The Seahawks traded for defensive end Kentwan Balmer the other day and my initial thought was this: his first name backwards makes about as much sense as it does forwards. That’s all. I had no opinion on the deal otherwise. Maybe the guy can do something. He’s going to have to work extra hard to overcome the goofy-ass name though. Sounds like a second-hand Jedi or something. He’s the Jedi who has to get the other Jedis coffee in the morning. “Hey, Kentwan, head on into the bathroom there and make sure Obi Wan’s okay. His dick ain’t gonna shake itself now!” Kentwan. That’s just bad parenting.
Oh yeah, you’re probably wondering where this article is going. It’s going nowhere. Keep reading though, if you like. I’m feeling on right now. Like on, on. In the zone. Blasting A Whole New World on iTunes. It’s all good, homey.
I was watching the Mariners game today and noticed that Luke French wears sport specs. What are the odds that one, single baseball team would have three pitchers who all wear sport specs on the roster? There has to be some correlation between our suckfest and the specs. Between French, Ryan Rowland-Smith, and Brandon League, sport specs are getting a bad rap. I mean, French is solid, but come on. He’s basically a glorified minor leaguer at this point. He’s no Horace Grant, that’s for sure.
I would imagine that the company that makes these sport specs isn’t too thrilled about watching our pitchers trot out to the mound advertising their product. I liken it being on the freeway and getting cut off by a crap driver, only to catch a glimpse of his bumper sticker as the jackass drives away. That ever happen to you? You think to yourself, “F**k that guy with the Hillary Clinton sticker! And f**k Hillary Clinton, too!” Which immediately leads you to associate anger and frustration with whoever or whatever that jerkoff driver happens to be trying to pimp on the back of his Datsun.
I’ll tell you what. I distinctly remember getting cut off by a dude with a John Kerry bumper sticker once, then immediately reconsidering my vote for Kerry’s ass back in ’04.
Which leads me to this: Putting a politician’s bumper sticker is just bad news. What if your dude loses? What then? Five years down the road you’re the guy with the loser car. Literally. I still see people with Dole/Kemp stickers on their cars. What a bad decision that was. Probably shaved a couple pennies off the resale value of your old-ass indescribable-blue Ford Taurus. Try hawking that car to anyone with that sticker on there. Because everyone wants to pimp Bob Dole fourteen years too late. If they even wanted to do it in the first place, which is doubtful.
Sport specs. Refocus.
I imagine that Chris Sabo watches Mariner games and just sits there puffing a fatty hand-rolled cigarette shaking his head in disgust. For those of you who don’t know Sabo, Google him. I could tell you about him, but you gotta go straight to Google Images to fully understand what he was about. And for the record, he was a chain smoker in an era when smoking in baseball was being phased out. So good for that guy. I don’t smoke, but I enjoy the lingering smell of cigarettes on summer evenings. It’s one of those nostalgic aromas for me. When he was alive, my grandpa used to smoke and we’d visit him in Spokane during the summers. Brings back memories of vacation and baseball and double-wide trailers and the Ramada Inn. So yeah, I feel you smokers. I won’t be joining you, but I can tolerate what you do. In fact, just last week a good friend called me the coolest, most tolerant non-smoker he knows. I believe he was referring more to my tolerance of his pot smoking than his cigarette smoking, but I’ll share the compliment anyways. Oh, and he has a prescription for that weed so it’s all good. At least that’s what he tells me. And I trust him like a brother, so he probably does have that prescription somewhere. I would relay all this to the cops if they ever took him away.
Back to Sabo for a minute. You might recall that he was a half-decent third baseman for a while there with the Reds. Sadly, he kind of fell off the map when Winstrol replaced nicotine as the performance-enhancer of choice. These things will happen. They’re very much unfortunate. But in Sabo’s defense, the only drugs you’ll ever hear him linked to are entirely legal and promoted by companies with names like Camel and Virginia Slims. So yeah, he’s clean in that regard.
Oh hey, did you hear that Brett Favre might be coming back to play another season? Yeah? Well, f**k that guy.
Bumping Rascal Flatts now. I’ve got eclectic musical taste. There was some Biggie in there, too. Pure Prairie League, Doobie Brothers, Justin Bieber, Huey Lewis, and Drake, as well. Moving on.
I’ve seen a lot of Tweets and status updates from people who are reading the Harry Potter books for the first time. Let me tell you something, and pay close attention here, this is imperative to your understanding of the text: Harry is going to get with at least one member of the Weasley family before it’s all said and done. And when I say “get with,” I mean sex. Guaranteed. Those of you who have read the books know what I’m talking about. I won’t say who it is, but just know that HP could be gay. He could be. You don’t know for sure right now. But you’ll probably think about it the rest of the way. It’s gonna happen though. I promise.
Speaking of gingers, last year I kept Kevin Boss as a last-round selection in my fantasy football keeper league. The 11 other guys in my league won’t let me hear the end of it. Yeah, okay, I’ll admit it, I bought into the preseason hype. Every “expert” said Boss was gonna go off. Well guess what, geniuses, he didn’t. He was garbage. And now I’ll never trust a ginger football player ever again. EVER. Not even if the next Drew Brees or Adrian Peterson turns out to be a ginger. I have no faith in the firecrotch.
On one final note, I saw a headline on ESPN.com today that read “Answer Coming.” My first thought was, “If Allen Iverson reads this, he’ll probably wonder how the guys at ESPN already know what he just did.”
And with that, I bid you goodnight.