CONS: Reasons Why Tony Sparano Should Lose His Job In Miami

To paraphrase “Animal House,” boring, losing and conservative is no way to go through life, son. And it has to suck to be Tony Sparano when you’re asked by your owner how in christ’s name you managed to lose to Cleveland, Buffalo and Detroit AT HOME in December. Yet that’s the position he finds himself in these days, with one game left in a season that might be break-even at best.

Yesterday, I took a look at some of the reasons why Sparano could keep his job. In the interest of being fair and balanced (#FeauxNewsjoke), today I offer up just as many reasons why he’ll find himself watching “Sparanos” reruns this offseason instead of game film.

His support is gone. Let’s face it: Sparano was a relative nobody who was hand-picked by a fraud in Bill Parcells. Who is left to have his back, really?

He’s with a franchise where learning on the job isn’t acceptable. Sparano had never even been a coordinator on the NFL level when he was tabbed for the Dolphins job. A lot went very right in his first season, but ever since, Miami’s been run of the mill and he hasn’t established a strong identity as a coach. At what point do you realize that you’re simply hoping that he becomes a good coach and then realize that, as many sales bibles repeat, hope isn’t a strategy?

His specialty has become a weak link. An offensive line coach by trade, Sparano encouraged the Dolphins to spend tons of resources up front. Yet outside of the tackles -- Jake Long and Vernon Carey -- the team has been dominated on the interior, leading to an inability to protect the passer and establish a ground game. Considering the amount of money and the number of draft picks invested along the offensive line, this should at least be the strongest unit on the team, if not in the league. Instead, it’s a borderline disaster, which might be one of the biggest disappointments of the Sparano tenure.

He’s too conservative. Michael Lombardi of NFL Network called Miami a “field goal offense,” and that is as apt a description as I’ve heard. The Dolphins have pissed away a number of games that they dominated throughout simply due to the fact that they play for field goals, leaving themselves no room for error. If that approach is due to personnel, that’s no excuse -- it is his personnel. And I would say that seemingly being willing to allow Chad Henne to drag him onto the unemployment line with him fits under this category as well.

He’s too reliant on Cowboy castoffs. Yes, both Bill Parcells and general manager Jeff Ireland came from Dallas along with Sparano, but Sparano is the guy who signs off on personnel moves. Way too often, this group has targeted rejects from Dallas, and when those guys lose jobs to Cowboys players that brutally underachieved this year, that tells you everything. Unfortunately, this brings back memories of Prick Saban drafting only SEC players or kids he recruited once upon a time, one of the many reasons for his cowardly departure.

He’s a horribly bad fit for the new ownership. Steve Ross announced his arrival at Dolphins headquarters by courting every Latino pop star and C-list celeb who would answer his calls. He’s Little Havana’s answer to Jerry Jones, more interested in the glitz, glam and pub than football. So, needless to say, an owner looking to turn Miami football into an event (like Heat basketball) isn’t going to fall in love with a coach who looks more like a sanitation worker in clothes that don’t fit and loves to play for field position and 13-9 victories. The bottom line is Ross wants to fill seats, and Sparano’s style simply isn’t going to make that an achievable priority.

His tenuous status is already working against him. With all the hubbub about when, not if, he’ll be shit-canned, Sparano finds himself in an exceedingly difficult position: Who is going to want to join the staff of a potentially dead-man-walking coach when offensive coordinator Dan Henning retires after this season? Better yet, what top candidate will want to come when they may -- legitimately -- feel they have a better resume for the head coaching job than the current coach does?

He’s done little to justify passing up sure-thing candidates. The presence of proven commodities like Bill Cowher and Jon Gruden sitting in announcing booths thinking about which job they’d like best hurts young, unproven coaches like Sparano more than most. You have to think some franchise is going to be willing to be a year early in giving up on a coach so as not to miss out on guys like Cowher and Gruden, who likely won’t be around if you need to let Sparano go next year. And to be brutally honest, Sparano simply hasn’t given any reasons to believe a Dolphins team under his leadership would be better in 2011 than one led by someone like Cowher or Gruden.

He’s got a moustache. I like Sparano, I do; but the motorcycle-cop look is pretty hard to take seriously on an NFL sideline. And to be perfectly honest, Miami has already failed in a really, really big way with a mustachioed coach in Dave Wannstedt. The bottom line is Sparano should have shaved the ‘stache the day he got the job.

So there you have it: Nine reasons Sparano will lose his job vs. nine reasons he’ll keep it. We’ll find out in a matter of days which argument wins out in the end.

PROS: Reasons Why Tony Sparano Should Keep His Job In Miami

On the heels of wrapping up a 1-7 home record and in danger of a second consecutive losing season headed into the finale Sunday, Tony Sparano is in more danger than (#mandatorysopranosjokefollows) “Big Pussy” was after being discovered as a rat. Everyone from Bill Cowher to Jon Gruden to Brian Billick has been discussed as a potential successor, but in this immediate-news world, folks are picking over Sparano’s bones way too early. So I offer up a “Pros” list for why Miami might retain Sparano.

He’s fiery and no-nonsense. Yes, his fist pumps for field goals are becoming the butts of jokes, but that’s what happens when you’re losing. He’s emotional, and I think that’s a good thing for a franchise and a fanbase that has had to fabricate energy over the past dozen years or more.

He’s offensive-minded. OK, fill in your own jokes here, because Miami has been admittedly moribund (yep, I like that word) this year. But for too long, the Dolphins have relied on defensive-minded coaches and philosophies, and if the team could just find a quarterback it trusts, it would be refreshing to have a guy who understands and respects that side of the ball.

He’s proven himself willing to make moves on his staff. Jettisoning Paul Pasqualoni and replacing him with Mike Nolan as defensive coordinator was one of the only bright spots of the 2010 campaign. He changed out special teams coaches midseason when the third phase cost Miami a couple of early games. Of course, the pessimist could argue that he’s putting the wrong guys in place to begin with, but I respect a coach who recognizes a problem and is willing to rectify it.

He deserves a season outside of Parcells’s shadow. He and general manager Jeff Ireland were initially labeled the “Tuna Helpers,” seen only as sycophantic “yes” men for Bill Parcells. With Parcells slinking out of town a failure, quitting on the team he was trying to create, it could be argued that Sparano and Ireland have earned the right to have an offseason and regular season without the Tuna around. This is also another way of saying that it’s too soon, that three years isn’t long enough to determine his worth as a coach despite the troubling trending in the win-loss column.

He treats the fans and media with respect. This is a small thing, seemingly and admittedly, but I spend a lot of money and time following this team. There have been way too many douchebags coaching the Dolphins since Shula left, so I can appreciate the way Sparano interacts with the local scribes, although that relationship has been strained as the losses have mounted. So even though this doesn’t impact the bottom line of wins and losses, I’m still including it because it is important to me to have a coach that I can respect as a person.

His players respect him. This is another welcome change, considering that I got the sense that the players lost respect for Jimmy Johnson (quitter), Nick Saban (insufferable douche) and Cam Cameron (in over his head) in recent years. Sparano has demanded and would have appeared to have earned the respect of his players, and I think that deserves a check mark in his favor.

He wears his sunglasses at night. ‘Nuff said.

He loses weight the right way. Hear that, “Lapband Larry” up there in New York?

He doesn’t broadcast a foot fetish. OK, so this is just another F you to Rex Ryan. I've earned that.

So there you have it: nine iffy reasons that Tony Sparano could earn another year as the head of the Dolphins. Stay tuned for the, um, other side of the argument.

Festivus Is Who We Are

So my company holds a cubicle-decorating contest every year. This year, I won in the category of Best Theme. My theme, obviously, was Festivus. Another Festivus miracle.

Happy Festivus to you and yours ...

Deep Thoughts By No-Look McFadden: Episode 36

#1
The alphabet according to Star Wars? “A is for Ackbar”? Sign me the F up. Very cool and clever.

#2
In the time before he became a quarterback-butt-licking announcer, Ron Jaworski could sling it a bit himself, earning the nickname “The Polish Rifle” during his days with the Philadelphia Iggles. Along those lines, hugely bearded Buffalo signal-caller Ryan Fitzpatrick has gained the moniker, “The Amish Rifle.” Tremendous.

#3
Ever seen an incredible underwater sculpture? This is certainly one of those situations where the picture speaks for itself. Wow.

#4
Dear Sidney Lowe,
Consider this your official warning that any seat you sit on over the next four months will be hot to the touch.
Love and holiday cheer,
Debbie Yow

#5
Say, Donovan McNabb? In the wake of losing your job to Rex Grossman, even Butt Favre thinks it’s high time you called it quits.

#6
Twice in the last couple of weeks, coworkers have claimed that they didn’t complete a project because they didn’t save their work and “lost” it. Um, didn’t that excuse lose any relevancy like a decade ago? How could anyone possibly not save their work in this day and age? Is that the equivalent of “My dog ate my homework” these days?

#7
I keep hearing Rams coach Steve Spagnuolo getting touted for NFL Coach of the Year honors. Yes, he’s had quite a turnaround there in St. Louis, but has there ever been a Coach of the Year who finished the season with a losing record?!
As opposed to the ACC, where they like to shit-can their coaches of the year, then get them cast on “Biggest Loser.”

#8
So Justin Timberlake is unveiling a line of biker gear-themed clothing exclusively for Target. Because that’s where most of the “Sons of Anarchy” and “Hell’s Angels” do their road-wear shopping. Jeezus, can someone just end this jackass already?

#9
A week and a half after undergoing an emergency appendectomy, Matt Cassel started at quarterback for Kansas City and endured a number of tremendous shots without flinching. Matt Cassel is tough.

#10
Another pet peeve: People who use the phrase, “I kid you not.” Really? And is there a reason you decided to turn into fucking Yoda for no reason whatsoever?

"Rudolph" Meets The Police

The animated "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" was one of my childhood favorites -- hell, who am I kidding, it still is. But despite the dozens of times I've seen it, I never caught on to the fact that Burl Ives can straight pick it on the banjo!

Happy holidays ...

Better Anti-Theft Deterrents

Take note, ADT.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXVIII: Scarlett Needs Consoling, Plus Jets Douchebag Wiseguy Should Be Shitcanned

Her marriage ends in two years
A good run for celebrity peers
To dear Scarlett I say
Don’t trust Canadians … eh?
I’m happy to wipe away those tears

SMU cheated every way under the sun
But you know, at least they won
Are they listening in Chapel Hill today?
Or rearranging the Carolina Way?
Craig James was a douche, then he raised a douche son

Julian Assange is free on bail
His arrest was an epic fail
They’ve created a monster in WikiLeaks
Behind the curtains, we’re getting secret peeks
Hackers now united to keep him outta jail

Snow has come Raleigh way
But slushy, so no fun to play
Folks flock to the Teeter for milk
Rough driving for ‘necks and their ilk
Just say inside, that’s what I say

The Jets add cheating to the mix
Trip other players for kicks
While ESPN applauds
They’re exposed as frauds
Send their lapband-wearing coach to the sticks

Last time …

Despite Disappointing Finish, The Scooters Rewarded For Surprising Campaign

And just like that, they were gone.

The Scooters were hammered in the playoff semifinals, putting up almost nada beyond Pierre Garcon’s 22-point outburst. In a sickening series of misfortunes, the Saints’ Chris Ivory got injured in the second quarter after quickly piling up 47 yards (five points kick in at 50, then a point for every 10 yards after that) and the Chiefs’ Jamaal Charles was sunk by an emergency appendectomy to normal quarterback Matt Cassell, ending up with just 40 yards. The Broncos’ Kyle Orton put up a stellar MINUS 8 points, while the 49ers’ Michael Crabtree contributed a yard—yep, a single yard (that’s hard to do). Completing the Denver debacle, the Broncos put up exactly three points even though they were facing a horrific Arizona team playing a rookie free agent signal-caller.

Suffice it to say that the entire team imploded on the same day; it was just one of those matchups. Yet it can’t completely take the luster off a gutty season that saw an 8-5-1 record, a 7-2 division mark and a Central Division championship -- all despite losing seven starters for multiple games due to injury during the course of the campaign. Wow (luckily, I had a strong draft). So while I’m reduced to wondering what might have been possible with a fully stocked and healthy lineup, I’m still proud of the fellas.

Which means it’s annual (well, at least 2009 and 2007 as well) awards time. Giddyup.

The Annual Clemson Fast Start, Late Implosion Award: Eddie Royal, WR, Denver
Taking a flyer on Royal in the 10th round looked like a helluva move after he tallied 39 points in the first four weeks of the season. Orton was looking his way an awful lot and seemed to be a security blanket of sorts for the quarterback. Little could anyone have known that Royal would go on to score more than two points in only one other week the rest of the way.

Jim Kelly Annual Choker of the Year: Kyle Orton, QB, Denver
Last year’s Comeback Player of the Year is this year’s Choker of the Year; my, how quickly things change in fantasy football. Granted, Orton’s 42 points helped me earn a playoff berth in the regular-season finale, but he followed that up with a combined -10 points (-2 in the first round, -8 in the semifinals) in my playoff run. His disappearance was one of a few in the semis, but it was impossible to overcome at a position where you need around 20 points a week just to remain competitive.


Braylon Edwards Bustout Player of the Year: Kenny Britt, WR, Tennessee
Despite getting in bar fights, being criticized for immaturity from all sides and essentially acting like a bitch a lot, Britt was phenomenal once he got going this season. He racked up five straight games with a touchdown, capped by a 225-yard, three-score outburst before going down with a hamstring injury for a crucial six-week stretch. Which leads us to …

Bo Jackson “What Might Have Been” Award: Britt/Kevin Kolb, QB, Philadelphia
There is no telling the type of numbers Britt might have put up had he not torn his hammy—it is scary what he was doing up until that time. On the other hand, Kolb had the misfortune of getting concussed in the second quarter of the season, and even though he reappeared briefly after Michael Vick got hurt, he quietly disappeared yet again as Vick put up huge numbers. Had Kolb stayed healthy and put up the numbers that I—and most observers—expected, my team would have been almost insanely stacked: Kolb, Frank Gore, Jamaal Charles, Megatron, Britt, Pierre Garcon … wow. Yet because of the rotten Kolb luck, I had to deal Megatron for Orton and Michael Crabtree, which ended up getting me to the playoffs, but still, it is frightening to think of how loaded the Scooters might have been had the injury gods shone on us.

Darrell Jackson Honorary Clutch Player of the Year: Pierre Garcon, WR, Indianapolis
Garcon was a mystery most of the season, but his 22-point outing on the Thursday of my playoff semifinals matchup launched me into the weekend on a high note. Unfortunately, he was the only one of the Scooters who showed up for the ultra-important elimination game, but he was huge when it counted.

Mike Tyson Memorial Manic-Depressive Player of the Year: Orton/Michael Crabtree, WR, San Francisco
After a five-week start to the season that saw him post fewer than 30 points just once, Orton got on the rollercoaster just after I traded for him (not uncoincidentally). The next stretch went 14, 12, 24, bye, 44, 11, 42, -2, -8.
Similarly, Crabtree almost incomprehensibly had SEVEN weeks this year where he had exactly zero points—including the last two, which happened to coincide with my playoff games. Basically, this douche was going to get you 13 points or none, and you just could never tell.

Honorary John Avery Bust/Bitch of the Year: Marion Barber, RB, Dallas
It wasn’t all his fault, but Barber was an unmitigated disaster this season. The staff couldn’t seem to make up their minds when and if they wanted to use him, played favorites with Felix Jones and then relegated him to spot duty before he got hurt. Maybe I should have seen the writing on the wall, but then again, there’s a reason why Wade Phillips got shit-canned during the season.

Most Consistent Player, Sponsored By IRS: Frank Gore, RB, San Francisco
Sure, he got injured at the worst possible time for me, essentially ending my championship dreams, but Gore was a dynamo and a workhorse on a really bad team all season long. He was good for double-digit scoring essentially every week, and though he didn’t score as many touchdowns as one would like, he was a yardage machine all year long.


Curtis Enis Huge Disappointment Award: Vikings, D/ST, Minnesota
When the Minnesota defense/special teams was on the board in the seventh round and other Ds were already going off the board, I thought I landed a coup in the Vikings. Yet injury after injury devastated Minnesota’s back seven (and some migraines for Percy Harvin), turning them into an enormous fantasy liability. A couple of respectable late-season showings were timely, but overall, they degenerated into an unplayable defense at key stretches of the season.

Dan Marino Annual Best Draft Pick: Britt
I actually had a couple of good choices here, which is always a good problem to have for your team. I’m going with Britt because he went in the 11th round as my fourth wideout, and even with his inopportune injury, emerged as one of the more dynamic receivers in the NFL when he was healthy.

Honorary Ryan Leaf Worst Draft Pick: Kolb/Barber
Again, there were extenuating circumstances in both of these situations, but the harsh reality is that this dud duo represented my fourth- and fifth-round picks. I overcame both crappy selections with some nice later-round pickups, but the whole what-might-have-been question raises its ugly head with these guys.

Jim Jensen Unsung Player: Zach Miller, TE, Oakland
He was simply not the same after he suffered a foot injury he tried to play with for weeks, but he had a tremendous five-game stretch early in the campaign that saw him put up 65 points—stellar for a tight end. He totaled exactly six points the rest of the way (ouch), but he joins a long line of Scooters players who were in the midst of stellar seasons until injury waylaid them.

Eugene Robinson Solicitation’s Lesson Learned Player: Reggie Bush, RB, New Orleans
I loved the selection of Bush in the eighth round as my fourth running back as a hedge against Barber. Based on receiving yardage alone, he was worth the pick, and considering how hard he ran at the end of the Super Bowl championship year, I figured he’d get more of an opportunity in traditional sets in 2010. Unfortunately, any and all plans for Bush were ended when he broke his leg in Week 2. All in all, 2010 is not going to be a great year for Bush to look back on—on any level.

Jamaal Charles Waiver Wire Pickup of the Year: Chris Ivory, RB, New Orleans
I snuck Ivory off the waiver wire late in the regular season without any other owner claiming him, which is incredible in our league. He responded with four touchdowns in two weeks for the Scooters, giving my squad a vital boost at a crucial time. Unfortunately, he got hurt after getting off to a great start in the semifinals, yet another Scooters performer to fall victim to the injury curse at the worst possible moment.
Ivory’s ascension was huge at a most important time, which narrowly edged him out over Miami kicker Dan Carpenter. With 10 field goals in a two-week span, Carpenter was a fantasy beast for most of the season, and since his acquisition coincided with the loss of San Diego’s Nate Kaeding due to injury, his was a vital pickup for the Scooters.


Brian Urlacher Team MVP: Jamaal Charles, RB, Kansas City
I scooped Charles off waivers late last year (hence the name of the award above), then made him my third-rounder this year. Despite some rather mind-numbing delegation of carries with Thomas Jones (especially early in the season), Charles was nothing short of beastly all year long. He ripped off yardage on the ground and through the air every week, despite a head-scratching lack of touchdowns. Of course, like the rest of the team, he went into the Scooters’ Bermuda Triangle in the semifinals, but that can’t take the luster off what was a tremendous season for Charles.

A Sequel To "Bad Santa"?

I have no idea how he bounced back so quickly after head-butting the christ out of a bumper like that.

Pure epicness.

Bipartisanship In The Modern Age ...

You'll laugh.


You'll cry.


But will you vote?

“Happiest Toddler” Riffs On Cave-Kids, Body Language, Food Disguising … And Boobs

“Where did your baby go? One day you’re cradling a tiny newborn in your arms, all of parenthood stretched out in front of you. Then before you know it, you’ve living with an all-new creature—cuter than ever, but suddenly opinionated, stubborn, and lightning fast. Welcome to toddlerhood!”

“You’ll be most successful if you keep in mind this one key fact: Toddlers act less like little schoolkids than they do like uncivilized little … cavemen.”

Just as Ube was turning our lives upside down, I made myself read Dr. Harvey Karp’s “The Happiest Infant on the Block,” which had come highly recommended. It turned out to be an essential tome, full of some vital tips and tricks without which I have been reduced to rocking in the corner, muttering gibberish and shotgunning Jim Beam. “The Fetus Whisperer,” as I dubbed him, led us to the 5 S’s, which played a big role in helping us to survive the first few months.

Well, with Ube rapidly racing toward and into toddlerhood, I figured I’d go back to the well and check out Karp’s “The Happiest Toddler on the Block: How to Eliminate Tantrums and Raise a Patient, Respectful, and Cooperative One- to Four-Year-Old.” The book introduced intriguing concepts such as the Fast Food Rule, Toddler-ese, you-I messages, the side door of the mind, time-ins, hand-checks and patience-stretching. I could see eventually employing most of them as time goes on -- though it’s going to take a lot for me to embrace the creepy-odd clap-growl tactic.

Despite the use of the word “boob” seeming to appear perhaps more than one would expect for a book about toddlers and a questionable reference to “tossing the salad,” the book was a quick and easy read, and I found it to be quite useful. What resonated with me most were an apropos characterization of your child as a mini-cave person and the idea of acting as an ambassador.

“The truth is we don’t live in a black-and-white world. Sometimes you’ll act like your child’s buddy and sometimes her boss, but the best way to understand your job is to think of yourself as an ambassador … an ambassador from the 21st century to the ‘uncivilized’ little munchkin living in your home.”

“Happiest Toddler” also offered up maybe the most compelling anti-spanking argument I’ve read. Additionally, the importance of nonverbal cues are completely overlooked in most circles, so I found some of Karp’s assertions on that front pretty amazing (“Your toddler’s right brain has one absolutely spectacular ability that will become one of your best tools for connecting with her and civilizing and calming her, too: the capacity to respond to ‘nonverbal’ communication.”)

The book also partly served as a motivational, up-with-parents work, outlining four fitting and honest struggles that all parents face: lack of help/guidance, feelings of failure, your toddler’s ability to push your buttons and clashing temperaments. I was also interested to read the theory that toddler behavior can also spark distant memories of painful past experiences, leading to overreactions and unexpected emotions. That’s why it was good to read the bit about how that should be balanced by a recognition that toddlers are only doing what they are programmed to do, so why fight it so much?

“Toddlers literally can’t stop themselves from exploring, touching, and pulling on everything. That’s how they learn about the world and about themselves. So while you may feel that your little friend keeps defying you, she may feel you’re unfairly blocking her greatest joy -- discovery.”

Anyway, I found myself frantically jotting down notes as I pored over the text. I’m not naïve enough to be able to convince myself that the majority of these tactics will work with a rather independent-minded Ube, but it’ll certainly be good to know they’re there just as I’m getting ready to pull a Rain Man with a bottle of Beam.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXVII: Imagine 30 Years Have Passed, Plus A Chicago Icon Passes

30 years later made some cry
As they pondered above, only sky
You gave peace a chance
Gave joy through song and dance
Imagine if John Lennon didn’t die?

Another program ruined by a mad dash
As he makes off with a pile o’ cash
Pitt fans shake their heads for miles
Bears and ‘Fins fans have knowing smiles
He struck again and left -- that’s the ‘Stache

The playoffs are well underway
The Scooters still alive for today
Playing with heart and a little luck
Despite injuries and players not worth a f&^k
Orton, need more than -2, m’kay?

Losses, crimes he wasn’t curbin’
So he quit for family time and bourbon
The hypocrite had a moment of zen
And left the Gators once again
This time don’t come back, Urban

Almost a Cubs mascot, like a beloved puppy
Hilarious, opinionated and chubby
Moaned and groaned in press box
Cheered against the White Sox
Farewell, Ron Santo -- an all-time favorite Cubby

Last time …

That's One H-Eel Of A Christmas Tree ...

How about a Christmas tree that lights up courtesy of an electric eel? Yup, that happened. Kinda cool.

And I'm not sure why, but I found the reference by the Japanese dude to an "unimaginably large Christmas tree" pretty amusing.

The Scooters Take The Next Step

Powered by the consistency of Jamaal Charles, the outburst of Chris Ivory and the return to form of the Vikings defense, the Scooters withstood a Monday night game in which my opponent had four Jets players to advance to the semifinals of the WFFL playoffs. Suffice it to say that the 45-3 thumping of the J-E-T-S by the Patsies worked out well for the Scooters.

I won 92-68 over my opponent, who I beat in back-to-back weeks -- with survival on the line -- and an unheard-of three times this season. That is with -2 points from Kyle Orton, mind you, to go with another no-show from Reggie Bush, a three-quarter disappearing act by Michael Crabtree and just half a game from Pierre Garcon. I also had Dan Carpenter on the bench when he crushed a 60-year field goal, which is good for a tidy 14 points in my league.

The Scooters advanced to 8-4-1 on the season thanks to the win. As the Central Division champion, I’ve locked down the No. 2 seed in the playoffs, but a difficult rematch with the commish looms. I have some tougher lineup decisions looming, including the potential return of Kenny Britt, the probable benching of Bush and the question of what happens with Orton now that Josh McDaniel is out on his arse.

For now, though, I’m giving myself a 24-hour window to enjoy this victory before moving on to the next task. The Scooters have clutched the F up in recent weeks, so we’ll see whether we turn out to be a team of destiny … or a team of density.

A Long Time Ago, In A Classroom Far, Far Away

Young man, in about 15 years you will thank your parents for ensuring that you will always be the coolest kid in school.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXVI: Saying Goodbye To Leslie Nielsen, Plus The Office Is Wuphfing It Up

He made us chuckle in “Airplane”
Glad Leslie Nielsen’s no longer in pain
In “Naked Gun,” a bumbling fool
But he made idiocy cool
You’ll live on in laughter again and again

Spygate 2 … surely you jest?
Josh McDaniel, a joke out west
Still his team is no-goody
By working for the Hoody
He learned cheating from the best

The NCAA gave up on being fair
Turned their backs on amateurism on a dare
Gave Cam Newton a free pass
Chose money over morality and class
A shame and a crime for those who care

The Scooters have been written off before
Have now lost Frank Gore and more
In the playoffs, given no chance
But I believe, despite my rants
So will this team go down in lore?

Cornered the market on being clever
“The Office” in their final-season endeavor
As Michael Scott is ready to head
(That’s what she said)
They’ve been funnier than ever

Last time …

Deep Thoughts By No-Look McFadden: Episode 35

#1
Cam Newton cheats and gets a pass because his team is going to play for a national championship. Butch Davis cheats and gets a pass because his school is in the midst of a multi-, multimillion dollar construction project for a new football building.
Can we just go ahead and call this semipro football and end the charade now?

#2
Here’s a stunning Star Wars-themed print. Just a tremendous Gothic, dramatic rendering of the infamous cantina fight.

#3
And the myth of the Bill Parcells “genius” continues to be perpetuated by the NFL Network and ESPN. Anyone can get really bad teams back to respectability by taking advantage of high picks and the advantages of weaker schedules. But Parcells hasn’t proven he can see it through. He’s also proven that he gets bored and defensive when things don’t go exactly as planned, and he jets at the first sign of criticism or stagnation. The better question isn’t whether he is a genius, it’s whether he still understands the modern player and league.

#4
This 80-gigapixel panorama of London took like three days to shoot and many more to put together. Pretty awesome.

#5
The Eagles disembowelment of the Redskins in a Monday night game was admittedly something to behold. Yet I give you this quote from receiver DeSean Jackson about the team’s reaction to a pregame altercation: “We were like pit bulls, ready to get out of the cage.”
Seriously? Pit bulls? And you catch balls from Ron Mexico? Fuck off, douche.

#6
Alabama fired its PA announcer for playing “Son of a Preacher Man” and “Take the Money and Run” during pregame warmups for the Iron Bowl against Auburn, directed (obviously) toward Tigers quarterback and incessant cheater Cam Newton. The guy got shitcanned for that?! Hell, he should get a raise, because that’s hysterical!

#7
Warren Sapp has dubbed New York Giants tailback Brandon Jacobs “The Tiptoe Burglar.” That is goddam genius.

#8
I walked past legendary Sports Illustrated writer Curry Kirkpatrick on the concourse at the State-UNC game. He looks kind of like Yoda now.

#9
So Buffalo wideout Steve Johnson dropped a game-winning touchdown against Pittsburgh, then subsequently Tweeted this (in ALL CAPS in case Jeezus doesn’t check his Twitter feed all that often): (sic) “@StevieJohnson13: I PRAISE YOU 24/7! AND THIS HOW YOU DO ME! YOU EXPECT ME TO LEARN FROM THIS? HOW?! ILL NEVER FORGET THIS! EVER! THX THO”
I seriously don’t have anything to add to that.

#10
On “Big Bang Theory,” Leonard called Sheldon a “yammering sphincter.” Yup, I now have another band name to add to my ever-growing list.

The Scooters Win The Division, The Scooters Win … Oh, Wait … Say It Ain’t So, Frank Gore!

As usual, celebration time in the Scooters front office has been tempered by more bad luck.

After securing a crucial victory in the finale to take home the division championship and nail down a playoff berth, the Scooters wrapped up the regular season at 7-4-1 overall, including a tidy 6-2 mark within the division. Alas, that good news was destroyed by the revelation that tailback Frank Gore, cornerstone of the Scooters attack, has been lost for the remainder of the season due to a fractured hip.

So it appears I can add Gore to a list that includes Kenny Britt, Reggie Bush, Pierre Garcon, Nate Kaeding, Zach Miller and Kevin Kolb in terms of Scooters players that have missed multiple games due to injury this year. It’s going to take some more clever and suave general manager-ship in order to make up for this enormous loss, but at least I’ll have a shot at the title.

Because after a season that started with a mind-numbing tie, saw vital players going down nearly weekly and seemed to be ended due to the Ron Mexico Incident, it was good to see the Scooters crawl out of the fetal position and clutch the F up when it counted.

Can I pull a little more Chris Ivory-like magic out of my GM hat? Brian Westbrook, anyone? Stay tuned.

Go Scooters.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXV: Thanksgiving Makes Me Wonder Where The F 2010 Went, Plus Heels And Buckeyes Are Embarrassing

A Happy T-Bird Day to one and all
Leaves, turkey and beers mean it’s fall
Throw in disappointment as well
And visits that feel more like hell
But hey, it’ll still be a freaking ball!

They relied on more thug stuff
‘Til the Pack showed who was tough
Left Bitch an embarrassed foe
For the fourth year in a row
Guess you’re not cheating well enough

The Mets prospects keep fallin’s
Behind guys like Jimmy Rollins
New York has a must-win decree
But on one question fans can agree
Who the fuck is Terry Collins?

A short trip over to UNC-Cheat
To make those little sheep bleat
From kickoff to the end of the day
We hit harder than the NCAA
Gotta love a freaking four-peat

From irrelevance comes Ohio State
With reminder of why we hate
Their prez dismisses Boise, TCU out west
When both could kick the shit out of the Vest
Buckeyes trying to again back through the BCS gate

Last time …

The Scooters Assume Fetal Position For Inevitable Rogering By Lady Luck

Over the years here on Scooter & Hum, I’ve documented some of the truly insane bits of shit luck I’ve head in fantasy football. And yes, you can’t throw a rock without hitting someone who has a woe-is-me, bad-beat fantasy football story, so I understand the whining-is-poor-form aspect of it. I get that, I really do.

I also get the superstitious side of things. I don’t consider myself overly superstitious in most areas of life, but when it comes to fantasy football, I’ve been forced to become a believer. That’s why, based on my horrific run of luck in fantasy football spanning the best few years, when my team suffered an insane, last-minute loss to Michael Vick/Ron Mexico last week, I started to get a really, really bad feeling about this season.

You see, I was sitting at 6-1-1 at one point. Even after acceding a loss due to mind-numbering bye-week woes, I romped all over a division opponent the following week to push my record to 7-2-1 and officially secure a playoff berth.

Except I didn’t.

I began to view the Vick/Mexico Incident (which I still can’t fully talk about) as an omen, a harbinger of impending fucked-over-ness. And sure enough, the fantasy locusts began to ascend. Frank Gore and Dan Carpenter, two consistent mainstays this season, put their faces on the same milk carton. Kenny Britt’s hamstring separated into multiple pieces and stayed that way. Nate Kaeding healed as slowly as, well, a kicker. Michael Crabtree got abducted in a San Francisco gay bar. Reggie Bush was a late scratch even though he almost played against Carolina two weeks ago and somehow still remained unhealthy after a bye week and another week. Which sucked because every source indicated he would play and he was a 4 p.m. start, so he was in my lineup when the TV panned to him wearing huge Kardashian-ass sweatpants. Even Kevin Kolb is laughing at me as he dog-sits for Vick/Mexico.

So my team is all of a sudden 6-4-1, and even with a 5-2 division record, is now in danger of missing the playoffs altogether. Eight of the 14 teams in our league are still in playoff contention in this, the final week of the fantasy football regular season. But the good news is that if I win, I win the division title and nail down my automatic postseason spot. Yet the superstitious, bad-luck-recognizing part of me knows somewhere deep down inside that that’s not going to happen. It thinks my team isn’t strong enough to withstand the Vick/Mexico Incident.

But then you walk out of a Food Lion with a $4.99 pumpkin pie to be given to coworkers for a Thanksgiving pot-luck lunch at a UK-based company on a beautiful November morning and sometimes you realize you just have to laugh.

Because that’s all you can do.

Hurricanes North Without The Success. Sorry, Butch

4-0.

That's all I've got.

When Six Flags Meets Katrina and Apathy

Six Flags New Orleans closed down in preparation for Hurricane Katrina, but never opened again. For the past five years, the park, located in the devastated Ninth Ward of the city, has been abandoned. With the City of New Orleans’s permission, this cinemographer captured this eerie, haunting and emotional film of the park, which is slated to be demolished in a coupla months.

You’d be hard-pressed to find a more apt and symbolic representation of the challenges facing the post-Katrina Big Easy.

Carry on.

How I Allowed Sandler To Fool Me Again, This Time With “Grown Ups”

I find Kevin James to be hysterical (although I’ll always think of him as Doug Heffernan). I think Chris Rock is pretty funny (though not really in movies). I know that Rob Schneider’s deal is acting like a retard with lots of semi-serious lines punctuated by awkward silences. I don’t get David Spade and never have. I don’t understand Adam Sandler anymore in a movie setting, especially when he paints himself in the leading-man role with the hypothetical hot wife and rocking career (see “Funny People,” et al).

Even knowing that Sandler had co-written “Grown Ups” and enlisted longtime crony Dennis Dugan to direct it, I thought I would take a gamble on it based on the presence of James and Rock. I didn’t know Salma Hayek was also in it, which was a nice surprise as the movie unfolded.

But that’s where the fun ended.

“Grown Ups” reeks of a movie that was done for Sandler and his posse and no one else. I would guess that 70% or so of the flick was ad-libbed, and the film was littered with laugh-at-their-own jokes moments, at times coming off like a bad Jimmy Fallon–era Saturday Night Live episode (or is that redundant?).

Of course, there were a number of funny moments, but it was like it got stuck between being a comedy, a kid’s movie and a film-with-a-message. And that just never works. The movie was also marred with occasionally confusing plot lines, a meandering direction and mostly obvious humor, but that was not a shock considering the director and the lead writer.

I’m guessing that Hayek got the sense that this was a bomb-in-the-making, because there were reports that she got her name removed from the billing, both on the poster and the title. I guess she saw that this SNL reunion tour movie looked like a solid idea, but didn’t quite fulfill those expectations.

If I could offer Sandler any advice (not that he needs any), I would ditch the Hecrew (“Hebrew” + “crew”) and concentrate on the safety of movies like “Bedtime Stories” (review here) and the occasional reach with depth, like “Reign Over Me” (review here). Also, I would totally give a buttload of money to me.

But if you’re into self-serving flicks with the occasional chuckle mixed in with rather uncomplicated and low-brow humor, I suggest you check out “Grown Ups.” Then go through with that lobotomy you’ve obviously been putting off.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXIV: On Being Violated In Airports, Plus Dolphins Roll Over For Bears

As the TSA puts fondling forth
What is self-respect worth?
To put air travel in a funk
Protest against touching junk
And opt out on flying the 24th

Hypnotizing the weak the norm
GOP now applying it to global warm
Just declare war on science
With ignorant defiance
Stupidity taking our country by storm

As the Pack heads over to Cheater Hill
The cover-ups threaten to overspill
Bitch Davis keeps lying to all
John Blake set up to take the fall
Sacrificing ethics to pay a stadium bill

Everyone knows Tigger is bitter
Can’t change that by going on Twitter
He’s a 140-character cliche
He does whatever Nike say
Just don’t Tweet about banging the babysitter

A third-string QB for the ‘Fins
A diva receiver with plenty of sins
An offensive coordinator old as dirt
Every offensive lineman got hurt
Made me drink so much I got the spins

Last time …

Deep Thoughts By No-Look McFadden: Episode 34

#1
I was watching the “Seinfeld” episode “The Heart Attack” the other day, and even though it was probably my 122nd viewing, I finally realized that George calls Jerry a “jerkoff” in one scene. Jerry starts to crack up. Hysterical.

#2
DirecTV has a really cool series of commercials documenting some of the NFL’s best rivalries in the context of real-life scenarios and interactions between Average Joes. One depicts Eagles fans drinking sweet tea and watching the games on their laptops in a diner. Because that’s how most Philadelphia fans roll. Way to know your fanbase, DirecTV.

#3
On one of my first visits to New Orleans, I tried to visit Louis Armstrong Park. It was locked up for some fabled “repairs.” Sad what it has degenerated into.

#4
Incredibly powerful and moving “30 for 30” on Marcus Dupree. I had read the landmark book “The Courting of Marcus Dupree” as a kid, so I had a bit more invested than most. I found the shots of him watching old footage of himself from a quarter century or more before, and his reactions and almost disbelief, like a surprised kid on Christmas morning, really emotional. Well done, ESPN (I don’t say that much, so it’s heart-felt).

#5
This story about UK secret nuclear testing and subsequent corpse mutilation is almost unfathomable. And it’ll be an even bigger and even more unbelievable crime if it is allowed to go under the radar and not warrant more reporting and investigation.
Just, wow.

#6
So there’s an Enterprise Rent-A-Car commercial that runs incessantly, where the older dude calls the younger dude “Tiger.” I would find that creepy as hell even if the old guy was his father, which he isn’t.

#7
“The T.Ocho Show.” You deserve to get punched if you even consider watching this. That is all.

#8
Can anyone tell me why they put a slippery tarp on the sidelines during football games? Seriously? How many players have to slip and fall and risk a blown-out knee before this is looked at? Are you telling me there’s not a better idea than this?

#9
Dear college coaches, you can’t play for the field goal at the end of games in college. You just can’t. You can’t trust college kickers. Go for the touchdown. Win the game. End of advice.

#10
When I first started writing for the Technician, the NC State student newspaper, trying to juggle schoolwork, a job waiting tables and this volunteer work, I got put on the Wolfpack men’s soccer beat. My first assignment was to cover a tournament in Durham, where I interviewed coach George Tarantini. As a nervous reporter, I was completely disarmed by his engaging personality, his appreciation of the student paper and his easygoing demeanor. Later, when I wrote for the Wolfpacker, I was always blown away when he hand-delivered brochures for his soccer camp to our offices to be packaged with the magazine. Even recently, I bumped into him at Cup A Joe, where he was quick with a smile as usual, waiting in line for coffee.
Almost 20 years after I first met him, and after a quarter-century as the Pack’s coach, Tarantini is finally retiring. In many ways, he’s State’s last link to Jim Valvano, his close friend and confidante. Many soured on Tarantini after years of perceived underachieving, so I can only hope he knows how much the NC State community is going to miss his personality and all his contributions. Best of luck in this next stage of your life, Coach.
Go Pack.

With Apologies To Lebowski ...

Two of my favorites meet up: Hugo Reyes and Don Draper. Repetition ensues.

How Ron Mexico Shat In The Scooters’ Front Yard

They say that, in the lobby of the Rio All Suite Hotel and Casino where the World Series of Poker is held, they have a booth set up where you can sidle up, pay a dollar and tell your “bad beat” story. It’s supposed to be cathartic, a way to get the tale told to a sympathetic ear in hopes of moving on more quickly. Well, that’s what this blog post is serving as today: a forum to tell perhaps the worst “bad beat” story in the history (well, at least my history) of fantasy football.

Going into last night’s Redskins-Iggles game, I was up by 80 freaking points. 80. I had 131 points, my opponent had 51. He had Michael Vick still yet to play, but that was the only bullet left in his gun (Vick reference intentional).

So by the time I flipped over to the game, Vick had run for a touchdown, thrown for an 88-yard touchdown and was just moments away from throwing for another. The ‘Skins, playing what appeared to be some type of Tecmo Bowl defense, then allowed another long touchdown throw (which was sketchy) and another Vick touchdown. In less than a half of football, Vick had already racked up 69 points -- by himself.

Not wanting to sit around only to watch a historical moment in fantasy football history happen to my team, I turned off the game with three minutes left in the first half and went to bed, secure in the knowledge that I would somehow lose in an almost unlosable fashion. Of course, this morning I got up to see that Vick had scored 87 points.

Read that again.

Mind you, this is the most points ever scored by a single player in the history of our league. And it is easily the most ridiculous loss in the history of our league.

As if I needed yet another reason to want Vick to contract an incurable disease, apparently the Eagles didn’t call off the dogs (Vick reference intentional). In snatching defeat from the jaws (Vick reference intentional) of victory in an almost incomprehensible way, I didn’t, in fact, advance to 7-2-1 and lock up a playoff berth. Instead, losing 138-131, I fell to 6-3-1 and all of a sudden brought a handful of teams who were essentially out of contention back into it.

Over at NC State, football coach Tom O’Brien said before the season that he wasn’t necessarily asking for his team to go through a season with no injuries and at full health -- all he wanted from the football gods was a “normal” season as it relates to injuries, instead of the mind-numbing litany of physical ailments that had struck the Wolfpack over and over and over again in 2008 and 2009.

All I wanted this year for the Scooters was a “normal” season of fantasy football as it related to luck and the impossible. In jumping out to a 6-1-1 start, I was playing on a level playing field and taking full advantage with a stellar team. Now, from beyond the grave, the fantasy football ghosts of the past few seasons have seized the Scooters’ cleat strings yet again. Can the Scooters push through and weather an almost unfathomable setback? We’ll find out soon.

Sometimes all you can do is laugh at situations like this. And someday, I’ll look back at this and have a chuckle.

Today is not that day.

Death to Ron Mexico.

Poetry Is Found In Images

The production company Everynone made a video poem. And it was powerful.

WORDS from Everynone on Vimeo.

Then they remixed it using YouTube vids. It was still powerful.

Re:WORDS from Everynone on Vimeo.

They made me think of the creepy kid from “American Beauty.” He said that there was beauty all around us, in even the most mundane things. He was right.

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXIII: An Overdue, Big Change In Miami, Plus At Least We Can Take Pride In Our Vets

Benched is a robotic Henne
Inserted is trustworthy Penny
Can he find the ’08 magic?
Or will ’10 turn tragic
Can’t be any worse, can he?

An up-tempo Pack took the floor
Behind the Lethal Weapon Four
A trio of rookies are fearless
In the ACC, Tracy Smith is peerless
Will they meet expectations and more?

Apathy setting in once again
Hope thrown in a trash bin
Lowest common denominator rules
“Idiocracy” coming true, fools
Open-mindedness may return -- but when?

A choke job for the Pack in Death Valley
The whole offensive line played like Sally
When the pressure mounts
O’Brien failing when it counts
Against the Demon Deacs, will they rally?

Another Veterans Day come and passed
Hope our appreciation does last
Spent the morning with Ube
Thankful for so much, you see
Freedom across a land so vast

Last time …

Deep Thoughts By No-Look McFadden: Episode 33

#1
I totally wish I had gone to the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear, if only for the awesome signs.

#2
So, I like the ringing noise a shop door makes when you walk in. It’s hard to explain, but it feels sort of nostalgic or something. Anyway, carry on.

#3
Have a look at the “World According to San Francisco,” one of my favorite cities in the US. By the way, congrats on the Giants World Series win.

#4
You can admit it: when you were little, you were secretly in love with Elvira. Anyway, she is still alive, kicking … and joining all of us in laughing at Christine O’Donnell.

#5
So the show “The Big C” has generated a lot of interest -- and quite a bit of controversy -- for its portrayal of a cancer patient trying to make her way through life. However, the lead character, played by Laura Linney, makes a series of choices that are damaging to her family, which shows her not as brave and free, but as careless and selfish. She plays someone who feels it’s a license to do all the things you’re not supposed to, whether it hurts those closest to you or not.
There is a difference between making the most of the rest of your days and living without accountability. I’m hoping the minds behind “The Big C” begin to see that difference.

#6
Have you ever heard the saying about not pissing off a tattooist or you’ll end up with a giant penis on your back? Well, this guy forgot that saying when he picked the worst friend ever and got on his bad side.

#7
Apparently New Mexico’s quarterback suffered a “pumpkin-related” injury that knocked him out of the lineup. I guess he’s the wrong guy to turn to to carve up a defense?
Tip your bartenders, folks.

#8
Read this bit about U.S. life expectancy and then tell me that healthcare reform is a bad idea. Jeezus.

#9
Will injuries waylay yet another Scooters fantasy football season? Somehow, I’m out to a 6-2-1 record despite losing Reggie Bush, Kenny Britt, Zach Miller and Nate Kaeding and having half my team out on bye in Week 9. The injury gods have to let up on me—and soon—if a good-looking team is to live up to its promise.

#10
OK, I change my mind from #6. This poor bastard officially had the WORST. FRIENDS. EVAR.

This Is Not The Jar Jar Binks You Are Looking For ...

A rather hilarious look at what might have been had Jar Jar Binks been written into the original "Star Wars" trilogy, rendered in Legos.

Holy Hailstorm!

I don't know why this reminds me of the Tea Party. It just does. Anyway, pretty incredible video here of a storm in Georgia.

Long-Awaited Sequel “The Gate House” Is An Epic Fail By Almost Every Measure

“An individual life passes through a continuum of time and space, but now and then you enter a warp that sucks you back into the past. You understand what’s going on because you’ve been there before; but that’s no guarantee that you’re going to get it right this time. In fact, experience is just another word for baggage. And memory carries the bags.”

“A verse from Matthew popped into my head: Wide is the gate, and broad is the road, that leadeth to destruction.”

“She’d never really left my side for ten years, so this was not a reunion, because we had never been apart, and this voyage we were about to take would be our second together.
“And if Fate had already decided that we would not return from the sea, then that was all right. Every journey has to end, and the end of the journey is always called Home.”

This is a book that shouldn’t have been written.

If you think that’s a rather controversial way to start a book review, well, strap on your seatbelts. Parts of “The Gate House” by Nelson DeMille came across as contrived, others felt predictable and still others appeared to be illogical. You wouldn’t want any book to be described with any of those words, much less all three. We’ll call it the Shit-Hack Hat Trick.

“The Gate House” is the sequel to the popular “Gold Coast” (which I enjoyed), and DeMille succumbed to some outside pressures to write it 18 years after the first book. The plot itself takes place a decade after the events in “Gold Coast,” and in terms of the book’s timeline, only nine months after the events of 9/11, which overhangs the story in many ways.

After a fitting line from the “Great Gatsby” (“Gold Coast” was often described as a modern-day “Gatsby”), the book got off to a promising start, with the hero (or antihero) John Sutter waking up after a rather evocative dream involving his ex-wife, Susan, and the man she cheated on Sutter with and then murdered, Mafia kingpin Frank Bellarosa. Sutter is flying back to New York’s Long Island after a decade of self-imposed exile in London (three of the years spent sailing around the world) to preside over the estate of Ethel, a longtime family servant. Sutter temporarily (which we never believe, based on loaded comments like “Though, on second thought, what difference does it make to me? I’m only passing through.”) takes up residence in the gate house of Stanhope Hall, Ethel’s former home that sits less than a mile away from where Sutter used to live with Susan -- who, by the way, has just moved back to the guest house after a failed marriage in South Carolina. Convenient, yes?

“We had been separated for a decade by oceans and continents, and now we were a few minutes’ walk from each other, but still separated by anger, pride, and history, which was harder to overcome than continents and oceans.”

Anyway, after poring through old pictures and papers of his former life with Susan, Sutter gets nostalgic, until the doorbell rings … and he sees the ghost of Frank Bellarosa. I’ll stop here to say that it might have been a much more interesting book if it really was his ghost. Unfortunately, it turns out that Bellarosa’s son, Anthony, is a dead-ringer (pun intended) for his father, and has apparently taken a shine to Dad’s previous line of work. Long story short, he essentially threatens Susan’s life to help force Sutter to become his personal attorney, a role Sutter had “enjoyed” for a time when the elder Bellarosa was around. Cue the “Every time I think I’m out, they pull me right back in!” line.

This opening part of the story is rather slow-developing, filled with lots of words but not much actually being said, like DeMille is just passing the time while trying to think up a suitable plotline. After passing mention of a serious “girlfriend” in the UK that is brushed aside and a rather odd and nonsensical dalliance with Elizabeth, the daughter of the dying servant, all of a sudden Sutter is back with Susan. And Sutter isn’t the only one who appears to be taken off-guard by this turn of events -- as a reader, you find yourself asking, “What just happened?” In fact, I almost got the sense that DeMille himself was surprised by this “twist” (well, at least its suddenness).

Joining the “wtf” and out-of-the-blue themes, all of a sudden Sutter starts allowing Susan to dictate his life and decisions, which is out of character for him. She essentially demands that their relationship be revived and he ask her to marry him, she begins telling what and when to drink, what he is allowed to eat, what happens next, etc. We’ve known Sutter is a racist and a hypocrite who pretends to hate the gentrified life, but then passes judgment on those who don’t follow, honor or respect it; but not only is that reinforced, but once Susan starts removing his spine piece from piece, the reader starts to wonder just what it is that is supposed to make Sutter likeable as the main character?

“I was happy, too, but this was a little sudden, and I wasn’t processing it at the speed it was happening, and I really wanted at least ten minutes to think about completely changing my life.”

“I sensed that I was losing some control of the agenda, and my life.”

In the background, Sutter had irrationally been allowing himself to get sucked back in by the Bellarosa family, conversing with Anthony and meeting him for dinner a couple of times (“‘If you are going to sup with the devil, bring a long spoon.’”). When Sutter finally tells Anthony he is getting back with his former wife, Anthony overtly threatens him and her, feeling that Sutter is backing out on an unstated agreement to work with him. Showing a passive-aggressive side, Sutter, for some reason, slashes a painting (done by Susan) that sits in Anthony’s office while over for dinner. It is the latest act in a major stretch of the book that all feels dramatically out of scale and out of character for Sutter.

On a side note, there are other somewhat awkward devices that are introduced by DeMille, led by literary clichés such as multiple times Sutter being lost in thought and being brought out of his reverie by someone saying, “What are you thinking about?” Annoying and ghey, sorry. Then, at one point, Susan goes out for a jog and comes back naked and evasive; I’m not sure if DeMille had this in mind, but the seed was planted in at least my mind that Susan was now potentially involved romantically with the son of her former lover, which whom she had a torrid affair. But no explanation is offered then nor at any later point. Oh well … moving on, as they say.

From there, the story drifts badly, filled with melancholy reminiscences, overly dramatic family reunions, fabricated threat levels, the involvement of local and national law enforcement, John Gotti’s funeral and Anthony’s disappearance. Being set in New York, you almost find yourself saying, “Yada, yada, yada” throughout most of the book, up until an abrupt, illogical and forced ending.

I guess one of the lessons here is that you should recognize that you’re in for a bad book when the testimonials on the back cover are NOT for the book that you are holding in your hand. And the reviews for “Gold Coast” only serve to remind you of what is missing badly in “The Gate House”: pacing, relevance and humor.

All that being said, Sutter still brings the funny sometimes (“And my mother made it more difficult. I wonder if she ever understood the irony of her calling me a son of a bitch.”). But there’s an overriding sense that he is being written in a different way, almost as if DeMille is fighting an internal battle over who he really wants Sutter to be. Is he redeemed? Is he a forgiver? Is he still supremely flawed? What are we to make of his snide comments, hatred of his new (and old) bride’s family, as well as his own? Why does DeMille feel it necessary to have Sutter launch into this overly sentimental, Hallmark–greetingish soliloquies out of nowhere? What future does Sutter really see extending from here? Who is he now? How and why did he change so much?

The brush with which DeMille paints the evil of Susan’s father is also way too broad, to the point of not being believable. In fact, Sutter rather quickly jumps to the conclusion that he will have to go back to London and leave Susan because of her father, which naturally leads the reader to assume that maybe that is really what he has wanted all along -- essentially giving him the easy out he’s been waiting for.

“It was hard to believe that two idiots -- Anthony Bellarosa and William Stanhope -- could alter my future, and Susan’s future, and our future together.”

“It occurred to me that there was nothing here for me, except unhappiness and bad memories … I felt no further obligation toward her, and no desire to be part of her life.
“That wasn’t true, of course, but that would have to be my exit line as I packed my bags—then maybe we could try again, ten years from now.”

Undoubtedly, there is something captivating about the setting, the scene, the culture of this part of Long Island and its history -- of that, there is no argument from me. Yet there is a reason this sequel was nearly 20 years in the making: there was never a story there to follow, and DeMille’s attempt to sizzle one up out of thin air not only doesn’t resonate, but pans badly.

Which all leads to the inevitable question: “Besides that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the show?”

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXII: Fear And Ignorance Prevail, Plus Life’s Too Short

As our once-hopeful country turns redder
Ignorance prevails right down to the letter
A victory for the fear-mongering right
How much left to continue the fight?
Canada’s looking better and better

They called him Captain Hook
He managed by doing whatever it took
With bullpens he was ahead of his time
To Detroit his contributions were sublime
RIP to Sparky Anderson—one tough cook

A celebration taking place by the bay
The Giants finally have their day
Big-head Beroid is finally gone
The 49ers have been a con
A well-deserved World Series title, gotta say

A pen in the back is called a Bic stab
That’s how Shanahan’s felt to McNabb
Too fat and too little flex
Makes one lose out to Rex
It feels like the end for Donovan McFlab

A long coupla weeks it’s been
Full of remembrances of what’s been
One life blossoms into a year
Another winks out with many a tear
Hug yours tight and love again and again

Last time …

Will Britt Go From Afterthought To Season-Sinker For The Scooters?

Tennessee Titans receiver Kenny Britt participates in bar-room melees unharmed … yet suffers injuries that could sideline him for two months by dropping long touchdown passes.

That’s the state of Britt after he “popped” his hamstring this past Sunday. As one of my key receivers, the hope was that Britt’s continued emergence (five straight games with a touchdown up until last weekend, including a three-score outburst against the Iggles) would allow my team to more easily withstand the trade of Megatron. While signal-caller Kyle Orton and wideout Michael Crabtree have been solid in return, the indefinite absence of Britt is likely to waylay a season that had been looking rather promising.

Of course, the Scooters are no strangers to catastrophic midseason injury. And sitting at 6-1-1 with four weeks left in our fantasy regular season, I guess I can’t complain too much. I’m banking on a loss this week as half my team is on bye, but admittedly had begun to look more long-term with this campaign -- as in a first-round playoff bye and potential matchups thereafter.

Now, the attention turns to the free agency waiver wire, where the receiver pickings are predictably slim. Even if Britt comes back sooner than expected, what can he really be counted on now that Randy Moss has arrived in Tennessee? And as a side note, do the Titans really think it’s a good idea to bring in a diva douche like Moss to team with Britt -- an immature, punkish type -- down the stretch?

But that’s Jeff Fisher’s concern, not mine. So I’m putting on my GM cap and turning over every rock today, in hopes of finding a way to get the Scooters right again after this latest setback.