MichaelLortz.com/JordiScrubbings.com

Fool-la-la-la

This is the song that we sing when someone says Isiah will be forgiven someday.

Fool-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

Much has transpired since I last corresponded. I’ve been out west in some desert land. I’ve been north of Alaska. You know nothing of this if they ask ya.

Over 1,000 days have past since I last set foot in Knicks Nation. For nearly three years, I have neither watch a game, nor rooted, nor cheered, nor concerned myself with the well-being of my favorite basketball team. Unfortunately however, what I have seen is many of my dear friends and Knicks Nation family be emotionally tormented and destroyed by the evil manical reign of Isiah Thomas.

As I mentioned once before, along my travels I have encountered other teamless fans who consider themselves refugees from their nations. One such fan, a former native of Clipper Nation, has become somewhat a partner of mine. Together we have raided the camps of many new refugees from Heat Nation. I’ll admit, old grudges die hard. And you should see my new Jimmy Buffett CD collection.

Alas, there is word my days without a home may soon come to an end. I may no longer have to walk that lonely highway east of Omaha. According to reports, the Knicks have hired a new President. Unfortunately, the Honorable Mr. Walsh has not yet decided whether or not to remove the evil tyrant Thomas from his throne.

Please Mr. Walsh. For all that is holy on St. Walt, St. Willis, and the newly annointed St. Patrick, please fire Isiah Thomas so I can come home.

To quote the immortal patriot Sgt. Slaughter, I want my country back.

A lot of people are making a big deal about the Olympics being held in China. And with good reason. There is much to be said about the Chinese government and their position on internal freedoms and basic human rights. Not to mention their position on international issues such as the tragedy in Sudan.

That said, although I could care less about the running of the torch and the protestant actions therein, there is one aspect of the anti-China rhetoric that I vehemently disagree with. Quite a few folks in the last few days have come forth and proclaimed that President Bush should forgo the Olympic Opening Ceremonies in Beijing because of the actions of the Chinese government. This would be an enormous mistake.

Although I am far from a fan of President Bush and I do agree with several of his “opponents” on many issues, boycotting the opening ceremonies is a ridiculous idea. Besides the fact that it would likely have no effect on the future actions of the Chinese government, it is a slap in the face to all those American athletes who have trained for years, if not their whole lives, to represent their country in the 2008 Summer Olympics.

Contrary to what some people think, having the President go to Beijing does not validate Chinese actions in Tibet, Darfur, or anywhere else. What it does do is tell the hundreds, if not thousands of American athletes that their country is behind them. Because if the President, who is the utmost representive of the People, doesn’t support the athletes, then who will?

This post originally appeared on Yaysports!.

(Jordi back. What happened to Cobra? Looks like he abandoned you as well.)

Something about Springfield, Massachusetts brings back memories of long-forgotten springs and winters of brisk, white Christmases. I remember walking along Lake Haychtoo-Oh during my years of solitude, pondering man’s place in society and deliberating nature’s true meaning. It was very Zen. Very beautiful.

Then they built that Hall of Fame building in my utopia. In came the people, the crowds, their bouncey-balls, and their squeaky-sneakers. I have never been back.

On September 4th, 2008 this will change.

I will journey back to that once-prestine spot to watch my childhood idol join the ranks of the famous and the glorified. As a Knicks fan, I am proud to say I cheered him through the thick and the thin, through sick times and in health, ’till a dumb trade did we part.

Curse you, Scott Layden. A pox on your whole family.

Glen Rice? Bah.

Luc Longley? Bah.

Our warriors live in our memories in no uniform but our own.

A beleagued congratulations is also in order to The Dream. Another great warrior. One who outdueled us at our finest moment. A tip of the cap to you, sir.

Also to Dickie V., although you can’t been seen with Hooters girls, you can be seen in the highest company of those involved in the game. A giant among men. I drink to you, sir.

But to that other coach, that rat who jumped ship at our time of glory, I say boo!

Your championship run should have lived. Until you coached another. Coach VG saved her and brought her to another championship, after you treated her like garbage. And that’s what you are, the Coach of Refuse.

So honor him if you want, bow to him. Bow to the Coach of Slime, the Coach of Filth, the Coach of Putrescence. Boo. Boo. Rubbish. Filth. Slime. Muck. Boo. Boo. Boo.

That is all.

One of the more interesting posts I’ve read all week (besides my own) came from the always loquacious MC Bias (or is it McBias?). Ol’ MC Bias pondered on the merits of Blogger Burnout – that feeling you get by writing about the same thing over and over and over again. Especially on a solo independent blog, when responses and feedback are limited. My solution is as many others do, to vary it up. Talk about what else is on my mind. Today you are getting one of those posts.

– First, out of LA, comes the only semi-sports related topic of the day: according to The Washington Post via Fanhouse, Kobe Bryant has taken to expressing his discontent with the NBA refs by cursing in foreign tongues.

Way back in my military days, I did a tour in Bosnia-Herzegovina. While there, I learned a few Serbo-Croatian words and phrases. The only one I remember now is jebi ga. I guarantee Kobe has said this during a game.

According to Richard Schneider’s article on Serbian communication,

“a Serbian epithet does not always translate to blasphemy. Take Jebi ga for instance, probably the most frequently used phrase in the language. It is interchangeably used to express a scornful ‘fuck him ,’ or a horrified ‘you-don’t-say’ or a resigned ‘oh well…shit happens.’

The prevailing meaning is only discernible by the tone of voice …”

Jebi ga‘s “versatility” means referees would not only have to know what it meant, but have to determine Kobe’s intent in saying the word before taking appropriate action.

Nobody ever said Kobe was stupid.

– Speaking of brilliant, check out Jordanian Queen Rania Al Abdullah‘s YouTube VLog. Not only is Queen Rania totally beautiful, but she is trying to make a difference. And using YouTube to spread her message means she understands the way the world is going.

– On a light-hearted note, remember President Screwb’s Perri-air? Well, a marketing genius in Lebanon is trying to sell native air to Lebanese living abroad.

Apparently, this is one of the things Lebanese like. Yes, that page has links to what white people, Arabs, black people, Asians, etc. like.

– Finally, check out the most depressing, yet uplifting, beauty pageant in the world: Angola’s Miss Landmine pageant.

Last week, 31 year old Agusta Urica, was named Miss Landmine 2008. Unlike American pageants, Miss Landmine means a world of difference to the winning contestant. Whereas those who don’t win Miss USA still have a plethera of opportunity, the same can not be said for the runners-up in Miss Landmine. Many of the contestants, Urica included, come to the contest unemployed, lacking education, and because of the plague of landmines across Angola, are forced to live with physical handicaps such as truncated legs or arms, etc.

So best of luck to Agusta Urica. And hopefully sometime in the future, Miss Landmine will run out of contestants.

That’s about it for the day. Remember, I am live and well and blogging twice a week or so on YaySports!NBA. Go check that out as well.

And if you don’t, jebi ga.

This post originally appeared on YaySports!.

(Jordi has rocked for a long, long time. He has written posts of wildebeests and angels. He has soared on the wings of a demon.)

One of the disadvantages of living in the South is I often get outvoted at my local sports-watching establishments. Yesterday, for example, I strolled into my local sports bar and said “Barkeep, put on the Magic-Cavaliers, please.” And so it was done.

Until it was undone by a gaggle of people who love watching cars go in circles.

They outvoted me. So I failed to see much of the game. When I finally returned home, it was over. Done. Fini.

But after reading about it, I was left with one question: How does LeBron and Dwight Howard score a combined 21 points? 21 points. That does not make any sense. 21 points? Two super-duperstars? Combined? That’s like Wookies living on Endor. It does not make sense.

I am trying to figure this out. Two of the NBA’s most high-flying, high-scoring, convoluted, non-disputed air-apparents scored 21 points. Total. In one game. Against each other.

Chewbacca could score 21 points. By himself. Against the Ewoks. On Endor.

But why would a Wookie live on Endor?

On a related note, you may have read about some really bad attempts at music on other sites, but this may be the worst song I have ever heard. About Chewbacca. Chewbacca.

Tying it all together: Marc McNamara. See now if I was a writer of a movie, I would definitely make a role for one of the coolest people in the word.

Now this post makes sense.

In conclusion, readers of this supposed post, what if I told you that Shaq was once coached by a wookie from Kashyyyk? Would that make sense?

The defense rests.

I don’t normally listen to sports radio. Today however I tuned in and heard something that really tweaked my melon. The NCAA, the same people that brought sports the BCS standings, has pulled a Hooters ad from the NCAA Basketball Final Four Official Tournament Program. According to a Hooters of America press release, the NCAA objected to the image of a Hooters girl in the advertisement.

Granted, in the press release Hooters admits being warned that the NCAA might not allow them to advertise in 2008, and that 2007 might be their last year in the program. Not surprisingly, however, Hooters received no word prior to the submission of the ad that the ad would not be allowed nor did they receive a reason why.

So Hooters went ahead and submitted their ad. And it was pulled.

Unless the NCAA has become the new moral police, I see nothing wrong with the ad in question, which features Hooters model Sara Hoots and basketball personality Dick Vitale (seen here). Is NCAA pulling the “objectification of women” card on Hooters? If so, are they also banning suggestive dance team routines at college games? Or perhaps they are removing cheerleaders? Maybe even pole vaulting?

Once again, the NCAA continues to defy the laws of logic.

On a local note, the Women’s Final Four is being held this weekend in the St. Pete Times Forum. Less than a quarter mile away from the forum is an entertainment complex called Channelside featuring several clubs, bars, and, of course, a Hooters. According to the sports radio show I was listening to, many of the Channelside establishments are courting the incoming tourists, with four of the bars even proclaiming themselves as “headquarters” for each of the respective teams.

So what about the Channelside Hooters? Can they advertise the Final Four in an attempt to draw in tourist dollars? Are they prohibited from mentioning the NCAA? Hopefully they don’t have to use the ridiculous “See the Big Game Here” phrase.

Wouldn’t it be great if the team that wins the tournament chooses to have their victory celebration just a short jaunt down the road at Hooters?

If I was Hooters of America, I would let them eat for free.

I love this part of the baseball season. Not only is it the start of the spring and hope springing eternal, blah, blah, blah, but people can say the craziest things based on what has happened already. Baseball may be the only sport that people can make the wildest predictions based on the smallest samples. For example, did you know:

Pirates outfielder Xavier Nady is on pace to hit 108 home runs and drive home 378 runs?

or

Astros outfielder Michael Bourn is going to steal 162 bases, but only hit .182?

You heard it hear first.

On to some things you didn’t hear first here, but I am going to repeat because they bear repeating (all brought to you by the letter “O”).

Down goes Pedro. (MetsBlog)

I’m glad I saw Velvet Revolver while Scott Weiland was still with the band. They put on a great show. Oh, there he goes, he goes, he goes. (HardRock Hideout)

Back in the day, the Phillies had a guy named Rambo. (Baseball Reference)

Picked up a few CDs at the store today: new Sevendust, Gabriela y Rodrigo, the Fugees’ classic The Score, and new Black Crowes.

Method Man tells the youth to stay in school or he’ll beat their ass, yo. (Grandgood)

In Uruguay, they are planning the world’s largest BBQ. Over 12,000 kilograms of meat. That’s 26,455 pounds. Or 13 tons of meat. And isn’t that the place where you can’t get extradited from? And they cook tons of BBQ? Away I go to Montevideo! (Global Voices Online)

And finally, ’tis a sad day, Peter Tom “P.T.” Willis is out after 12 years as FSU radio color man. No more “I see ya (player name)” after a big play. That sucks. I liked P.T. Willis. Boo-hoo. (Andrew Carter’s Chopping Block)

Ok, enough random babble. Yo soy finito.

This post originally appeared on Yaysports!.

(Jordi here with a big announcement.)

For the last few months all the blogosphere has been held in suspense by one man. One man who has vowed to make the world more interesting. To involve the denizens of the Internet in ways never done before. A man of immense creativity, skill, and rambling logic.

People of YaySports, your wait is over. The messiah (little m, of course) has returned.

Please, be calm. Don’t start a riot like the Rashard Lewis fans at Medival Times.

(To be honest, that cracked me up. I’m not laughing that people got hurt or anything. But I’ve been to that Medival Times several times. The last time I was there I bought a morning star – a real spiked ball and chain. I would have wrecked a few people in a riot. Hopefully, Medival Times stopped selling real weapons.)

But anyway, about this return thing. Yeah, He is back. The rest of the blogosphere needs to bow down.

Be prepared, because everyone is going to make a big deal about this. I’m not. This is all you will read about it.

So there.

In other news, I watched the Mavs-Warriors game. Yeah, totally disappointed. I was like, score Golden State, score. Or at least grab a rebound.

I’m on the outside, I’m looking in. I can see through you. See your true colors. Because inside your ugly. Ugly like me. I can see through you. See to the real you.

Right now Golden State is not making the playoffs. That could change tomorrow. The whole Western Conference is all jumbled up. The first could be last, and the last could be first – or something like that. And some team who could finish ahead of all the teams in the East will be out of the playoffs.

Ok? What’s the big deal?

If I was that team – the team that doesn’t make the playoffs in the West but still is good enough to win a bunch of games, I study every player in the NCAA Tournament, Europe, Argentina, Iceland, or wherever fine basketball is played and get myself a killer draft pick. As the other teams in the West are beating themselves up in the playoffs, Team X (the greatest non-playoff team of all-time) is already preparing to improve themselves with a lottery pick.
And they will make the playoffs the next year and be even better.

Do I have to think of everything?

Oh by the way, in case you are confused – HE is Agent Zero. You weren’t expecting anyone else, were you?

‘Tis the day after April Fool’s Day. I’m not sure what that means, only today is the day you are not supposed to feel stupid over the things that people made you look stupid about yesterday. Like, did you know we never actually landed on the moon? Or that prominent FSU site Scalp’Em.com is now a ticket re-sale site? Or that National Geographic has Paris Hilton on the cover? Or what if I said Jeff Treadway was Jay Busbee’s Greatest Atlanta Brave of all time?

Ha ha ha. The jibberidy-jabberjaw jabbing at my funny bone. Now put your jokes away until next year.

On a more serious note, I face a dillemma. I could go the Women’s NCAA Final Four this weekend here in Tampa or …. I could do anything else.

Honestly, I’m not sure if I should go out and experience the Tampa nightlife anymore, I might get pee’d on.

True story: one spring break I met up with a bunch of friends (from the great Illinois band Alternate End) in Panama City Beach. Anyway, another guy we knew got drunk and pee’d on the leg of a girl who wouldn’t dance with him at the club. His rationale: he had to pee. I guess you can’t argue with that logic, in a sick, disturbing way.

Speaking of sick and disturbing: a couple of bad-ass links from MTV’s Headbanger’s Blog:

Click here if you like sick and twisted videos of Vikings and Gothic warriors chopping heads and female vampires cleaning up the mess.

Here is a Frenchman with an accordian and Metallica fetish. Very interesting.

Oh and finally, baseball stat god/ idol of number-crunching baseball fans everywhere, Bill James answers a ton of questions over at the Freakonomics blog. He is smart.

Marlins, schmarlins.

The end.