Alternate States

The following reports are written in response to this, and to a very similar email I received this morning.

—Sean Kates, Pimlico, May19th—

They call him Big Brown, a worthy moniker not just for his color or for his size, but for the effect he’s had on the race so far this season. He’s packed them in in record numbers, trying to make the masses forget the disasters of the past couple of years, where hard choices were made by soft people. He promises a different kind of ending to this seemingly mindless national tragedy, an ending unexpected even a few months ago.

A non-factor only one year ago, Big Brown showed that he had scarcely begun fighting, and quickly reeled off win after win, in evermore spectacular fashion. In the most crucial race of all, he beat a filly who was the talk of the world before he stole her thunder. And while he was technically the favorite, it was nice to treat him as an underdog, because no one wants to root for the odds-on bet. And true, the filly needed to be destroyed by the end of the run, but that is the harsh reality of this horse race.

What matters most is the people under Big Brown’s thrall. They came on Saturday to watch another dominating performance, as Brownie (a name only those closest to him can use) rocketed away from his closest competition as they neared the final straightaway. 112,000 people paid their way to catch a glimpse of the stud, and prayed that he wouldn’t be hamstrung by his makeup or the close circle of friends, confidantes, and advisors seemingly always on hand. Yes, most of the 112K were simply college kids or young white elites using the race as an excuse to get intoxicated and throw beer cans at each other, the meaning of the number is significant. We can bring horse racing back, and send it higher than ever. Yes, We CAN!!

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There was a definite buzz around the country today as the fiery young politician with the silver tongue lashed out at the humiliations brought upon this once great nation. Tens of thousands gathered around him, and enjoyed an afternoon of intense speech and heightened emotion. Videographers on hand remarked that the sheer spectacle of it all was movie-like, a tour de force unlikely to be replicated for at least 73-75 years. As the man for whom the masses silenced themselves inveighed against the fractious political climate, and emphasized the need for togetherness, the feeling that he may be “THE LEADER” to take us back to the heights of nationhood grew stronger, both within this reporter and the crowd as a whole. The economic struggles, the rule of many unwilling by the few uninspiring, the sheer ennui with life….all of these promise to be overcome by the sheer will and personality of this new man, so long as we freely give our allegiance over to him. Ja, Ja, Ja, Wir Koennen.

–Nuremberg, Germany, 1934—-  

Hardwood…The Boring Kind

So I lived through six (6, for those who can only read numbers, which seems idiotic given that you can read the rest of these words, presumably) live-action college basketball games. I would write about them, but then this post would be doubly boring, and in two temporal spaces. So I will only use the past to sparingly flavor the future, the way I only use my man juices to sparingly flavor your mother’s mouth. Yessss (strokes chin approvingly and/or sexually).

So, because there aren’t enough people covering it, here’s a preview of the Sweet 16, done in order of individual teams I can think up jokes for:

Western Kentucky – One great player with a girl’s name (Courtney Lee), a good player with a black name (Tyrone Brazelton) and some other guys. In other words…a team. They beat a mid-major with a Korver on it, then another mid-major with no Kutcher look-alike. Congrats. Now they get UCLA. Wrap up the baby and throw it in the dumpster, this Southerner’s prom is OVER.

UCLA – Their ”best” player is a white guy who can draw fouls inside. They are my co-favorites to make the final/win the tournament. These facts are not unrelated.

North Carolina – Their “best” player is a white guy who can draw fouls inside. They are my co-favorites to make the final/win the tournament. These facts are not unrelated.

Xavier – Their PG is 5′7”, at best, and has two “variations” on his shot: a deep three when no one guards him, and a running floater (I call it a “teardrop” because it makes me cry to watch…and not in the “autistic kid making eye contact with House in the episode of House where the autistic kid makes eye contact with House” way). They have one other good player (Duncan) and spare pieces. I picked them to the Elite Eight, a pick I still agree with, and one which suggests something about this tournament and college basketball in general. Hint: It’s a thing….

West Virginia – Their “best” player is a white guy who shoots nothing but terrible fadeaways from 13 feet out. They are going to be beat by the team described above. These facts, too, are not unrelated.

Michigan State – They beat two teams from Pennsylvania, a feat almost certainly equalled by plenty of teams in the past. However, judging from the coverage of their upcoming match with Memphis (the number one team in the country entering the tourney, but now only slight favorites to win), it is also apparently a feat that Maurice AUGERS well for their future. (See what I did there…I took a guy from Michigan State’s past (Maurice AGER) and used his name as a pun for “predicts things for”…fucking brilliance). Anyway, they suck, and are boring. Luckily for them, Tom Izzo is an excellent coach and can probably point to a Memphis player and say “foul him.” Probably. I’m still taking Memphis.

Memphis – Hi kids! Do you like Memphis? (Yeah yeah!)
Wanna see Billy Packer stick a sharp knife through each one of his eyelids? (Uh-huh!)
Wanna copy Derrick Rose and do exactly like he did?
Try punching fans and get messed up worse than Joey Dorsey is?
His brain’s dead weight, he’s tryin to get his head straight
but he can’t figure out which stripper he wants to impregnate.
And John Calipari said “CDR, you wasted”
Uh-huh, so get him the ball, you fucking basehead.

Texas – Players on Texas >>> all other teams in country not named Kansas or “UCLA”
Rick Barnes <<<<< All other Coaches still in the tournament
Splitting the difference makes them a Final Four loser to Kevin “I don’t” Love “to look clean”

Louisville – Their “best” player is a white guy who can draw fouls inside AND passes well. They are my sleeper pick to make the final/win the tournament. These facts are not unrelated.

Stanford – Their “best” player is a white guy who can draw fouls inside. And his just-as-gaily-named brother is also on the team. Brook and Robin go home in a blaze of Texas 3’s and androgeny.

Davidson – His name is apparently pronounced “STEF an.” That’s really all I got. Focusing on names and colour of skin here, folks. This shit doesn’t always write itself.

Wisconsin – Probably the best team with absolutely no freaking shot of winning the title. So, uh, they got that going for them. If they were named the “Beavers” instead of the “Badgers,” that would be two things they had going for them. As it is, though, they really only have the one.

Villanova – I work with a kid who went to ‘Nova, and I live 25 minutes away from Philly. Just thought you should know.

Kansas – The team that likely has the best athletes, the best sense of playing as a team, and the most actually GOOD defenders who PLAY defense. They also have Bill “Rick Barnes” Self. I will lose money on them, and I will hold it against them for, say….at least 5 years.

Washington State and Tennessee – D    o    n    ‘   t      c     a   r    e…but for Phil’s sake: PENIS PENIS PENIS

Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?

by Sean Kates, Wilmington, DE — Sad news today in the sports world, as the last bastion of moxie, fun and painkillers finally hung up his cleats. Flashing that sexy, boyish grin one last time, ultimate master of teammery Brett Favre told his agent, Buss Cook, to tell his team’s coach of his plans.  Fan darling and Green Bay idol Favre has no plans to hold a press conference to explain his departure from a team that nearly went to a Super Bowl just 2 months ago, though speculation runs rampant that he is currently busy having his knob slobbed by Peter King for the 17th consecutive offseason. If these reports hold true, this will mark the end of an era, a distressing thought for columnists who could previously practice closeted racism by holding up Favre (a gunslinging painkiller addict with a taste for the unsavory interception) as the paragon of all that is good in the league, but now may be forced to rely on reports about Daunte Culpepper’s sexcapades.

Favre began his career as a hick from a busted Southern school, under the wing of the single most wronged coach of all time. He has come a long way, and is now a dashing hick from a busted Southern school, career leader in touchdowns, interceptions, and any other stat that rewards throwing a ball for an unequalled length of time and in unequalled numbers. What a long, awesomely white, trip it’s been. Critics have pointed to Favre’s proneness to making big mistakes in pressure situations, especially over the past few years, but have been roundly answered with cries of “Great White Hope,” “Addiction Overcomer” and “What type of word is ‘proneness,’ anyhow?.”

The National Football League will miss Brett Favre, not just because he went to the Pro Bowl nine times, or because he’s the National Football League’s all-time leader in giving me erections, but because deep-down, he knew what it took to be a winner: guts. He gutted out year after year, taking the field for an insane 253 consecutive regular season games (275 including the playoffs). Sure, he was probably hurt a couple of those times, and he may have even cost his teams some very important wins. But that’s not what matters. What matters most of all is heart…and fun…and uh…guts. Yeah…he rocked. So all haters can, in lieu of flowers, send busts of their lips to Brett Favre’s house, because now that he is retired, he has plenty of time to apply them to his ass.