Terms like “old school” get tossed around too much. Had you tuned in any college football game in the past four years and you would have heard this phrase to describe Tim Tebow. But this doesn’t do justice to some of the guys who played the game before Tebow. We just lost one of the greats of the era when football wasn’t a big money sport; an era when sports still stayed in perspective.
With the passing of Tom Brookshier, perhaps we should recognize that there are some players for whom there are no “old schools,” rather perhaps a set of values from which we might all draw. Brookshier was an All-Pro defensive back for the Philadelphia Eagles, later becoming a long-time broadcast announcer of the NFL. The Philadelphia Inquirer remembered him by pointing out what set Brookshier apart.
Originally a 10th round draft pick from Colorado, Brookshier made an immediate impact with eight interceptions during his rookie season of 1953. Then, after a two-year stint in the Air Force, the defensive back returned to the Eagles and twice earned All-Pro honors – first in 1959, and again in 1960 as a member of the NFL championship team.
Keep in mind that after bursting onto the NFL scene as a rookie, Brookshier left to join the Air Force. He served his two years, then came back to the Eagles where he established himself as one of the premier defensive backs in the game, leading the Eagles to their sole NFL championship. Granted, Brookshier was not unique in putting service to his country before his athletic career, but it is a rarity. Outside of Pat Tillman and a few others, it’s difficult to imagine today’s athletes doing the same. It’s simply a different era.
It matters little what you knew about Tom Brookshier the football player. But we could all learn from the “old school” from which Tom Brookshier the man came.
There are several key storylines that all media outlets are required to discuss in the days leading up to the Super Bowl. Seriously, any media outlet, even penny-ante blogs, are required to cover the Manning family angle. Since the Colts have decided to employ a Manning, it is their fault we all have to live through this again.
Let’s face it. The Super Bowl has become an annual Manning family reunion and it sure-as-shit ain’t the Saints fault. Archie Manning quarterbacked the Saints through 11 of the most horrible seasons any one team has ever suffered through. He was the face of a franchise that literally did not want to show its face. In return, the Saints gave him a porous offensive line and a nice concrete playing surface. In other words, the Saints tried to kill Archie Manning so his progeny couldn’t do this to all of us.
Instead, for the third damn time in four years, the Manning clan rallies around one of their own, and we get to read all about it. The senior Manning will be feted and praised, his wife will beam proudly, and Peyton will continue to imitate a quarterback who routinely wins the big games. Eli will prattle on about how the pass David Tyree caught with his head was the greatest play in the history of sports. Then there’s Cooper…the Manning’s family answer to Fredo Corleone.
All in all, a good bit of nauseating family fun and thanks to the Colts, we fans suffer once again.
While it may be January, in Minnesota that means Twins Fest, a weekend in the dead of winter dedicated to the fans of the Minnesota 9. It also means it is time for my annual “Why isn’t Bert Blyleven in the Hall of Fame?” rant.
Granted, outside of Joe Mauer and Justin Morneau, the Twins roster isn’t exactly a cavalcade of household names, and a big chunk of those names have less than 3 years experience “at the major league level,” to quote Bert Blyleven. However, that’s no excuse to shaft this team on the exposure they deserve. But if you are a Twins fan, you know what it’s like to watch great players toil in obscurity as Minnesota is a small-market team west of the Appalachian Mountains. Of course, that means the Twins might as well play their home games on the 8th moon of Neptune as far as ESPN is concerned.
Like I said, this is nothing new. Harmon Killebrew spent the 60’s being overshadowed by the likes of Mickey Mantle, even though the Killer had more career homers than the Mick. Rod Carew spent the 70’s watching Carl Yasztremski get all the attention as a hit machine, even though Carew was a far-superior all-around player. And Kirby Puckett got robbed of a 1991 MVP award just because Cal Ripken, Jr. had one of the two better-than-slightly-above average seasons in his 20-plus-year career.
Possibly the most egregious example of this small-market bias explains why Bert Blyleven can’t get into the Baseball Hall of Fame. Sure he didn’t spend his entire career in Minnesota, but he did pitch the entirety of his career in the relative obscurity of what would become known as the “small market team,” meaning Minnesota, Texas, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Minnesota again, and the California Angels.
Although it would have given me nausea on the Mr. Creosote scale to see it, my assertion is that had Blyleven pitched for the Yankees, he would have been a superstar. Just for fun, consider the following comparison of Blyleven’s career numbers to Yankee legend and Hall-of-Famer Whitey Ford.
- 287 wins – 25th All-Time (51 more wins than Ford at 236)
- 3.31 career Earned Run Average (2.75 for Ford, who never pitched in the Designated Hitter era, or after the pitcher’s mound was lowered before the 1969 season)
- 4,970 innings pitched – 13th on the All-Time list (3,170 for Ford)
- 3,701 strikeouts – 5th on the All-Time list (1,956 for Ford)
- 685 career starts – 9th on the All-Time list (438 for Ford)
- 242 complete games (156 for Ford)
- 60 shutouts – 9th on the All-Time list (45 for Ford)
- Two World Series Championships: 1979 Pittsburgh Pirates and 1987 Minnesota Twins (4 for Ford, who pitched the whole of his career with the Yankees)
- Won 20 games in 1973 (Ford only won 20 games twice, in 1961 and 1963)
- One of only three pitchers to ever win a Major League game before his 20th birthday and also win a Major League game after his 40th birthday.
Let’s just digest some of those numbers. First, lets start with a career Earned Run Average of 3.31. In my mind the two best arbiters of a dominant pitcher are ERA and strikeouts. Granted, a career ERA of 3.31 doesn’t get him high on any lists, but then again, nobody would be considering the advent of the Designated Hitter and the lowering of the mound after the 1968 season. If that weren’t enough, a great share of the career ERA leaders are from the dead-ball era prior to 1919. But I have an inkling that if you were to ask any American League manager after 1973 if an ERA of 3.31 is far more than respectable, I suspect the answer would be a resounding “Yes!” If you don’t believe that, go look how many Cy Young winners since then have had higher ERAs.
As for strikeouts, Blyleven was 3rd all-time when he retired, and he is the only eligible pitcher with 3,000 strikeouts not inducted – passed only by Roger Clemens and Randy Johnson, and the next nine behind Bert in strikeouts are eight members of the Hall of Fame and one “for-sure” future member, Greg Maddux.)
Go here to match Blyleven’s Hall of Fame resume against several current members and some “sure-thing” future members of Cooperstown. It is easy to see that Bert’s numbers easily merit induction to Cooperstown, but it just never happens. Then, there’s the stuff numbers don’t measure. The pure smooth that only Bert’s knee-buckling curveball brought, yet the with personality brought by a guy whose off-day past-times are rumored to have included setting Tom Kelly’s shoelaces on fire. It’s the same odd combo that can sell you a house while making “Beavis and Butthead” type jokes about his broadcast partner.
But until Blyleven is in that Hall, it can never be a true hall of greatness, rather just a hall of fame.
Ok, I’ve had my rant, and I’m good until the next time Bert doesn’t get the votes. But at least now, I’m going to file this with the rest of the things that I deal with in my tried-and-true means of anger management. For those of you fortunate enough to view Bert’s work as the Twins color guy, I give you the Bert Blyleven drinking game. Break it out on Opening Day and enjoy…
Take one drink whenever:
- Bert says “Major League Level”
- Bert says “According to my California math”
- Bert says “Get to that balance point”
- Bert says “Run Support”
- Bert circles somebody
- Bert claims to know the answer to the AFLAC trivia question
Take two drinks whenever:
Bert makes reference to the number of days until his birthday
Bert talks about the advantage of drilling a hitter
Bert says something about umpires not knowing how to call a curveball for a strike
Bert takes a shot at his booth-mate
Bert actually knows the answer to the AFLAC trivia question
Bert makes reference to the fact he gave up a ton of home-runs in his career (double if he mentions Ron Kittle)
Take three drinks whenever:
Bert has a rant about pitchers getting babied/not pitching enough innings
Bert has a rant about pitchers being afraid to throw inside
Bert reads the name of the town from the signs of people he’s circling (double if the town is in North Dakota)
Take four drinks whenever:
- Bert plays a prank
- Bert tells a story about his major league career (double if the story involves either the 1987 Twins, the 1979 Pirates, or Ron Kittle)
- Bert circles somebody because it’s their birthday (that means seven drinks if Bert says the birthday circle recipient’s town, and eleven drinks if they happen to be from North Dakota)
First of all, it is time to stop blaming this guy.
Yeah, his playoff record sucks. Yeah, he missed three kicks. That ignores the fact that true championship teams usually don’t need three kicks – true championship teams will convert at least one of those opportunities into a touchdowns. True championship teams don’t usually find themselves trailing by two scores late in the 4th quarter.
For the better part of this decade, and for several other periods in the past, The San Diego Chargers have been amongst the NFL elite. For some reason, you’ve never been able to get over the hump, and you have a long line of coaches that brought you to the brink…Marty Schottenheimer, Don Coryell, even making a Super Bowl appearance under Bobby Ross. These guys were all talented head coaches with proven track records.
But then in 2007, Charger faithful seemed to have had enough. Once again, the Chargers were poised amongst the top teams in the league, and once again, they couldn’t take that next step. So Schottenheimer was thrown overboard and a new coach was brought in; a coach different than the past crop of “second-best” guys. A coach who would take the Chargers to the Promised Land. So, in 2007, the San Diego Chargers named Norville Eugene “Norv” Turner as that coach.
Read that again, because it doesn’t stick the first time: The Chargers, wanting a coach who could lead them to a championship, hired Norv Turner. Norv Fucking Turner. It’s like everybody in the Charger front office stuck their heads up their asses simultaneously that fateful day in 2007.
This is a guy who has lived off his salad days as the architect of the Cowboys high-octane offense in their Super Bowl years in the early 90’s. It had to be tough to get performance out of an offense featuring three hall-of-famers and the best offensive line of the era.
That success got him promoted to the head coach level, and since then we’ve had plenty of time to learn Norv Turner sucks as a head coach. Short of Minnesota’s Brad Childress, he’s the least charismatic coach in the league. He has the personality of a Velveeta sandwich on white bread with extra mayonnaise. He couldn’t lead a pack of wolves to fresh meat, and flies leave fresh shit to follow his play-calling decisions (insert references to the on-side kick against the Jets here).
The numbers tell the story. His career record is 90-98-1, giving Norv a winning percentage of .452. To put that in perspective, compare that with some other NFL coaching legends:
- Wayne Fontes .496
- Jim Haslett .464
- Norv Turner .452
- Jerry Glanville .435
- Dennis Erickson .416
Look carefully at the names on that list. There’s a reason why Norv’s name ranks with the guy who spent a decade trying to make the Lions respectable and the guy who said Brett Favre would never be a legitimate NFL quarterback. Also, bear in mind that Norv’s winning percentage has improved from .418 at the time the Chargers made the decision to hire him.
But now, even though he has seen success with this team, it is time to realize that Norv isn’t the guy to take you to the next level. The futility of Nate Kaeding provides nice cover for the fact the Chargers were playing the best football in the NFL in the second half of the season and they had arguably the most talented and well-balanced team in the league. They converted a bye in the first-round into a loss against an upstart Jets squad.
A Norv Turner offense is known for two things; its firepower and its ability to be dominated physically. Even though that has been demonstrated on multiple occasions, Turner has never seemed to be able to make that adjustment. Until he does, his teams will never win a championship as long as they have to face a tough, physical defense. That’s a problem, because the AFC is filled with just such teams. The Chargers already saw the capabilities of the Jets D, and there’s a similar list in this conference, one that includes the likes of the Steelers, Ravens, Bengals, and to a lesser extent, the Colts.
This is why the move of extending Turner’s contract puzzles me. The Chargers have bags of talent and they’re going to win a lot of games. The piece that is missing is the guy to lead them over the hump. Norv could screw up a grilled cheese sandwich, but even he can get them into the playoffs. But that means more Jets-type collapses.
That leads to my questions for Charger fans. Are you trying to become a west-coast version of the Minnesota Frauds Vikings? Why do that to yourself?
First, you must view the video concerning Colts fans’ new source of identity; “The Shoe.”
I guess I should be encouraging Captain Dreadlock to crawl out of his bong long enough to post it, but it is soooooo lame I’m amazed it wasn’t done by a Viking fan.
In short, in order to celebrate Indianapolis’ Super Bowl appearance, Dreadlock Guy wants the Colts to be the first team to have a hand signal. As much as I love the creativity, he is 38 years too late. The Houston Oilers debuted such a signal on Monday Night Football in 1972.
This means if you encounter somebody with their thumbs joined and forefingers extended upwards, they are either a paper football player or a Colts fan. In the case of the former, they are just a dry hump with their chubby, freckled girlfriends away from being the uber-sexless turbo-geeks that play Dungeons & Dragons. In the case of the latter, odds are they are just a blobby drunk eager to slur their dissertation on why Payton is “THE Manning.”
In either case, just punch them. We’ll all feel better for it.
A season summed up in a single picture. A season that ends like so many other for Vikings fans, in utter disappointment. I really didn’t want it to end like this for you. Seriously, as a Philadelphia Eagle fan, I haven’t had an NFL Championship in my lifetime, in fact since the Vikings even existed. We get to hang our hat on being the only team to beat the Vince Lombardi-coached Packers in a championship game. And you hung yours on a different piece of Packer history.
Naturally, the thought behind bringing Brett Favre to Minnesota was rooted in this franchises’ hunger for a championship. Eagles’ fans made a similar pact with the devil a few years ago believing Terrell Owens was the missing piece to complete a Brad Childress-architected offense. Having seen this train wreck before, I tried to warn you. But despite repeated warnings, you ignored history and were doomed to repeat it. But, since I hope you will not continue to engage in this self-destructive delusion, you must really take a critical look at your “savior,” King Brett I. Specifically, pay attention to what are really the ten defining “big-game” moments of the latter half of Favre’s career:
NFC Divisional Playoffs Jan. 20, 2002
It was advertised as a shootout between two of the gunslingers of the season – Kurt Warner vs. Brett Favre. It was supposed to be a battle of the league’s two best quarterbacks. Favre, however, decided to shoot himself in the cheese. He was picked off six times, two of which were of the “six the other way” variety. The Rams easily defeated the Packers, 45-17, advancing to the conference championship game.
NFC Wild-Card Game Jan. 4, 2003
I never thought the Falcons had a shot to win in Green Bay. You never thought the Falcons had a shot to win in Green Bay. Vegas agreed, having Atlanta as a double-digit underdog. After all the Packers were undefeated at home, and Favre boasted a 35-0 career record at Lambeau when the temperate was below freezing. But nobody told Michael Vick, who simply outplayed Favre. King Brett I contributed to the 27-7 loss with two interceptions and a lost fumble.
NFC Divisional Playoffs Jan. 11, 2004
Honestly, King Brett I isn’t the only who should accept blame for this loss; he wasn’t on the defense that let Philadelphia convert a 4th-and-26 to set up a game-tying field goal at the end of regulation. But Favre, in what is by now officially a pattern, choked in overtime, throwing a ball up for grabs that was intercepted by Brian Dawkins. The Eagles took advantage of the miscue and went on to win the game on a David Akers field goal.
NFC Wild-Card Game Jan. 9, 2005
After winning both regular season games against Minnesota, Green Bay was heavily favored against the 8-8 Vikings in the their first-ever playoff meeting. Vikings QB Daunte Culpepper connected for 4 touchdown passes, while Favre chucked 4 picks, aiding the Vikings to a 31-17 victory.
Packers-Bengals Oct. 30, 2005
In a game that had playoff implications for both teams, King Brett I decided to have Halloween a day early. The future Hall of Famer threw five interceptions in a 21-14 loss. Despite that, the King had a chance to tie the game late in the fourth quarter, at which point he single-handedly stalled a drive at the Bengals 28 by hanging on to the ball too long and being sacked with only seconds left in the game.
Packers-Bears Sept. 10, 2006
Favre had his fair share of memorable moments against Chicago, but this wasn’t one of them. In the first shutout of his then-16-year career, Favre went 15-of-29 passing with two interceptions as the Bears pounded the Packers 26-0.
End of the 2008 season
Its December 1, 2008. King Brett I has the New York Jets at 8-3, including a win over undefeated Tennessee. Favre was looking like an MVP candidate, but then it all went downhill. The King and the Jets finished 9-7; Favre contributing 2 touchdowns and 9 interceptions in those final five games. The Jets missed the playoffs and the Favre era in New York came to an end.
NFC Championship Game Jan. 20, 2008
Playing at frigid Lambeau Field with a Super Bowl berth on the line, the Packers just needed to get past the underdog Giants to advance to Super Bowl XLII. The game went to overtime and the Packers seemed to be in good position when they won the coin toss and elected to receive. But on the second play from scrimmage, King Brett I’s pass to Donald Driver was well short, being picked off by Corey Webster, giving the Giants excellent field position. Lawrence Tynes delivered the game-winning field goal and Favre was left pondering his NFL future…until…
…The Retirement Dance 2008-2009-2010???
While this is an off-the-field issue, the indecision shown here is also reflected in many of the odd choices made by Favre late in big games. Few things in sports have irritated fans as much as Favre’s constant flirtations with retirement. Since 2002, he has talked several times about walking away from the game, only to return the following season. But the King upped the ante with his March 4, 2008 announcement at a teary press conference.
This was followed by the King’s reneging on the deal, announcing his desire to come back to the Packers. But by that time, Green Bay has already named Aaron Rodgers as the starter. After a few weeks of high drama, King Brett I was released by the Packers and signed with the Jets. After a series of debacles ending the season in New York, there was another tear-jerker news conference announcing yet another retirement. Then came the on-again, off-again courtship by Minnesota, and now we find ourselves waiting to see if this soap opera will get a third installment.
NFC Championship Game Jan. 24, 2010
King Brett I came to Minnesota with the idea of winning a Super Bowl. This dream stayed alive until he drove the Vikings down the field late in the fourth quarter. Up until then, it seemed like the Vikings may find a way to overcome four turnovers; like destiny herself was smiling on the Purple. But on third down from the Saints’ 38, Favre violated two cardinal rules they tell you your first day as 9th-grade quarterback:
1) Never throw across your body.
2) Never throw back across the field.
Naturally, Favre’s attempt to Sidney Rice flutters into the hands of Saints cornerback Tracy Porter, forcing the game into overtime. The Saints won the coin toss and the rest is yet another chapter in the volumes of Viking disappointment.
In short, Viking fans, Brett Favre isn’t your past, he just blew your present, and at 40 years old, he clearly can’t be your future. That means it is time to stop drinking the purple Kool-Aid, dethrone the King, and find the quarterback of your future.
As mentioned yesterday, since my Eagles’ playoff run enjoyed Dallas nearly as much as JFK, between now and Super Sunday I will be listing reasons not to care which of the contestants prevails. Today, the New Orleans Saints.
Archie Manning, amongst other things, is the elder statesman of the the franchise, largely for his year of yeoman’s service being mashed into the Superdome turf for those usually-dreadful Saints teams of the 70’s.
Never mind the pseudo-irony of Manning’s offspring leading the Saints’ opponent. Never mind all the “split loyalty” twaddle you will hear over the next two weeks. Archie Manning could have stopped the murders of two people, and chose not to do it.
As the above photo proves, Manning had contact with Simpson prior to the 1994 murders of Nicole Simpson and Ronald Goldman. It was such an “open secret” amongst Saints fans Manning had prior knowledge of these killings they would routinely disguise themselves to deal with the shame.
With two weeks until the Super Bowl, it’s time somebody pointed out why nobody should root for either of these teams. Today’s reason concerns the Indianapolis Colts, more specifically the judgement of their quarterback.
Now, I understand the nature of the “contractually obligated appearance,” but one really needs to exercise some judgement in this area.
If you’re a Colts fan, you have to wonder why your franchise quarterback is more than willing to look like an idiot for no real reason. All that can come of this is to piss off the Star Wars fans whose over-developed need for uber-geeky accuracy who will note that the Colts are hardly the evil masters of the dark side. Instead, they are more like Jabba the Hutt, as evidenced below.
Now that 2009 is in the books, it is time to recognize some truly great achievements in the world of sport that may otherwise go unnoticed. With that, I give you the 2009 Dubsy Awards.
The Mickey Klutts Award for Unfortunate Naming
It is bad enough to be accused of being a male hiding in a female body. It is worse to then be accused of being a hermaphrodite. And it can’t help to be both and have the word “semen” in your name. Which means there was really no choice but to give this award to South African runner Caster Semenya.
The Bobby Knight Award for Achievements in Dramatic Public Meltdowns
While there were several grand moments from which to choose, for me there was none better than the game-losing missed field goal by South Carolina against Georgia that obviously ripped Carolina coach Steve Spurrier’s guts out. While lacking in exuberance, this moment has all the subtle nuances that make genuine anguish so delicious. It’s that moment when the fall from grace is complete; dominance is now irrelevance, and the last vestiges of respectability are gone. You could tell then this was the moment Spurrier quit caring.
The defining moment – the Georgia state troopers fist-bumping as the Ol’ Ball Coach tests the bursting strength of his adult diaper.
Most mascots on horses are meant to be somewhat intimidating. Both the Trojans and the Seminoles offer a guy with some sort of weapon thundering at you on horseback. The Virginia Cavaliers attempted this same scariness, because honestly, what’s more intimidating than a guy in a big, feathery hat? How about one that does an equine faceplant?
The Budd Dwyer Award for Excellence in Career Suicide
There was really no other choice but Oregon running back LeGarrette Blount for punching a Boise State player and offering to take on the whole stadium after he failed to back up his trash-talking on the field. Granted, there was a lot of talk about Tiger Woods, but in the end we knew that story was simply about just another rich guy who can’t keep it in his pants.
By failing to exercise even the slightest bit of self-control, Blount cost himself most of a season on the field and likely reduced his draft stock to meager/non-existent levels.
The Ed Hochuli Award for the Best Call
Sometimes, you don’t even have to be animate to win a Dubsy. This highway sign reflects the immortal words of Jerry Reed, “When you’re hot, you’re hot.”
The Jason Sehorn Award for Being Completely Overrated
Given annually to the player who has become the biggest hero on the least accomplishment, thus making one wonder why said player is so popular. Despite that the namesake of this award was a New York Giant and married to a TV star, he was really best known for being the last white cornerback in the NFL, meaning you saw his name a lot on the back of his jersey as he was chasing another receiver who toasted his ass.
This year’s recipeient continues the tradition of this award’s winner being a defensive “star” in the NFL. The combination of the early season-ending injury to three-time Sehorn award winner Brian Urlacher and the fans of the Minnesota Vikings’ inexplicable love affair with a drunkard dime-store cowboy means the 2009 Sehorn Award belongs to Jared Allen.
Make no mistake about this douchebag’s over-rated nature. He piles up sack numbers against injury replacements or teams that are just flat out sorry like the Lions and the Rams, then becomes a complete non-factor against even moderate offensive line talent. He also is completely useless against the run regardless of the caliber of talent facing him.
It matters little as his drinking problem leaves him one relapse away from his 4th DUI and subsequent suspension from the league.
The Clinton-Nixon Award for Cover-Up Futility
The following three quotes are perfect examples of lies so preposterous they gave away the whole story.
“I did not have sexual relations with that woman.” – Bill Clinton
“I am not a crook.” – Richard Nixon
“I broke the window with a golf club to help get my husband out of the car.” – Elin Woods
Face it, we were all willing to let the whole Tiger Woods car accident thing go as a big “whatever” until we heard that lie. This was the statement that made you wonder why would a guy be fleeing his own house barefoot at three in the morning? Because he was being chased by his wife who wanted to part his hair with a 7-iron. Now, we all know why she was so interested in rearranging his skeletal structure.
The Artis Gilmore Award for Achievements in Hair Boldness
Granted, there is some wild hair going on in professional sports today; a lot of it being just the massive amount of locks sported by the Troy Polamalus of the world. But hair has always been an area of individual expression in the team sport world.
Back in the day, it was Artis Gilmore who broke the mold by being the first to sport the ridiculously huge afro. Sure, that look propagated itself, and is even paid homage to today (e.g. Ben Wallace), but the Dubsy awards committee has always recognized the trend-setter or the convention-breaker.
Hence, one man stands alone with the audacity to embrace the platinum “Fro-Hawk.” The tip of the hat that should be hiding this hair goes to Chad Ochocinco.
The Kyle Orton Award for Achievements in Partying
Really, this is the one award we here at Dubsism would love to give to ourselves. Who would wouldn’t want to be recognized for good, old-fashioned partying fun that doesn’t come at the expense of others?
But this award really begs the question: How much does somebody need to acheive before they deserve to unwind a bit? Does one need to cure cancer, walk on the moon and win a Super Bowl for the Minnesota Cubs Vikings before puritanical America will cut them a break? Everybody hopped on Michael Phelps’ back for smoking a little doobage despite the fact that he is the antithesis of all those anti-drug commercials.
Face it, the guy didn’t spend his whole damn life eating microwave burritos and sponging off his parents; he won enough Olympic gold to give Fort Knox penis envy. Enjoy your award and your next party Michael Phelps. You deserve all the bong hits you want.