementia-like symptoms and homelessness, he eventually becomes a confused child, an angry toddler and then an infant, forcing Daisy to eventually move back into the nursing home to care for him in his final days. Painfully, we are shown Daisy teaching Benjamin to walk and talk, until he eventually gives her a look of recognition and passes away. As Caroline reaches the end of her reading, the hurricane is upon New Orleans and Daisy passes away, with her last action being to see a hummingbird flitting next to her hospital-room window before soaring away into the storm. The final scene is of the old backwards-running clock, sitting in the corner of a dusty basement, as the floodwaters lap at its edges, as Benjamin's final musings on what he learned and what his life meant reach our ears:

"Along the way you bump into people who make a dent on your life. Some people get struck by lightning. Some are born to sit by a river. Some have an ear for music. Some are artists. Some swim the English Channel. Some know buttons. Some know Shakespeare. Some are mothers. And some people can dance."


This was a movie that took nearly 15 years to progress from the idea for a remake to actual release. It was originally slated to be a Ron Howard movie starring John Travolta, eventually passed hands to Spike Jonez to direct, then finally landed in the lap of Fincher, who shot "Zodiac" first, then "Benjamin Button." Pitt likely took on the movie as a tribute to New Orleans, a place he has fallen in love with and has made a personal crusade to try to save.

I was unaware that this flick was "loosely based" on a short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald, written in 1921. In the book, Benjamin actually lives with his father instead of being abandoned by him, and he goes on to attend Harvard and become a football star until the demands of growing young make it impossible for him to compete or handle the workload. He fights in the Spanish-American War, gets married, has a son and is eventually cared for by that son as he grows younger and younger—eventually even attending kindergarten with his grandson.

I expected New Orleans to play an even larger role in this film, and based on the trailers, I expected it to be a little creepier. However, those expectations were happily discarded, and replaced by a near-epic masterwork of cinema magic. There are holes here and there and the obvious pervasive suspension of disbelief … but if you allow yourself to get swept away by the floodwaters and caught up in the tides of history and lost in the beauty of the bayou and of the intangible quality of those moments in our lives that are impactful in their purity and melancholy in their fleetingness, you'll let yourself believe for a moment.

And you'll be rewarded with an incredible movie experience.

The End Of An Error And The Dawn Of Hope

Symbolically, I'm hoping this clean snow that blankets us helps to cover up and wash away all the disgraceful mistakes and deceit of the last eight years.

I had toyed with the idea of attending Barack Obama's inauguration later today, but it seems about 2 million people beat me to the punch, and logistically, it just didn't work out. Since I can't be there, I'll think out loud of my hopes for what today could mean.

I hope our new leader can enhance and build on the good will and sense of optimism he's created.
I hope America begins to earn back respect -- it takes years to earn and one decision to throw it all away -- around the world.
I hope the economy begins to turn around and friends and loved ones who worry about their jobs will gradually have their concerns eased.
I hope there is a real commitment to addressing environmental concerns so we don't leave a smoking shell for our grandchildren.
I hope partisan politics takes a backseat to problems that can only be solved by multiparty collaboration.
I hope we take accountability for our embarrassing behavior in the world's eyes.
I hope we have the creativity and wherewithal to end this war peacefully and bring our dedicated troops back home.
I hope we center our focus on an educational system that is falling behind in some areas and broken in others.
I hope we remember New Orleans and stop treating her like someone we gave up on long ago.
I hope we address immigration in a way that allows all parties to retain their human dignity and sense of decency.
I hope the move toward volunteerism and charitable efforts takes hold.
I hope the promise of an amazing nation is realized, and the wasted and damaging actions of recent years is erased from the collective memory.
I hope Obama turns out to be who I think he is.

But most all, I hope. And it feels good just to be able to do that again.

Yes, we can.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXVIII: Pack In Need Of Jack Bauer At Point Guard

A season premier numbering hours of four
So much action an ADDer wouldn't think it a bore
A terrorist has control over the U.S.
A government dealing with a conspiracy mess
No, it's not "Groundhog Day," it's "24"

The Ravens let other teams fall on their sword
So many thugs and convicts, you say, "Dear lord"
The Cards left Delhomme with nothing to do but cry
The Iggles keep advancing, thanks to that choker Eli
The Steelers are so complete they almost make you bored

Last place in the ACC and still ranked five
The undefeated season has taken a nosedive
A team full of me-first prima donnas
Get pedicures and hang out in saunas
They've gone off the tracks like a car Phil Ford might drive

The Triangle to get nailed by an arctic blast
Temps under 30, who knows how long it will last
It's about time that it feels like winter around here
Water and milk will be gone thanks to widespread fear
If you share the road with terrified drivers, best to go fast

Against all odds, finally a role-model Seminole
Much to learn from the story of one Myron Rolle
He's decided to attend Oxford as a Rhodes scholar
Instead of chasing the NFL's almighty dollar
Not even Bobby Bowden could turn him into an asshole

A team strong of body, but with a mind weak
After 11 straight ACC losses, just a win they seek
The freshmen at least play like they care
The upperclassmen don't give Elon a scare
Sorry, Javy, but like a bad burrito, you reek

Last time …

Scooter & Hum's Top Five Books Of The Year '08

A little late, but here 'tis: the Scooties best books of the year are back! Enjoy …



1. "On the Road," by Jack Kerouac

The vision of Dean Moriarity hunched over the steering wheel, head stuck out the window, hurtling across the nation with a leer, is one of the most profound and enduring images in all of American literature. The book that cemented and defined the beat movement, Kerouac's tome—which he wrote in a staggering three weeks—seized me in a way that no book has since I read "Lord of the Flies" in a single night as a sophomore in high school. My only lament is that it took me so long to discover this masterpiece, which informed and defined an entire generation of artists. "On the Road" may just have become the best book that I have ever read.

Passage to remember:
"So in America when the sun goes down and I sit on the old broken-down river pier watching the long, long skies over New Jersey and sense all that raw land that rolls in one unbelievable huge bulge over to the West Coast, and all that road going, all the people dreaming in the immensity of it, and in Iowa I know by now the children must be crying in the land where they let the children cry, and tonight the stars'll be out, and don't you know that God is Pooh Bear? the evening star must be drooping and shedding her sparkler dims on the prairie, which is just before the coming of complete night that blesses the earth, darkens the rivers, cups the peaks and folds the final shore in, and nobody, nobody knows what's going to happen to anybody besides the forlorn rags of growing old, I think of Dean Moriarty, I even think of old Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty."



2. "Water for Elephants," by Sara Gruen

A poignant and lively tale that encompasses the wistfulness of growing old, the dreams of forgotten youth and the tangible beauty of the in-between, "Water for Elephants" was a delightful surprise to read. It's amazing qualities held even more meaning to me since the first draft of this book was written by Gruen in a month-long novel-writing contest called NanoWrimo, which I have participated in and completed. The adventures of Jacob Jankowski (partially based on the biblical story of Jacob) as a love-struck veterinarian, balanced against his funeral-home fight to retain his relevance, makes for one of the more memorable reads of 2008.

Passage to remember:
“My real stories are all out of date. So what if I can speak firsthand about the Spanish flu, the advent of the automobile, world wars, cold wars, guerrilla wars, and Sputnik-that’s all ancient history now. But what else do I have to offer? Nothing happens to me anymore.”



3. "The Audacity of Hope," by Barack Obama

I'm not here to tell you that "The Audacity of Hope" is a quintessential literary achievement; I'm not going to posit that it boasts sweeping turns of phrase or heart-stopping prose. But I am here to tell you that, in sheer terms of powerful messaging and ability to restore a little optimism to a wounded country, yes, Obama's book represented a defining occasion for this year. On a personal level, this book ranks here on this list due to the effect that it had on me, as someone who was searching for a brave candidate capable of holding up a searchlight in our nation's befuddled, painful darkness. I read it, and I knew.

Passage to remember:
"For I am getting to an age where I have a sense of what satisfies me, and although I am perhaps more tolerant of compromise … I know that my satisfaction is not to be found in the glare of television cameras or the applause of the crowd. Instead, it seems to come more often now from knowing that in some demonstrable way I've been able to help people live their lives with some measure of dignity. I think of what Benjamin Franklin wrote to his mother, explaining why he had devoted so much of his time to public service: 'I would rather have it said, He lived usefully, than, He died rich.'"



4. "Dubliners," by James Joyce

I had been disappointed in my own relative lack of familiarity with this landmark author, and with a trip to Ireland upcoming, I took it upon myself to check out the catalog of one of Dublin's most famous natives. "Dubliners" is a collection of short stories and sketches, making it a much less daunting read than the epic "Ulysses." It certainly piqued my interest in Joyce, added to the excitement of visiting his museum in Dublin and helped prepare for some day tackling "Ulysses" (*gulp*).

Passage to remember (from "The Dead"):
"His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."



5. "Duma Key," by Stephen King

This King novel is very much a psychological thriller, and while there were points at the end where I felt the story broke down somewhat, it was one of the better King efforts I have read of late. Edgar Freemantle had his highly successful life, career and family taken away from him in a horrific accident, but in exchange, he has discovered an incredible artistic gift. The pursuit of this new talent leads him to an isolated area of the Florida Keys, where he discovers his true self, a portal to an older world and many mysteries. One has to think that this is another King tome that is informed by his own personal brush with death in the late '90s, and it's a very enjoyable and worthwhile read.

Passage to remember:
"How do we remember to remember? That's a question I've asked myself often since my time on Duma Key, often in the small hours of the morning, looking up into the absence of light, remembering absent friends. Sometimes in those little hours I think about the horizon. You have to establish the horizon. You have to mark the white. A simple enough act, you might say, but any act that re-makes the world is heroic. Or so I've come to believe."


Editor's Note: I also made my way through Ernest Hemingway's "A Farewell to Arms," but I was underwhelmed, as I often am in turning back to Ernie. I also tried to hammer through "Armies of the Night" by Norman Mailer, but I gave up halfway through. I figgered I deal with enough pretentiousness, in writing and otherwise, to the point where I don't need to invite it into my spare time. "Meat Market" by Bruce Feldman was a quick, easy read about the ugly truths involved in college football recruiting, especially in the SEC, written from within the confines of former coach Ed Orgeron's Ole Miss program. Also, most of the latter part of '08 involved me slogging my way through "War and Peace" by Leo Tolstoy, with the fruits being much worth the work.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXVII: More Buckeye Misery, Plus Barkley Uses Fave Five To Call Chico's Bail Bonds

Another heartbreaking loss in a BCS game for those poor Bucks
Gotta admit seeing their fans crying again gave me lotsa yucks
This one was a lot closer, making Texas fans say, "Oh boy!"
But OSU folded in the final seconds to one Colt McCoy
Back to C-bus they go, greeted by fans saying, "Ohio State sucks"

The economy only worsens as the holidays pass
Now it's Lenovo kicking workers square in the ass
Sounds like Literace got thrown off a sinking boat
Left to float on the top of his glittery dream coat
How many former MSIers got laid off en masse?

Boston College says goodbye to Coach Jags
Got shitcanned for talking to Jets fans wearing bags
The Eagles are saying, "Jags, we hardly knew ye"
Two for two on ACC title games, coulda made it three
B.C. fans got what they deserved, those bean-eatin' fags

Oklahoma gave it away to Florida's thugs
Tebow loves circumcisions, touchdowns and hugs
How did Ron Cherry wind up as the ref?
He's blind and about as qualified as Hef
If you think there shouldn't be a playoff, you gotta be on drugs

Poor effort by my Dolphins upon finally making the postseason
Four picks from Chad Pennington was a big part of the reason
Spent too much time before the game with a hair curler
Then after kickoff, promptly turned into the Hebrew Hurler
Expecting even more in '09, and no, Sparano, I ain't teasin'

A DUI for the "Round Mound of Rebound"
Chuck's career bottoming out was the sound
Was chilling with Strahan and freaking Urkel—no joke
After the racism fires at Auburn he did stoke
His only role model is John Daly, who's almost as round

Last time …

Season’s Over, But Battle Continues For Wolfpack Hero Yow

Sometimes someone emerges who transcends sport, gender, race, region or institution, a singular person capable of inspiring all of us, in all walks of life. Over the past few years, longtime NC State women’s basketball coach Kay Yow has become such a person, and the secret of what an incredible person she is has been shared on a national stage.

One could argue that Yow has been one of the five most influential leaders not only for women’s basketball, but in women’s sports as a whole. Yet it is her long fight with breast cancer that has truly catapulted her onto the national stage.

That spotlight burns even hotter this week, thanks to the news that Yow is stepping down as coach of the Wolfpack Women for the remainder of the season. She had missed four straight games while dealing with low energy levels that come along with battling Stage IV breast cancer. The 66-year-old, in consultation with her doctor, agreed that it was time to focus on monitoring her health instead of enduring the trying, emotional, energy-draining task of running a major Division I-A athletics program.

There are many close to the situation who believe that coaching is what is keeping Yow alive these days, which makes the decision that much more serious and emotional. The hope is that she’ll be able to attend a game or two every now and again to let her players — who view her often as a mother or even a grandmother — know that she is still there, still fighting, still hoping, still trying, still invested.

Yow is undoubtedly and unquestionably an inspiration and a role model, regardless of whether you’re white, black or green, man or woman, or what your school affiliation may be. If you’re so inclined, check out the important work being done by the Kay Yow/WBCA Cancer Fund and consider making a donation. Or even drop Coach a line to let her know that you’re thinking of her and her all-important fight.

These days, you won’t come across many more worthy of your thoughts and wishes.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXVI: A Bounceback Is Mine In '09

Lots of changes took place in '08
A new home, a new life and fate
Sweet Gallo lost way too soon
We miss him morning, night and noon
High hopes for '09, of this there's no debate

The new year brought a PGA suspension for Hooters fan JD
And a reminder of the douchiness of his namesake, Carson Daly
Poor Dick Clark was painful to watch
Difficult to hear the words he did botch
But the Backstreet Boys and Jonas Brothers got along gaily

A record 10 teams went to a bowl from the ACC
But they went 4-6 with lots of debacles to see
LSU beat the crap out of Georgia Tech
When Wilson got hurt, State said, "What the heck"
I guess it's hoops time on Tobacco Road, woe is me

Got the Comeback Player of the Year
A team that turned the league on its ear
Only the Tuna doesn't seem on board
It seems he only wants money to hoard
Oh well, being an underdog again is nothing to fear

A new hope for Scooter in a brutal economy
Back to writing a press release or three
A PR gig back in the pharma space
Thankful for another cubicle place
Shout out to my writer friends, it'll get better, you'll see

It's high time for the return of Lost
All my frustrations have now been tossed
I'm still a little bit in shock
Over the sight of a dead Locke
They finally left the island, but at what cost?

Last time …

Despite The Excitement Of A Long-Awaited Playoff Run, No. 54 Is Noticeable By Its Absence

Obviously, after seven long years out of the postseason, 'Fins Nation is ecstatic to be back in the playoffs. But amidst the euphoria and the head-shaking reality that this team went from one win to 11 in the span of a year, there has seemed to be something missing this week that I couldn't put my finger on.

And then it occurred to me.

Zach Thomas.

Because this is a team that he would have been proud to have been a part of. This was the gritty, physical, hard-working, never-stop-fighting, underdog squad that embodied everything that his playing career has been about. If anyone deserved to be a part of this celebration, it was a former fifth-round pick who had his head run over as a tot and had always been told that he was too small and too slow.

Through 11 seasons and seven Pro Bowls in Miami, Thomas was the spokesman of the team after Dan Marino's departure. He was refreshingly honest and self-deprecating, a guy you could pull for on a team full of underachievers, castoffs and bad decisions.

In late February, the new regime came in, and Thomas got thrown out with the bath water. It was an understandable move and simply a by-product of change, but it still didn't feel good to see No. 54 take down his parking-space sign, clean out his locker and head back to Texas.

It feels even worse to be rooting on the Dolphins at this time when you see what happened to Thomas. He signed on with the Cowboys, the preseason Super Bowl picks, a franchise loaded with high-priced talent and the shiniest of stars. He was the old Subaru Brat in a parking lot full of tricked-out Mercedes; he was the T-shirt and jeans in a room full of Technicolor dreamcoats and bling.

It didn't feel right to see him on a team with T.O., Pacman Jones, Tank Johnson and other divas and thugs. But he deserved a shot at a ring, you told yourself, and he was a Texas native as well. So you wished him well and hoped he got what he wanted, and you nodded your head and thanked him when he said he would "always be a Miami Dolphin."

But then, even as the 'Fins reeled off nine wins in 10 games to end the season, you couldn't help notice Dallas falling apart and attacking itself from within. And it turned out you were right all along; the pathetic Cowboys were not the right fit for him. He didn't belong in a locker room full of selfish, egotistical, heartless, gutless players. He shouldn't have been a part of this forgettable group of headline-chasing frauds and chokers. He deserved more, and better.


He should have been a Dolphin — because he is the anti-Cowboy. He should have reveled in this memorable playoff run and been the one in the corner of the room with tears in his eyes as the "2008 AFC East Champions" hats were passed around.

He earned it. Over and over.

Zach posted 94 tackles and a sack for Dallas this year, in 14 starts, passable stats for a 35-year-old. But you wonder if the disillusionment that must have set in this year may help force him out of the game; you can't help but think that he would rather hang up his cleats then go through another circus in Jerry Jones's laughable, Botox-ridden world.

I wish I didn't have to look at No. 54's old jersey in my closet as I gear up for the first playoff game in many, many years. I wish Miami could somehow sign him tomorrow so he could experience another shot at chasing the Lombardi Trophy.

But the team can't and he can't, and the Dolphins will line up on Sunday in the playoffs without Zach manning the middle. And I'll be cheering them on as hard as I can.

Even though, in the back of my mind, it will be hard not to notice that someone is missing.

Wilson's Knee, Short Round's Kicks End Wolfpack's Miraculous Turnaround

For the first time in my life, I watched a football game where one of my teams was involved and had an 11-point halftime lead and knew — simply knew — that we were going to lose. The second that it was announced that Russell Wilson was out for the second half with a knee sprain after once again toying with another team like he was playing Tecmo Bowl, I knew the game was over. Even if Rutgers had Short Round kicking field goals and extra points.

With the worst punter in America, a pot-bellied backup quarterback who did his best Billy Joe Hobert impression (Hobert once famously admitted that he didn't know the gameplan when he was put into a game for the Buffalo Bills), a 109-pound third-stringer who can only throw passes off his back foot and an exhausted defense, the Pack simply didn't have it. Hope flickered when State regained the lead late, but even that was stymied when the Wolfpack mind-numbingly burned a timeout to run an unsuccessful two-point try that it didn't need anyway. State made its hay in the second half of the season playing mistake-free football, and knew it had to be nearly perfect to win games. That ended quickly against the Scarlet Knights.

It was an admittedly shoddy way to end a season that had gone from 2-6 to a bowl game, but it's hard not to be super-pumped about NC State's future. With Wilson returning and addition by subtraction in the form of certain punters and safeties, the Pack will be a factor from jumpstreet in '09, if it can simply avoid the injuries and bad starts that have hampered the team for the past two seasons.

For now, Wolfpack Nation will simply have to hold its breath for a while pending the outcome of the MRI on Wilson's knee. Knowing the Amato curses and our history of injuries in both sports, optimism doesn't exactly abound.

Now, if Wilson can only learn how to slide. As a second baseman, you figger he would have that down pat … but something tells me he'll learn it toot-sweet, even if it means Tommy O'Irish has to demonstrate himself.

From Rotten Fish To Tuna Caviar: The Story Of The 2007-2008 Miami Dolphins

In one memorable afternoon, the Dolphins not only completed the most improbable one-season turnaround in arguably the history of sports with a 24-17 victory over the Jets in the Meadowlands. They not only went from one win to 11, from league laughingstock to division champions. They not only tied an NFL record for fewest turnovers in a season with just 13. They not only boast the shoo-in NFL Coach of the Year in Tony Sparano.

On top of all of those things, they pulled off the sweetest of hat tricks:

1. They knocked the hated Jets out of the playoffs on their home field.
2. They eliminated the cheatin' Patsies from the postseason.
3. They embarrassed and ended the career of one Butt Fraud, who likely spent most of last night being comforted as the pastrami in a Jim Nance-Phil Simms sandwich.

It's been seven years since the 'Fins had a meaningful game to play, and in this de-facto playoff contest, Miami wasn't going to be denied. From undrafted free agents like wideout Devone Bess and kicker Dan Carpenter to up-until-now disappointing draftees like Philip Merling to sage trade pickups like Anthony Fasano and Akin Ayodele (both for a fourth-rounder? Are you f'ing kidding me?), they all had a part in this. They all bought into what Sparano told them all year long, and reiterated in the bowels of the Meadowlands: "Don't let anyone ever say you can't do something."

Indeed.

Why not us? Why not now?

I believe. Now let's get back to business.

Bring on the Ravens. We're already underdogs again. Just where we want to be.

2008 AFC East Champs – MIAMI DOLPHINS

Blind Midget Patrol, Andre Johnson Venture Out Into Traffic Without A Cane

After a sterling stretch run, the Midgies pulled a disappearing act when it mattered most, folding like a cheap suit in the championship game against a quality opponent. BMP lost by 16 points, 98-82, and that's with a rousing three combined points from my two starting wide receivers and my placekicker. I played golf the morning of the title contest and didn't return in time to remove Arizona's Neil Rackers from my lineup, and since he was playing in a Snow Bowl in Beantown, I knew his production would be nada against the Patsies. However, I did drill a 35-foot birdie putt during my round, so it was prolly worth being unable to make a change at the kicker position on my fantasy football team.

What really kicked Blind Midget Patrol in the cornflakes was the milk-carton-worthy effort of Houson's Andre Johnson, my second-half MVP. After torching defenses each and every week, when push came to shove, A.J. bitched me with a whopping two catches for 17 yards—all in the third quarter. When Devin Hester (my brother, a long-suffering Bears fan, calmly put me in place by asking, "You have a Chicago Bears wide receiver on your fantasy football team?!) racked up a point all by himself a night later in subfreezing weather, I knew I was done. It was risky running Hester out there, but he has been due for a long return TD for about a year, he usually comes up big in prime-time games and my big-name draftee at the spot, Roy E. Williams, has been tanking worse than Ohio State in an important game all season long. Even more frustrating is the fact that Hester constantly blows by opposing secondaries, only to have quarterback Kyle Orton throw fluttering moon balls in his general direction that always fall harmlessly to the turf 20 yards behind Hester. I contemplated putting surprisingly resurgent Ravens wideout Derrick Mason out there, but he has been injured and, well, he plays for the Ravens. Oh well.


Throw in the fact that the Texans defense decided not to show up against a horrific Raiders offense, LaDainian Tomlinson continued his weak showings and Michael "The Burner" Turner had a touchdown vultured by Jerrious Norwood, and the writing was on the wall for BMP. Train-wreck fascinated by the fact that New Orleans continued to throw the ball all over the field against a winless Lions team despite an insurmountable late lead, I flipped over to see some of that contest, only to see my opponent's star wideout, Marques Colston, catch two touchdown passes very late, when the game was well out of reach. The Saints's bad sportsmanship, combined with my zero production from three key positions, basically handed the trophy to my foe, so hats off to him. He did have a strong team.

But my guys don't leave without some hardware of their own. I bestow the annual Antonio Gates Memorial M.I.A. Award, sponsored by the Greater Buffalo Area Jim Kelly Hardware Emporium—the trophy is a silver choke chain on top of a platinum milk carton—to Andre Johnson, for unparalleled choking at vital moments in fantasy football championship games.

I'll take my $20 runner-up fee and print out some "Missing" posters for you, Andre.

Bastard.

I Find Tinsel Distracting

With a nod of the head to Frank Costanza ("I find your belief system fascinating"), I wish you all a Happy Festivus for the rest of us!

From the "airing of grievances" to a simple aluminum pole to "feats of strength," I hope your Festivus is lively and humorous, and that it doesn't find you raining blows upon fellow shoppers as you fight for a boy's doll.

And if you would like a really good goddam laugh, check out these "Airings of Grievances."

Giddyup …

Holidays Be Damned, Brees And The Bad-Form Saints Scrooge The Winless Lions In Pursuit Of Stats

Drew Brees must really hate the Miami Dolphins.

Heading into the 2001 draft, I thought the 'Fins had a great chance to land Purdue quarterback Drew Brees. Not only was Miami in dire need of a promising young signal-caller in the wake of Dan Marino's retirement, but Brees represented good value late in the first round as a polished, accurate passer who had proven his mettle in the Big 10, which way back then was a more-than-respectable football conference.

Long story short, Dave Wannstache decided that using a first-round pick on a zone cornerback so he could plug him in as a nickel corner in a man-to-man defense was a strong move, so he snared Jamar Fletcher from Wisconsin. Three years, two interceptions and six starts later, Fletcher was shipped off to San Diego for a nondescript quarterback named Cleo Lemon and a late-round draft pick. Adding insult to injury, Fletcher became teammates with one Drew Brees in San Diego.


Five years later, the Dolphins had a chance to right that wrong—for FREE. Not very often does a team get the equivalent of a do-over in the NFL, but in 2006, Miami had a shot to grab Brees in free agency, after the Chargers had decided to let him go in favor of NC State grad Philip Rivers. Brees was coming off a shoulder injury, but wanted to come to Miami, was willing to accept a fair offer and would require no compensation in the form of draft picks. Instead, in a mind-boggling move that was as ridiculous at the time as it looks now, new 'Fins coach Nick Satan Saban passed up on Brees in order to draft Daunte Culpepper, a fat, overrated, undisciplined, slow-learning quarterback coming off a horrific knee injury. As the cherry on top, Culpepper wanted a huge contract and his current team, the Minnesota Vikings, needed a precious second-round draft pick in return.

Hmmm. Accurate, young, intelligent quarterback with a good prognosis to return from his injury for less money and no draft picks or an inaccurate, unintelligent athlete with a bad prognosis to return for more money and a second-rounder? Well, the Nicktator chose poorly, which has become a metaphor for his life.

Now, Brees is in the midst of his fourth straight 4,000-yard season, and he's trying to stick it to the 'Fins again by waging a full-out assault on one of the game's most untouchable records—Miami legend "Dandy" Dan Marino's epic 5,084-yard performance in 1984 (he also has the No. 5 single-season yardage total of all-time) during what remains the greatest passing performance by the greatest quarterback in history.


By all accounts, Brees is a good guy, giving back to the hurricane-averaged New Orleans region and serving as an inspirational leader on a team that has long lacked one.

However.

The Saints and Brees have had their eye on Marino's record all season long, leading to a lot of garbage-time passing. Through 15 games, Brees has already thrown the ball 586 times—more than Marino's 564 for the entire '84 season. New Orleans has been an enormous disappointment, so this year has seen a lot of Brees throwing and throwing and throwing some more, even as the Saints trail by many points and backups should have been in the game.

The topper, however, came on Sunday, as Brees & Co. victimized the hapless Detroit Lions, who were on their way to their 15 straight loss without a victory this season. The Saints opened up an obviously insurmountable 42-7 lead halfway through the final quarter, sewing up an ignominious (I know what that means) record for the Lions, who became the first NFL team to ever go 0-15. With New Orleans also out of the playoff hunt, coach Sean Payton obviously put in his reserves and younger players to get some action, right?

No.

Instead, up five touchdowns with the clock winding down, Brees was still throwing passes. Yes, you read that right. As much grief as the Patsies took last year—and deservedly so—for running up the score on teams, the Saints shouldn't be off-limits, even though they're far from the spotlight. I mean, even that thing on his cheek was telling Brees it was time to shut it down and give his arm a rest for a while.


I wouldn't have blamed a member of the Lions for taking a late shot at Brees late in that contest, down 42-7 with the anchor of an 0-15 season already hanging around your neck. Then, the uproar would have been about how a Detroit player took out one of the game's stars instead of questions about why Brees is still rifling passes around the stadium for purely selfish and personal reasons. New Orleans's tactic is one used by UNC's Roy Williams, who tends to leave his star players on the court way too long in blowouts, opening them up for possible injury.

These coaches forget that while the opposition may not have talent, they do have pride. And usually, especially in the NFL, what comes around goes around. So kudos to Brees, who needs 401 yards next week against the Panthers to tie Marino's record. It seems pretty important to him to get a record in the wrong and meaningless way. One would think that a franchise that has been through such rough times—both on and off the field—of late would have a little humility in these situations, a little empathy for the plight of the Lions, a little sportsmanship for the good of the game.

But maybe not, right Saints?

Merry Christmas, Detroit. Sorry about that … and good luck getting that first win in your last game.

Some of us still realize that spirit and class can go a long way.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXV: Butch Davis Is Only Good At Math When It Comes To Raises

Over-recruiting headed up by UNC's shady Bitch
For scholarship rules and math he doesn't give a stitch
"I'm sorry it's not going to work out," he tells a third-stringer
"We need your scholarship for a freshman humdinger"
The waiver wire is in effect as loyalty gets tossed in the ditch

Auburn hired some dude named Gene Chizik
A 5-19 record made fans give him the business
Gave the boot to Tuberville, Tommy
Since 'Bama had passed him like a tsunami
Now they hire a guy who is far from the shiznit

Drama is in full effect on the PGA Tour
Golf nowadays is anything but a boor
Tiger's caddy calls Mickelson a prick
Paddy Harrington thinks Sergio is a dick
Ready to see a fight in the teebox? Fore!

More sketchy doings going on over on the Hill
Haven't learned from the Joe Forte debacle, still?
The school has given Hansbrough's mommy a new job
At the School of Dentistry, where she can hobnob
Plenty o' Novocain for rickets, for both Tyler and his Will

The most versatile player in history, according to the NFL
He passed, kicked and intercepted until many records fell
Even played minor-league baseball for a while
'Til he took football by storm in his own unique style
R.I.P. to Slingin' Sammy Baugh … what stories he could tell

Last time …

Blind Midget Patrol Braces For Showdown

On Sunday I'll be playing for the championship of my 12-team ESPN league, with the hopes of salvaging a frustrating, disappointing and controversial fantasy football year. I'll be chasing my sixth fantasy football title over the past five years or so, so it would be a nice one to take down.

That being said, my opponent has a pretty loaded team, as well as a pretty disturbing and gay-ish team name of My Johnson Goes Deep. Even if your last name happened to actually be Johnson, it would still be creepy and sophomoric. With an unrelated name (which is the case here), well … let's just say this sounds like someone who has an unsurpassed knowledge of Megan's Law.

With Manning, Portis, Boldin, Ronnie Brown, etc., I have to respect the depth and talent of his squad. As a result, I have to be right on time with my roster decisions this week, and after adding Matt Cassel (really? He was available?) in a shrewd move recently, I have the happy problem of choosing between:

Matt Cassel at home vs. Arizona

OR

Matt Schaub against Oakland on the road

I should say that I've hitched my wagon to Schaub over the past two weeks and he's come up with one tremendous performance and another that was more than respectable. Also, with arguably the league's best wideout, Andre Johnson, on both my team and his, I've been able to double up on points generated from their connection.


However, Oakland's problem this year has certainly not been on defense. They're actually pretty underrated and stout on that side of the ball, so even tho the Raiders don't have anything to play for and the Texans are fighting to cling to tiny playoff hopes, I could still see the air attack struggling somewhat on Sunday. In that scenario, I'm leery of having two players (Schaub and AJohnson) suffering from the possibility of a poor offensive showing.

Cassel has been lights-out as well, and Patsies-Cardinals would figger to be a shootout, considering New England is in the playoff hunt as well and Arizona was embarrassed last week by Minnesota. Also, Cassel is a pretty accomplished runner, providing the possibility that he could score on the ground as well; meanwhile, Schaub is injury-prone and one hit away from yielding to Sage Rosenfels.

To a lesser extent, I'm also pondering:

Chicago defense/special teams vs. Green Bay

OR

Houston defense/special teams at Oakland

The Texans D/ST was another pickup for me this week, and I'm certainly leaning that way. On the other hand, the Bears were destroyed at Lambeau earlier this year, and I'm sure they'd love nothing more than to pound the Packers into submission in what is sure to be a cold and possibly snowy Monday night game. Chicago is also always a threat to score in the return game or on defense, even tho I counteract that somewhat with Devin Hester, who always seems to shine in primetime games.

With a little cabbage on the line and some interesting choices to debate, I'm more than happy to hear any thoughts, tidbits, opinions or even jokes. Have at it, and …

GO BLIND MIDGET PATROL!