Editor’s Note: This article is a collaborative effort between J-Dub and Ryan Meehan from First Order Historians. Ryan also has his own blog, East End Philadelphia, which is featured in the Dubsism BlogRoll and it is well worth the read.
Like it or not, fantasy football has become a multi-million dollar business. That’s right, what was once simply just a way to get some non-traditional gambling action on the NFL or a more sporting way of announcing to the world you live in your parent’s basement has become a juggernaut of its own. That’s right, now fantasy football is for more than guys who wear “Mr. Spock” ears while they are down-loading nude photos of that chick from “Big Bang Theory,” and not the hot blond one, either…we’re talking about the one who looks like a short, white version of Scottie Pippen.
That notwithstanding, in this installment of Point-Counterpoint we will break down the pros and cons of fantasy football. As the commissioner of just such a league, J-Dub will take the “Pro” side. Since Meehan is a guy who thinks anybody in a fantasy football league should be fed to giant, Iranian flash-eating cockroaches, he seems like a natural for “con.”
1) It Attracts Too Many “Casual Fans”
For those of you who aren’t bloggers who use WordPress, you may not be familiar with what exactly “Freshly Pressed” is.
Freshly Pressed is a place which features those blogs considered by some unknown entity somewhere out there in the WordPress world to be trendy, entertaining, or essentially having any other positive quality which apparently Dubsism lacks.
Frankly, I’m flummoxed as to what it takes to be granted admittance into the WordPress version of the Promised Land. I will admit, I probably don’t always follow the guidelines, largely because I don’t even know what they are. I’m sure I could find them, but I’m really not that ambitious. Maybe the WordPress gods know I’m secretly lazy and are holding that against me.
But I really can’t appear to be a complete slug; I’ve been blogging on WordPress for over three years now, and I’ve written over 650 posts. The odds are prohibitively against all of them being foul, obscene, offensive or just plain lousy. After all, even a blind blogger finds a nut once in a while.
Like I said, I’m not really sure what the Freshly Pressed commissars consider worthy, but I can at least guess at the basics.
I’m pretty sure you can’t be profane. So, I’ll make sure I keep this [EXPLETIVE DELETED] post clean.
I’d also bet being offensive won’t get you anywhere. So, I won’t mention a word about those [EXPLETIVE DELETED] [REDACTED] I don’t like.
Needless to say, I probably can’t post pictures of topless porn stars and remain Freshly Pressed Friendly. I’m guessing that anything deemed Freshly Pressed-friendly involves no nudity or anything really pornographic…like actual intercourse or anything said by a politician.
The one thing I won’t change is what Dubsism is really all about. Not only is Dubsism a blog dedicated to my opinions about sports, but it is staying that way. Yeah, I know I’m not writing about sports now, and I get that I’m actually doing a bit of what I’m saying I won’t do, so there’s no need to leave me some pseudo-pithy comment misusing the term “irony.”
The problem is that blogs about sports seem to be the red-headed step-child of WordPress. They have about as much chance of making Freshly Pressed as Michael Vick does of winning an award from PETA. The genesis of Dubsism was to be an outlet for my sport-related rants, and were that outlet to change, the consequences could range from my marriage ending to my becoming a murder victim. Mrs. Dubsism is a very tolerant character, but if she has to hear many more of my anti-Los Angeles Dodger tirades, she won’t be far from picking up our old-school cast-iron skillet while thumbing through my life-insurance policy and weighing her options.
So, here’s the deal.
Obviously, I’m not beyond shameless self-promotion; otherwise, you wouldn’t be reading this blatant attempt to curry the favor of whoever controls Freshly Pressed. Obviously, nothing I’ve done up to this point merits the attention of these people. Obviously, I need to up the ante.
Like the title says, if I don’t get a post on “Freshly Pressed” soon, I’m going to eat a bug. Just so we are clear here, I’m not talking about some sort of tree-hugger “let’s all save the earth” sort of bug eating. I’m talking about some truly nasty stuff that gets people who over do it killed.
For further clarity, let’s all understand I have no intention of offing myself through some self-serving act of entomophagy. I just want the same recognition that some really lousy blogs get. This blog sucks enough to be recognized, and if I don’t get it, I’m going to suck down some sort of bug.
Here’s where you come in. Rather than just arbitrarily deciding for myself what sort of bug I should eat, I’m going to leave it up to you.
Signs We Are Near The End Of Civilization: The University of Tennessee Brings The Term “Butt-Chugging” to the Public Consciousness
First of all, we need to define “butt-chugging.”
From Urban Dictionary:
Butt Chugging – The act of ingesting alcohol through one’s rectum. The idea is to increase the alcohol’s effect and the speed with which one becomes intoxicated.
OK, now that you know that, you likely won’t be shocked to discover the story which spawned post originated in a college fraternity. If you are familiar with the SEC, you won’t be shocked to heat the fraternity in question is at Tennessee (or your shocked it wasn’t at Georgia, but that’s another story).
Now that you understand the premise here, you’ve likely already figured out there are two ways to cover this story. First, there is the serious way, because there are some serious implications here. From USA Today:
The University of Tennessee has indefinitely suspended a fraternity for allegedly giving a 20-year-old student an “alcohol enema” that sent him to the hospital last weekend, WBIR-TV reports.
Pi Kappa Alpha pleaded guilty to seven charges of misconduct related to underage drinking Sept. 22 and two charges for an Aug. 31 incident. Monday, the university and the international fraternity took initial steps to suspend the Knoxville “Z chapter” of the “Pikes.” The chapter surrendered its charter today.
I’m not going to get all “After-School Special” here, but underage drinking, particularly this sort of binge drinking, does get people killed. There’s nothing funny about that.
The university said in a statement that it “will not consider allowing the fraternity to reorganize at UT until spring 2015. The university reserves the right to extend the suspension as deemed appropriate.”
Early last Saturday, Alexander “Xander” Broughton was brought to the university medical center with a blood alcohol level of .448, more than five times the legal limit, says the station, which owned by Gannett, USA TODAY’s parent. Police believe he and other fraternity members were given alcohol “enemas,” in which rubber tubing is inserted into the rectum to bypass the liver and speed the effects of booze.¹ Photos showed the frat house littered with boxes of wine, trash and blood.²
I refuse to make jokes in this section, which is why passages here have been foot-noted for later reference. Again, this kid could have ended up dead or brain-damaged from a blood alcohol content that high, and again, there’s nothing funny about that.
Broughton and his family have denied the “enema” claims, however, according to WBIR, a.k.a. 10News.
Broughton’s father, Mark, told 10News that his son’s medical records show his son’s liver was “fried,” proving to him that his son drank the wine rather than ingested it via an enema.
Mark Broughton said the wine was all consumed during a game of “Tour de Franzia,” a wine-chugging game also noted in the police report. During that game, players pass around the bags from boxes of wine and chug the alcohol, seeing who can finish first without vomiting.
Both Broughton’s father and the police report note that Xander Broughton won the game that night.³
Mark Broughton also told 10News that fraternity members are gathering signed affidavits to dispute the information that has been released. Those affidavits reportedly deny that the alcohol enemas took place on the night in question or ever.
Based on Broughton’s injuries when he arrived at the hospital, campus police initially believed he had been sexually assaulted.
There’s a key to all of this hidden in those last two sentences, and if you are a regular reader of this blog, you know I’ve got little chance of going much farther with this topic staying on the serious side. That brings us to the Dubsism way to cover it, because for all that other stuff we said isn’t funny, there an ass-load of stuff that is (yeah, that pun was totally intended…)
First, here’s the list of jokes I refused to make in the “serious” section, BUTT you know damn good and well I couldn’t pass them up.
- “Police believe he and other fraternity members were given alcohol ‘enemas,’ in which rubber tubing is inserted into the rectum to bypass the liver and speed the effects of booze.” Seems times have changed. Back in my day, you gave college girls booze so you could get more than a rubber tube into them.
- “Photos showed the frat house littered with boxes of wine, trash and blood.” Not so much on the blood, but you could easily get pictures of my house littered with empty wine containers as Mrs. Dubsism lover herself some wine. But I would never let her “butt-chug” it, not because there’s anything weird about that, it’s just when she’s drinking, at least she’s not fucking talking.
- “Both Broughton’s father and the police report note that Xander Broughton won the game that night.” Congratulations, dumbass. There are no winners in a game in which the “winners” end up in the emergency room. Even guys like Rob Dyrdek, who makes a living off people taking serious skateboard-related groin damage know that.
Second, let’s just boil this down to the essentials here, because no matter in which order you put the cars, this train is headed to Bad Shit Happening City.
This story takes place at a college fraternity, which is just an incubator for bad shit.
This story involves alcohol, which is just steroids for bad shit.
As we go through this story, no matter whose version you believe, somebody got something stuck up their butt, and more often than not, that situation either starts out bad, and even if it doesn’t, it has far too much potential to go horribly wrong, at which you are right back in Bad Shit Happening City.
Having said all that, let’s look at a style of coverage more in tune with the Dubsism philosophy.
The University of Tennessee had quite the scandal […] when a member of the Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity was accused of butt chugging wine. The alleged butt chugger was hospitalized with a reported .4 BAC, and the fraternity was eventually suspended. Today, the entire fraternity held a press conference to deny accusations that the accused butt chugger, Alexander P. Broughton, actually butt chugged any wine.
Tongue twister time: How much wine would a butt-chugger chug if a butt-chugger butt-chugged wine?
Somebody wants us to believe the answer is none. I’m willing to buy that, because thankfully, I wasn’t there. I don’t know for sure what happened. But I do know there was a belief amongst law enforcement and/or medical personnel based on professional observation that something had been stuck in this kid’s butt.
If it wasn’t wine, then what was it? And if it wasn’t wine, then why did the story take the following twist?
As Outkick the Coverage notes, it’s hard to determine which part is the funniest/most shameful for the fraternity and their lawyer, Daniel McGehee. But I’m going to go with the part where, within the first two minutes, McGehee adamantly denies that that the alleged butt chugger is gay.
“Mr. Broughton denies each and every allegation whatsoever that has been inferred that he may have been a gay man. He is a straight man. And he thinks the idea and concept of butt chugging is repulsive.”
I’m not going to cast any aspersions here. Just go to the video at the bottom of this page and see it for yourself. Right below that video, commenter MauryCompson offers the perfect summation of that press conference.
“And now to prove that he is not a homosexual butt chugger, my client will have this box of pink Zinfandel poured into his anus. Look at him folks! Does he appear to be enjoying this? Does that look like a man who is a homosexual butt chugger? Look how the wine erupts from his sphincter! Look at his grimace! Not convinced? Watch as his fraternity brother rubs his genitals on my client’s face. Does he look happy? Does he look aroused? I invite any male member of the press to come up and fondle his penis and balls! Go ahead place it in your mouth, tickle his balls! He will not get erect! I would now like to answer any questions the media might have.”
What’s not a mystery is this kid got a lot of booze into his body via some route of entry, the lab reports don’t lie. But the real mystery here isn’t how this kid ended up with a blood-alcohol content north of .4; the real question here is two-fold.
First of all, why is this kid so worried about the gay thing? It does sound a bit like “thou dost protest too much.” Not that there’s anything wrong with that…
Second of all, what was actually was in this kid’s butt? I’m certainly no expert on this subject, but thanks to on of my former jobs, I can definitely nominate a full-blown expert in the field. Once upon a time, I was a an IT security dude, a gig which largely consisted of cleaning up and tracking all the porn you perverts download at work. To make a long story short, I’ve seen it all, and while I’m not necessarily happy about that, it does allow me to offer the perfect person to solve this mystery.
Enter porn star Ava Devine. If you aren’t familiar with with woman’s work, let me put it this way. If there were a “Sticking Things In Your Butt Hall of Fame,” Devine would easily slide in on the first ballot. Jokes aside, there can’t be anybody on the face of the planet who would know more about rear entry and the results thereof.
Having said that, I’m not she has ever butt-chugged. Well, not wine, anyway.
Editor’s Note: This article is a collaborative effort between Dubsism and Ryan Meehan from First Order Historians. Ryan also has his own blog, East End Philadelphia, which is featured in our BlogRoll and it is well worth the read.
Lately, all the attention for bad ownership has been focused on that shithead who owns the Los Angeles Dodgers and the horse-thief who owns the New York Mets. But the fires created by these two douche-nozzles are sucking the oxygen out of a room full of bad owners; these are guys who really should not be slipping under anybody’s radar.
There’s really three main types of owners who are bad for sports. There’s the “only in it for the money” guy, there’s the “I’m the owner so I know everything about this sport” guy, and there’s the “Incompetent and/or Insane” guy. Peruse the following list and remember, some owners may represent more than one type.
15) Jeremy Jacobs, Boston Bruins
This pick may be hard to understand considering the Bruins just won the Stanley Cup, and a great deal of you don’t give a rat’s ass about hockey. However, that recent victory still doesn’t hide the fact that for most of his nearly 40 years of ownership, the Bruins have had one of the lowest payrolls in the league despite the fact Boston is a Top 10 market. This would be like buying the best strip club in town and filling it with chicks who look like Tim Tebow.
It also helps to remember that before 2009, the Bruins went for a decade without winning a playoff series, largely because even when Jacobs had stars like Ray Bourque or Cam Neely, he never put enough of a supporting cast around them to make the team a winner. In other words, Jacobs is the first on this list of what will prove to be a long line of cheapskate assholes.
14) Jerry Jones, Dallas Cowboys
Jerry Fucking Jones…where do we start? The Dallas Cowboys are one of the most storied franchises in the NFL, and we’ve all had that “America’s Team” bullshit rammed so far down our throats that little brown drops of it land in our shorts every time we sneeze.
We are convinced that at least half of all currently worshipped deities hate the Cowboys because the Gods keep fucking with them. You know they were sitting around in some big “God” club drinking whatever “God” type dudes drink laughing their collective “God” asses off when Tony Romo fumble-dicked that extra point hold against the Seahawks a few years back. The best part was that was a year where the NFC was weaker than no-alcohol beer as hell and the Cowboys were flying down the E-Z Pass lane toward the Super Bowl until Romo slammed the bus into the toll booth.
Even though they have tons of moments like that in their history, nobody ever seems to remember the Cowboys haven’t won shit in 15 years. That’s pretty much Jerry’s fault. Nobody ever seems to remember Jones has a long track record of making some of the stupidest decisions (Dave Campo, Chan Gailey, and Wade Phillips for openers…) because he IS the front office. Nobody ever seems to remember Jones is a megalomaniac who has a thirst for power rivaled only by Kim Kardashian’s thirst for B-grade jock spooge.
That amnesia on Jerry Jones completely escapes me since sports fans hate him more than groin kicks and flat beer combined. He’s the perfect guy for blue-collar America to hate because blue-collar America loves to blame all its problems on big money businessman, especially if they are obnoxious Texans who own sports teams. Its like he’s a drunker, louder version of George W. Bush.
Bush gets blamed for everything from male pattern baldness to the terribly high lesbian ratio in the LPGA, yet Jones gets a free pass for screwing up the Super Bowl by selling tickets to seats that were not usable. Plus, it’s a nuclear-powered level of hilarious that he worked his spotted, flabby ass off to get the Super Bowl in his very own building only to watch his team leave their season floating in the locker room shitter. Hey, if they’re America’s Team, and America loves to hate, l then we’re just being patriotic.
13) Charles Wang, New York Islanders
It’s time to play a little game-show we like to call “Stereotype.” You would think that an Asian guy who got rich building his own computer company would be good at math, right? Sorry, but if you were to assume that about Wang, you would be hearing a loud buzzer right about now and finding out about our lovely consolation prizes.
It takes a special kind of idiot to buy a sports franchise in an era of explosive growth and actually find a way to lower the value of the franchise, and Wang is that special kind of idiot. Wang bought the Islanders in 2000, and since has found a way to wang himself out of millions through some seriously stupid decisions.
First, the fact he employed Mike Milbury speaks for itself. His nickname “Mad Mike” doesn’t really lend creedence to what a terrible general manager he was; were he in the NFL, he would have made Matt Millen look like a fucking genius. Hockey fans remember monstrous Milbury moves like inking an underachieving Alexei Yashin to a 10-year, $87.5 million deal, trading away star goaltender Roberto Luongo for a case of urinal cakes, and taking Rick DiPietro with the first pick in the 2000 NHL entry draft ahead of future stars Dany Heatley and Marian Gaborik. To top it all off, it was Milbury’s idea to sign DiPietro to a franchise-risking 15-year, $67.5 million contract extension which at the time it was signed was the biggest sports contract in history.
Sadder still is the fact the atrocities committed by Milbury with Wang’s blessing aren’t even the worst. My favorite Wang jerk-off move happens to be when he hired Neil Smith as general manager in 2006, only to fire him 40 days later and replace him with the backup goalie.
Things have gone so bad there is talk of this franchise leaving New York for Kansas Fucking City. Seriously, what could Kansas City offer over New York? More corn? Fatter chicks? A night life as exciting as spending an evening with your face buried in George Brett’s ass crack?
Not to mention, the NHL already failed in Kansas City. To find the old “Kansas City Scouts,” you have to look under “New Jersey Devils.”
12) Peter Angelos, Baltimore Orioles
Peter Angelos is Greek, and according to the Urban Dictionary, “greek” is a euphemism for anal sex. This is fitting, because nobody has butt-fucked Baltimore baseball more than Angelos has.
Before Angelos, the O’s were one of the most storied franchises in baseball; they had been to the World Series six times in the 25 years prior to Angelos. The O’s won three World Series Championships in that time. Now in the nearly two decades of Angelos’ ownership, the Orioles have made only two post-season appearances.
The contract that exemplifies Angelos’ extreme dumb-assery was the deal he inked with Albert Belle. This gargantuan bank-buster made Belle the highest paid player in baseball. Despite the fact Belle’s career would be in the shitter two years later, due to the terms of the contract he had to remain on the Orioles’ roster for the final three years of the deal.
But the biggest “peter” Angelos has wedged into the collective anus of Balitmorians everywhere is the fact there are a ton of Hall-of-Famers who have no role within the Orioles’ organization simply because Angelos’ values his pride more than his franchise.
First off, I stand by the story. Every single word.
Orioles’ owner Peter Angelos and Hall of Famer Cal Ripken, Jr. have taken turns denying parts of my report from last Friday, the gist of which was that Angelos recently declined to hire Ripken to help his wonderful team.Both declined opportunities to comment before I went with the story, and that’s fine.
Both dispute that Angelos told Ripken he didn’t want Ripken to receive credit once the team returned to prominence — a detail confirmed by three sources — and that’s fine, too. But now that both are in such talking moods, I have a few more questions, mostly for Angelos.
- Why isn’t Ripken already working for the Orioles?
- Why isn’t Brooks Robinson involved with the team?
- Why isn’t Frank Robinson?
- Why is a franchise with such a glorious history not taking better advantage of someof the greatest natural resources the game has to offer?
Funny, I don’t think it’s because the Orioles have all the answers.
A number of former Orioles — including Hall of Famers Jim Palmer and Eddie Murray —serve the club as paid broadcasters, but the O’s need to draw from their tradition inways that go beyond Boog Powell cooking ribs on Eutaw Street. It’s damning — and a direct reflection on Angelos’ tone-deaf ownership — that Hall ofFamers Ripken, Brooks Robinson and Frank Robinson are nowhere to be found at Camden Yards.
What else can you say? Angelos is that kind of guy as described by Gunnery Sergeant Hartman in Full Metal Jacket – “He’s the kind of person who would fuck somebody in the ass and not even have the common courtesy to give them a reach-around.”
11) Joe Lacob and Peter Guber, Golden State Warriors
Granted, The Warriors have been a doormat of the NBA for two generations now, and granted, they just bought the team from Chris Cohan, a douchebag worthy of this list in his own right because under Cohan, they missed the playoffs every year from 1994 to 2007. That’s the longest drought in NBA history. The single shining moment of non-suckititude came in 2007 when they upset the #1 playoff seed Dallas Mavericks.
Lacob and Guber get on this list for being David Stern’s poster-children in his attempt to cut the balls off the NBA player’s union. Something stinks about the way these two fuckwads got into the ownership ranks. The “sale” was rigged; it included $150 million in league loans to get it done and the league forced multiple small percentage owners to raise the cash for the “sale” after the supposed bid was completed in July 2010. The whole reason these two exist are to be more of Stern’s stormtroopers against the union.
10) William Clay Ford, Detroit Lions
You’ll notice a theme developing here; one of a franchise having success until it was purchased by a hemmorhoid with a big wallet. Picture a time when the Lions weren’t a dingleberry on the anus of the NFL. You’ll have to set the Wayback Machine for the 1950’s, when Lions arguably were the most successful team in the league. They appeared in four NFL Championship Games, winning three.
Then, in 1964 William Clay Ford purchased the Lions and they have not been in a championship game since. In the 47 years Ford has owned the Lions, they have a single playoff win. Even the Bengals and Cardinals have more than that. That’s fucking pathetic.
Right now, the Lions fins themselves digging out of a hole dug by the steam-shovel of suck known as Matt Millen. Lets’ make one thing clear; we don’t have an issue with Millen as a broadcaster. He was simply the prototypical shitty general manager. He took a franchise that was already in the shitter and kept inventing ways to keep shitting on it. By the time he was done, the Lions’ franchise was like the Matterhorn of shit.
Watching Millen manage was like watching a retard masturbate. His eight-year jack-off-to-nowhere spree as head of the franchise led to the worst record in the history of the modern NFL (31-97 / .319), yet it took Ford until a month into the 2008 season to fire his ass. Billboards were actually being erected in Detroit, some which simply said “Fire Millen.” Others had a picture of what the Lions’ Super Bowl ring would have looked like, captioned with “Not this MILLENium.” Not like it mattered, English has been spoken only as third language in Detroit ever since they burned the city to the ground in the 60s.
Plus, the only time people read billboards is when they are on their way to work. Since nobody in Detroit has a goddamn job (because Ford also sucks at running a car company) the only people that noticed were the national media.
9) Daniel Snyder, Washington Redskins
It’s no fucking wonder that a guy who is the chairman of the board and majority owner of a chain of amusement parks would make watching the Redskins a roller-coaster of nausea. Snyder purchased the Redskins in 1999, and since then its been far more down than up on the Redskin roller-coaster.
In fact, there’s been no up; 1999 was the best season the Redskins had since their last Super Bowl win in 1991. It’s no accident 1999 also happens to be the best season they have had during Snyder’s tenure. Snyder loves to spend like the proverbial drunken sailor, but he also gets drunken results. He’s replaced a Pro Bowl quarterback (Brad Johnson) with an aging head case (Jeff George). He pumped a Potomac River of money into a washed-up Bruce Smith and a way past primetime Deion Sanders. He thought Richie Pettibone, Norv Turner, Jim Zorn, and Steve “ol’ Ball Coach” Spurrier were NFL head coaches.
If you have any question as to how football-clueless Snyder is, just look at the last eighteen months. In that period, he signed Donovan McNabb (only to trade him to the Vikings for a ham sandwich, a move made much more hilarious by the fact Snyder is Jewish), made virtually no improvement in quite possibly the most active offseason free agency period in the history of the NFL. Of course, there is no need to improve on a team that in a single game elevated Michael Vick’s status in white America from “degenerate dog killer” to “allowed to doggie-fuck my daughter.”
Now Washington should actually be a good team, not one that needs a minor miracle to beat a shitheap franchise like Detroit. The franchise has a prime location (there’s a lot of money in DC), they have a huge, new stadium, and they have a ton of history. Not even the liberal cry-babys who bitch about everything don’t give a fuck about this team, otherwise you’d be hearing their bitching about that “racist” nickname somewhere other than Rachel Maddow’s penis.
The really messed-up part is that Snyder has done incredibly well with the Redskins from a business standpoint; the Redskins are the second-most valuable franchise in the league. Of course that success doesn’t keep him off this list as he has stooped to such extreme ass-hattery like suing his very own season ticket holders to ensure that the Redskins remain profitable.
8 ) Al Davis, Oakland Raiders
For those of you under 30, you may not believe there was a time when Al Davis wasn’t a batshit crazy Cryptkeeper look-alike and the Raiders were not the laughing stock of the NFL. In an 18-year span during the 70’s and 80’s, the Raiders won 13 division championships, made 15 playoff appearances, and took home three Lombardi trophies. This is the era when the Raiders were the winningest team in all of professional sports, and love him or hate him, Davis was a respected and visionary leader who helped build the AFL into a league so successful the NFL couldn’t beat it so they joined with it.
But somewhere along the line; somewhere right around 1992, it all went wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.
Since 1992, the Raiders have had just five winning seasons. Their 2002 Super Bowl crushing at the hands of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers led to a stretch of seven straight season in which the Raiders never won more than 5 games, and they have yet to have a winning season since then.
How can this happen? Simple. Davis is destroying that which he built. You could call it “suicide by head coach and draft pick.”
Rather than list the rash of terrible draft picks the Raiders have made in the last decade, let’s focus on the most telling.
“JaMarcus Russell is a good quarterback” – Al Davis
Davis drafted JaMarcus Russell in 2007, and he got glowing reviews from a lot sports “experts” at the time, despite the fact there were some warning signs he would become “fat and lazy.”
Other NFL scouts literally shattered bones in their haste to jump off the Russell bandwagon once they heard him talk about how much he was going to “relax and eat” after the draft.
Other teams thought it was sheer insanity to pay roughly the gross domestic product of Australia to a completely unproven rookie.
Most other owners would have seen their big-money rookie fatting up like a Christmas goose, especially since that rookie holdout made him miss all of training camp and several weeks of the regular season.
Most other owners would realize that when his big-money rookie has cheeseburgered his way into being JaMarcus the Hutt, that’s nobody but the big-money rookie’s fault.
Most other owners would realize when the head coach says the big-money rookie sucks, he probably sucks.
When Lane Kiffin dared tell Al that JaMarcus Russell was as much an NFL quarterback as Jayne Russell, Al told Kiffin that Russell didn’t suck…he did.
“He is a great player. Get over it and coach this team on the field. That is what you were hired to do. We can win with this team.”
Then he did Kiffin the best favor he possibly could by firing him.
The beauty was that off-season proved to be a delicious one, Russell showed up at camp so fat he exerted his own gravitational pull. He was putting Shake N’ Bake in his Gatorade. When he wasn’t gasping for air or sweating bacon grease, he was showing his “commitment to excellence” by snoozing through team meetings, or just skipping them to go on a bling-gasm in Las Vegas.
Finally, even Al had to see his big-money rookie was just big. Four sets of “back-titties” big. Before being released, rumors were that Russell was well over 300 pounds, far above the 255 he weighed in his prime just 3 years prior. It takes a lot of prime rib to get that far away from your prime in only 3 fucking years.
But the Kiffin thing takes us back to Al’s relationships with his head coaches in the past 20 years.
Al hired Bill Callahan, a head coach who inspired so much trust in his players they accused him of ” sabotaging the season.” To regain their trust, Callahan said the Raiders were “the dumbest team in America in terms of playing the game.” We must admit we really don’t understand that motivational technique, but it worked since Callahan was the last coach to post a winning record in Oakland and the last to lead the Raiders to the Super Bowl.
Then it starts to get scary. Let’s look at the lowlights…Al hired Norv Turner as coach; the Raiders went a combined 9-23 in his two seasons. Al hired Art Shell twice, the first time went OK; the second brought a franchise-worst 2-14 record.
Then, Al hired Lane Kiffin, threatened to fire him on a weekly basis, and when he finally did, it was a great moment in “Crotchety Old Man” history; Al held a press conference during which he put his “Kiffin Bitch List” on an overhead projector! You read that right, it was the dawn of the 21st century, and in the shadow of Silicon Valley, and Al is using the same technology as your Dad’s 5th-grade teacher.
Then, Al hired Tom Cable, a man who most famously broke the jaw of his assistant coach with a sucker punch, then threatened to kill him.
The thing all of us can see that Al can’t is the Raiders have massive trust issues. Al doesn’t trust his coaches to make good draft selections, Al’s players don’t trust his coaches, the fans don’t trust Al’s “commitment to excellence” enough to purchase season tickets, and even those of us who don’t give a fuck about the Raiders don’t trust their franchise not to suck.
What this all comes down to is Al Davis is old and he’s lost it. Nobody like hearing that because it reminds us all our time is coming; it’s disturbing to know someday we will all no longer be able to control when we do and do not shit ourselves. Most people who are lucky enough to live that long don’t run their own professional sports team. Even though Al Davis is now the kind of boss that walks into your office and gives you the choice of lancing a boil on his back or letting him drop his band-aid into your coffee (and you MUST drink it), he’s still just an old man who needs to retire so we don’t have to keep watching him shit his pants.
7) Tom Ricketts, Chicago Cubs
Tom Ricketts is the CEO of of Incapital LLC, a Chicago, an investment bank that packages corporate bonds for retail investors. He’s also the son of the guy who founded Ameritrade, so if you the typical blue-collar American who gets off on o hating people who are born into money, this is a good place to start.
The Cubs suffer from a lack of real direction, and this is partially Ricketts’ fault. He took over the Cubs in the beginning of 2009, inheriting the Alfonso Soriano contract, which might be considered a good deal if the entire planet’s economy ran off of how much money we could all light on fire all at once. Since then, the Cubs have grown one of the highest payrolls in baseball, and have one of the worst records. They’re in a market that is extremely critical of all of their sports teams, and radio is brutal even when your winning. Just ask the last season’s Chicago Bears.
Since Meehan is a regular guest on a Chicago Cubs internet radio (insert shameless plug for ivyenvy.com here) you might expect him to have more of an opinion on Ricketts. But the truth is, unless the Cubs go on a five game winning streak, the guy’s a fucking ghost. (Editor’s note: The Cubs didn’t win five in a row this season until last week.) To be quite honest with you, if Meehan’s producer hadn’t attended a press conference with Ricketts a few weeks back http://ivyenvy.com/?p=6034, he might fall into that same level of “does he exist” along with Sasquatch and Oprah Winfrey’s heterosexuality.
Let’s just put it this way, Ricketts and his family believed in 2009 the Cubs were worth 900 million dollars with a relic of a stadium that’s falling apart and countless personnel and financial issues, and he hasn’t done much to change it.
6) Mike Brown, Cincinnati Bengals
Sometimes taking over the family business isn’t as easy as it looks. But when you get handed the keys to an organization built by a legend and you fuck it up beyond belief…that’s how you end up one of the most hated owners in sports.
Welcome to the world of Mike Brown. When the legendary Paul Brown passed away in 1991, Mike Brown assumed control of the Bengals. Since then, the Bengals’ record is a cesspool-worthy 124-211-1, with a single playoff appearance.
If the cavalcade of losing wasn’t enough to make fans want to piss in his hollowed-out skull, Brown continues to give the Bengal faithful all the reason they would need to want to drag his lifeless corpse around Paul Brown Stadium.
For some reason ESPN has continued to report on the Cincinnati Bengals situation. For the longest time, it was a complete fucking mystery why the World Wide Leader gives a tire-squished shit about the Queen City Kitties. But we finally figured it out.
ESPN is betting on curiosity…curiosity as to what will finally kill the Cats’ owner.
Will it be his ability to pinch a penny so hard he can make Abe Lincoln fart? Brown is notorious as cheapskate asshole. The Bungles have the most understaffed scouting departments in the league and he simply does not spend money on free-agents.
Perhaps, it will be his colossal stubborn streak. If there’s anything we’ve learned in the past, it’s that Mike Brown is one of the most stubborn owners in professional sports, and that also makes him exceptionally stupid. He steadfastly refuses to hire a general manager, which may explain this team’s terrible record.
He refused to grant Carson Palmer a trade, thus forcing Palmer to call Brown’s bluff and retire, thus forcing Brown to eat his value and not reap any of the benefits of such a trade. Granted, Palmer is also a total dick; he made it no secret that he thought Ohio sports fans were weak and simple since Day One. But when you consider all of the bullshit he had to put up with during his tenure with the Bengals, one can clearly see Brown is a dick of a higher order.
Not to mention Brown was the one who kept letting Chad Johnson act like a jackass, all the while believing that Chris Henry was going to turn his life around only to see him die by falling out of the back of a truck.
These issues are just the tip of the Brown-hating iceberg. Anyway you slice it, Bengals’ fans strive to ensure Brown knows they hate him, ranging from boycotts to erecting billboards to an anti-Brown website, fans in the Queen City have been nothing short of creative in their efforts.
What it comes down to is that Brown isn’t really a big dick; he’s actually a tiny, little dick who can’t get out from under the shadow of Daddy. Brown has been for years trying to prove to the sports media and the fans that on his watch the Bengals won’t take any shit from anybody and that you’d better do what he tells you if you know what’s good for you.
Typical pathetic little raisin-sac bullshit.
But in the end, it’s obvious nobody thinks Brown matters so nobody pays any attention to his false pride largely because nobody gave a fuck to begin with. After all, if you know you can’t finish higher than 3rd in your division for the next decade, then what the fuck difference does your pride make?
5) David Glass, Kansas City Royals
Glass may have been a great business executive, but he’s a shitty owner. In ten seasons as owner of the Royals, his team has finished and in that time – they have finished with a record above .500 just once, have lost 100 games or more four times, and have averaged nearly 95 losses for every season of the Glass regime.
Prior to his purchase of the Royals, Glass was the CEO of Wal-Mart. This is where he earned the reputation as one of the nation’s premier executives. In business, the Glass model was rather successful; reasonable products at dirt-cheap prices. That’s the same approach Glass has used with the Royals, and while the team’s revenue has increased every year, on the field performance and the player salaries have not.
This makes Glass the perfect representative of the parasitic effect silly things like “luxury taxes” in baseball have. They actually make it possible to be profitable and terrible at the same time, which is a cancer on the world of sport, not just baseball.
4) Jeffrey Loria, Florida Marlins
Very few people have shown the ability to drive a franchise over the brink, and this turdpipe has done it twice. Of course, what should we expect from a guy who made his money as an “art dealer?” I bet it isn’t even “real” art, I bet it is that “Elvis on black velvet” crap you see being sold at abandoned gas stations hanging on a chain-link fence.
There’s no coincidence in the fact that he owned two teams long rumored to be on the contraction block. His refusal to put any money in the Montreal Expos guaranteed their sale to MLB so they could be reborn as the Nationals and so he could buy the Marlins. His dismal leadership immediately placed the Marlins in a “build a new stadium or face the consequences” dilemma; and Miami knuckled under…the new ball park opens next season.
3) Bill Bidwill, Arizona Cardinals
The Bidwill family has owned the Cardinals for close to 50 years. In that time, have one exactly four playoff games. Three of those came a few years back when the Cards made that miracle run to the Super Bowl. Just the fact he is holding an NFC Championship trophy is proof a blind squirrel can occasional find a nut.
A common comparison is that the Cardinals are the Clippers of the NFL; it would be more accurate to say the Clippers who are the Cardinals of the NBA. The Cards have been the model were the model of dysfunctionality in the sports when the Clippers franchise were still the Buffalo Braves. The comparison stems largely from the fact these are both franchises that have had to move twice because of horrid ownership decisions.
2) James Dolan, New York Knicks and New York Rangers
James Dolan’s reign as the owner of the New York Knicks and Rangers has been an exercise in following the Steinbrenner model with the Yankees of the 80s; money does not cure bad decisions. Since 1999 when Dolan took control of both franchises, fans of both teams would be well within their rights to join the paper bag squad.
Dolan has pumped a river of money into the Rangers; they have the highest average salary in the NHL, yet they have only made the playoffs four times and have not once been past the semifinals. There’s a school of thought which believes the blame should fall on general manager Glen Sather, but the people who think that rode to that school on the short bus.
First of all, Dolan refuses to fire Sather despite his blatant incompetence. Second of all, Sather doesn’t control the Knicks, who have exactly the same problems, which makes Dolan the common thread. Dolan has overseen the Knicks through nearly a decade full of seasons of fewer than 40 wins, to go along with just two playoff appearance, despite having one of the top payrolls in the NBA.
Then’s there whole Isiah Thomas fiasco. Insert your own rant on that mess here.
1) Donald Sterling, Los Angeles Clippers
Sterling is possibly the best example of a guy being both a genius businessman and a complete shit-stain in the Fruit of the Looms of the sports world. There’s so many ways to look at the sporting idiocy that is Donald Sterling. There’s the numbers:
- 31 – Number of seasons he has owned the Clippers
- 2 – Number of seasons they have finished with a winning record
- .341 – Team winning percentage in those seasons
That is Donald Sterling’s sports resume in nutshell; great for the bankbook, lousy for on-the-court performance. The team has been a joke for over three decades, but Sterling keeps laughing all the way to the bank. Sterling has faithfully followed the model of keeping the payroll at “paying in recyclable cans” levels of cheap to maximize profit while never once giving a damn about the won-loss column. The Clippers have finished in the Draft Lottery so many times they’ve seen more balls than an Ava Devine gang-bang.
I know it won’t come as a shock to read that a miser like Sterling might also be just a bad human being. What kind of guy heckles his own players? We can’t imagine this would be productive under any circumstance, but of all of the sports where this would be a bad idea, basketball would have to be the worst. To top it off, of the all players not to piss off, you might think Baron Davis would be in the top five. For that matter, how sweet would it have been if Rasheed Wallace had ever played for the Clippers? He would have killed Sterling. Just picture ‘Sheed “keeping it real” by yanking Donnie Boy’s bow-tied ass out of his seat and dribbling his head off the scorer’s table for about five minutes.
I’m not sure there is a more telling commentary of Sterling complete level of tone-deafness than this:
It is actually fitting to use Blake Griffin in this ad. He is only half black, and this attempt by Sterling to reach out to the black community was completely half-assed, if for no other reason that Black History Month is in February.
But of all the stories, allegations, accusations and observations, this is my favorite:
“While ignoring my suggestions and isolating me from decisions customarily reserved for general managers, the Clippers attempted to place the blame for the team’s failures on me,” Baylor said in the declaration. “During this same period, players Sam Cassell, Elton Brand and Corey Maggette complained to me that DONALD STERLING would bring women into the locker room after games, while the players were showering, and make comments such as, ‘Look at those beautiful black bodies.’ I brought this to Sterling’s attention, but he continued to bring women into the locker room.”
There you have it, fifteen owners who haven’t been getting the attention they deserve. Like we’ve said, just because the world is fixated on the antics of the Frank McCourts and Fred Wilpons of the world, these guys still need to have the light shone on them; there’s no better disinfectant than sunlight.
-J-Dub and Meehan