The Steelers wouldn’t actually blow this thing, would they? The team with the handsome coach and the gay mascot have looked awful the last few weeks, and now the Browns are threatening to pass them. But they wouldn’t fall so far to lose to the Rams, right? Right?
The Steelers’ quest to get back on track hits St. Louis tonight, and they should probably beware: The Rams haven’t looked as awful lately. (Just in time to ruin their draft pick.)
This is another NFL Network game, so people are scrambling to figure out ways to watch it. (No NFL Network in Pittsburgh, though it will be on local stations.) Supposedly that NFL Live thing is online, but we remind you that it does not, in fact, show you the whole game, instead giving you “look-ins.” Because that’s what you want from a football game; those helpless moments of having no idea what’s happening sporadically interrupted by two minutes of actions as you scramble to catch up.
Anyway, yeah, pre-Christmas football. Big Ben goes well with the nog.
No offense to Papelbon, who’s awfully likable. (For a Sox player, anyway. Sorry!) It’s just that he’s enough of a goof that he could be playing around with everybody.
Before the new revelations, catcher Jason Vartiek was last sighted with the ball. He said he gave it to Papelbon, who said he couldn’t find it. Unfortunately, his dog, Boss, did:
“He jumped up one day on the counter and snatched it. He likes rawhide. He tore that thing to pieces.”
If it’s true, we can think of no better contrast — and look at why this title, in a way, might mean more to Red Sox Nation than 2004 did — than the fact that the first ball involved a struggle over history and money and ownership, and this one was eaten by Jonathan Papelbon’s dog. You’ve earned it, Boston fans.
Big Daddy Drew’s Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo previews the upcoming weekend of the NFL every, well, every Thursday afternoon.
Ho Ho Ho! Welcome to this very special Christmas edition of the Jamboroo. Now, I’ve made my wishlist, and I think it’s in pretty good shape:
• Rope
• Duct Tape
• Gasoline can filled with 89 octane
• Chair
• Car trunk containing Jillian Barberie
• Bic lighter
• Muddy Mudskipper cereal bowl caddy
I gave this list to my mom. At first she was puzzled, but I think I eventually swayed her. Anyway, time to break down the holiday, THROWGASM-STYLE!
All games and other items in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability and or awesomeness on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.
Five Throwgasms
The Nutcracker: I’m gay for the Nutcracker. You can’t listen to the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy without thinking of Brady Quinn.
Christmas Day Breakfast: Smoked salmon? Fuck and yes. I could eat 900 lbs of smoked salmon. My blood may already be 50% mercury. You could tattoo temperature gradations on my body and probably get an accurate reading.
Egg Nog: No mention of egg nog would be complete without a little Dave Attell. “I wanna get a little drunk, but I also want pancakes.”
Stockings: I like the fact that you don’t have to wrap stuff to put in a stocking. The stocking does that job for you. Reaching into a stocking is also like playing the “3 Strikes” game on “The Price Is Right.” You never know what you’re gonna pull out of there. Could be a watch. Could be a travel bottle of Cuervo. Could be a snake. You just don’t know!
Not Showering Until Dinner
Redskins at Vikings: Hey Michelle Tafoya, leave Purple Jesus the fuck alone. Yeah, I saw your Sunday Conversation with him, where you asked him questions like:
“When you were 7, you were playing on the street with your brother. What happened next?”
Gee, why do I think you knew the answer to that question already? Let me rephrase the question for you the way you really wanted to ask it:
“Hey, you saw your brother die right in front of you. Can you relive every horrible detail on camera so I can win a sports Emmy?”
Or this one you asked him right after that:
“Seeing your brother die in front of you, how did that make you feel?”
Oh, I’m sure it made him feel terrific. You whore.
Eagles at Saints: 5 out of 5 conservative white people agree: Brian Westbrook is a hero!
Giants at Bills: Starring Tom Coughlin as the Heat Miser. Did you know the Snow Miser has the exact same hairstyle as Dick Versace?
Texans at Colts
Four Throwgasms
Browns at Bengals: An orgy of fantasy points awaits!
Dolphins at Patriots: This could have been the most unique game in NFL history. What would have been the odds that the best team in NFL history and the worst team in NFL history would exist within the same season? Or that they would reside in the same division? Instead, the Dolphins are now just another forgettably awful team. It’s a shame. I live for novelty matchups.
Three Throwgasms
Shopping: I don’t mind the first hour of Christmas shopping. It can be fun poking around and looking for shit, especially if they’re handing out free food in the Williams Sonoma. And if there’s a Chick Fil-A in the mall, then it’s automatically a good day. It’s after that first hour, when you’re ready to leave but have tons of shit left to buy, where it becomes hell on earth. Memo to all mall personnel: You don’t have to have the fucking thermostat up that high. I’m dying in here, and I’m sick of carrying my jacket.
Also, a big fuck you to any store that gives me merchandise in a bag that has paper handles. After two hours, that shit starts to dig in like piano wire.
Turkey: I’ve had my fill of Turkey at Thanksgiving. Do we really need a reprise? Time for ham, or duck, or something else new. Have you tried goose? It’s like duck, only bigger. And greasier. I like any food that comes in confit form.
Christmas Cards: I’m at the age now where people send each other Christmas cards, featuring pictures of their kids. It’s a subtle way for people to tell you LOOK AT HOW GORGEOUS MY FAMILY IS! WE LIVE WELL! I enjoy coldly analyzing all of their children’s physical flaws. “Jeez, that kid got fat!”
NOTE: If you include one of those “family year in review” letters in your Christmas card, you’re a douche. I don’t care about that whitewater rafting trip you made in August. Fuck your raft.
Broncos at Chargers Packers at Bears
Two Throwgasms
Steelers at Rams: They’re gonna blow it!
Cowboys at Panthers: You stay the fuck away from this game, Jessica Simpson. My league title is on the line. Go give your daddy another backrub.
One Throwgasm
Wrapping: I fucking hate wrapping. Especially if there isn’t a table available to wrap on. Wrapping gifts on the floor is like playing Twister for three hours straight. I fuck up wrapping gifts in every conceivable way. I misjudge the width of the box and can’t get the paper to meet in the middle. Or, I use too much paper and can’t make proper creases on the ends. And ribbon? Holy fuck. Calibrating the right length of ribbon requires an engineering degree. I can’t make a curlicue to save my life. When I’m done wrapping a gift, it looks like the gift got into a fight with a cat.
I hate wrapping. I also hate:
The Gift Wrap Counter: Jesus. Will you hurry the fuck up, lady? How fucking hard is it to wrap a book? It’s not like I asked you to wrap a hedge trimmer.
Getting the Tree In The Motherfucking Stand
Rain: Rain on Christmas is like getting the flu before your bachelor party.
Mistletoe: I bet Erin Andrews wishes nothing but hateful shit on the creepy asshole who sired this tradition.
Falcons at Cardinals: After blowing up at his o-coordinator last week, Kurt Warner went home and told his wife that Anne Landers was a boring old bitty. He was more animal than man!
Raiders at Jaguars Chiefs at Lions Bucs at Niners Ravens at Seahawks Jets at Titans
Pregame Song That Makes Me Want To Run Through A Goddamn Brick Wall
“Angry Chair”, by Alice in Chains. Nothing says Christmas quite like the soft sounds of “Angry Chair” playing in the living room. Bonus points if you’re family has left you and you’re suffering from heroin addiction! Poor Layne Staley. You know, if he had blown off his head, he totally would have been more revered.
I have an angry chair in my own home. It has a picture of Sarah Jessica Parker on it. Bitch.
Embarassing Cassingle I Once Owned That Will Not Fire You Up
Fantasy Player That Deserves To Die A Slow, Painful Death
Tom Brady. Yes you, Dreamboat! How dare you come along, sweep fantasy owners off their feet with impressive performance after impressive performance, charming them and their friends, and then abandon them right at the exact moment they needed you most? YOU HEARTBREAKER! Fantasy owners don’t deserve that kind of shabby treatment, okay? Next year, they’re gonna find themselves a more stable QB. And they’re not going to ever give you visitation rights to their newborn leagues! Not even during Christmas! Suck on that, you insensitive prick. You’re no keeper!
Five Potential Key Injuries
• Tarvaris Jackson (calf)
• Todd Collins (calcification)
• Garrett Wolfe (elfism)
• Troy Williamson (Grandma run over by reindeer)
• Matt Leinart (ornament hook through penis)
This Week’s Suicide Pick
Last week’s suicide pool pick of Baltimore was incorrect. Thanks for nothing, Matty Stover. Off the board now are Baltimore, Jacksonville, Tennnessee, Pittsburgh, Indianapolis, New Orleans, San Diego, Cleveland, Washington, Chicago, Seattle, Denver, Dallas, Green Bay and New England (Record for the year: 10-5). We once again pick a both a suicide pool team and an actual way of committing suicide. This week’s pick: Minnesota (What the hell, I’ve got nothing to lose), and jumping off a bridge.
I don’t get the bridge scene in “It’s A Wonderful Life.” George Bailey is about to kill himself by jumping off the bridge. Then Clarence pretends to be drowning in the water, so George then jumps off the bridge and into the water to save him. Well, shouldn’t he have died while doing THAT? Why should intent matter in determining if you survive a bridge jump? Or was George just gonna jump off the bridge so he could then freeze to death in the water? Christ, that sounds horrible. His life must have sucked BALLS.
I love the horrible alternate dimension at the end of the movie, especially the line about what happens to George’s wife. After George shakes the shit outta Clarence, he fesses up, “ALL RIGHT! She’s an old maid! She never married!” GAH! Oh no! The horrors! She had to live her life as an independent woman! With no man to provide for her! She never got to be barefoot and pregnant while fetching her man more fireside whisky! THE PAIN!!! I’m also a big fan of the mean universe Martini The Bartender:
“Look here! We sell hard drinks for men who wanna get drunk fast.”
Goddamn right. Preach on, my man. Too bad the movie got all nicey nice at the end. Oh well. Best to stick to the lost ending.
Favorite skit EVAR.
Gametime Snack Of The Week
Holiday M&M’s. Putting holiday M&M’s in a candy dish is like throwing free crack down an alley. I am powerless to resist the delicious candy crunch. They even make mint flavored ones, and HOLY FUCK are they good. They’ve come out with all kinds of new M&M flavors lately: mint, dark, almond, sand, etc. I’m down with all of them. You could put Daulerio’s stool inside a candy shell and I’d eat it. And I have!
Every year when I was a kid, my mom would pick up one of those gingerbread house-making kits for my sister and my brother and me to make. She’d also pick up about eight bags of holiday M&M’s to decorate. They make excellent garlands at the edge of the roof, or a fabulous doorknob. That gingerbread house would sit on our kitchen table for weeks. And I’d pick off every single M&M on it, until the house was covered in divots marked by faint traces of red and green dye. Not a good-looking gingerbread house. By New Year’s, the thing looked the kind of house you’d see on “The Wire.”
While we’re talking M&M’s, I’m extremely disturbed by the current M&M’s campaign. I never asked for an M&M that resembles Brad Garrett, and seeing that image does not make me any hungrier.
Gametime Cheap Beer Of The Week
Natty Bo. Ever take a train ride past Baltimore and wonder how that city ended up like that? It’s the Natty Bo!
Every year at my old ad agency, there was a gift swap. One year I had nothing to give, so I ran down to a convenience store and grabbed two 40’s. One was Olde English. The other was Colt .45. They came in a black plastic bag. I tied the bag in a knot on top, stuck a gift bow on it, and stuck it on the table. When one of the guys at work opened it, he looked immediately at me. I guess this was not surprising behavior on my part. I ended up with a $20 Old Navy gift card. Hooray, carpenter pants!
Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Ravens Fans
A Christmas Story. I have only one beef with A Christmas Story. and it is this: There’s that scene at the end of the movie where Ralphie has gone through all his presents, only to realize that he didn’t get the Red Rider BB Gun. But later that night, his dad points out the special “forgotten” gift hidden over in the corner of the room, which of course turns out to be the gun.
I first saw this movie when I was 8 years old. Every year after I saw it, I would spend Christmas Day hoping the EXACT SAME THING would happen to me. That, if I didn’t get what I wanted, that my Dad would surprise me with a hidden “bonus gift” after stringing me along for a couple hours. That never fucking happened. Instead, this would happen.
Me: So, is that all? Dad: Is what all? Me: Are these all the gifts? Didn’t forget anything? Dad: Uh… no. Me: Are you SURE? Dad: What are you, a fucking retard?
I never did get that that miniature sports car I saw on Double Dare, or the skateboard/bike hybrid I saw on “Remote Control” or Kelly Bundy spread-eagled on my bed. God damn that movie for getting my hopes up.
Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
“There’s only one fat guy who brings us presents, and his name ain’t Santa.”
Halftime Masturbation Kit
• For the guys: A festive Lucy Pinder and Jordan. How can Santa compete when he only has one fun bag?
• For the gals: Some dude’s package in man’s holiday lingerie! I’m guessing this product is a big hit on Christopher Street. Men’s lingerie is a very weird and disturbing segment of the fashion industry. I go to Marshall’s to buy underwear once in a while, and 90 percent of everything else on the rack consists of hip briefs and thongs. If you’re heterosexual and you wear stuff like this, you owe people an explanation.
Blatantly False, ProFootballTalk-Style, Fred Edelstein-esque Rumor Of The Week
WE HEAR… that Donovan McNabb accused Pam Oliver of being a “big, fat liar.” And if J. Whyatt Mondeshire needed further proof that Donovan McNabb is an Uncle Tom, the fact that McNabb called Oliver fat and not “Onionazztastic” should help his cause.
Your Motivational Pregame Quote for The Weekend
“Hey jackweed, I get more action in a week than you’ve had in your entire life. I’ve got houses in L.A., Paris and Vail. In each one, a 70-inch plasma screen. So I suggest you wipe that stupid smile off your face before I come over there and SMACK it off! You feeling strong, my friend? Call me elf one more time.” -Miles Finch
Enjoy the games, everyone. My very best to you and your family over Christmas. If you travel, I hope your trip is as safe and painless as humanly possible.
PROGRAMMING NOTE: There will be an abbreviated Jamboroo next week due to the fact that I have the week off and will be mainlining Cabernet directly into my system. I’m quite sure you’ll live.
Actually, we’re not sure something so unfocused can be classified as a “rant.” Our favorite thing about Schilling’s blog is that he often seems to forget the point of a sentence by the time he gets to the end of it. As for the names on the list, and Lord knows there’s no shortage of those, I have feelings very strongly in some cases due to personal history, and opinions in many others. I’ve played, roomed and lived with some of these guys, and competed and gotten to know others. Wait … what does that mean?
This stylistic “quirk” doesn’t work well when discussing an issue as complicated as the Mitchell Report, which somehow just makes it more perfect. The “news” out of Schilling’s post is that he called for Roger Clemens to give back his Cy Young awards. When you read the whole post, we guess he said that, but this was just a few words after saying, “my thought is that Roger will find a way in short order to organize a legal team to guarantee a retraction of the allegations made.” Trying to strip a usable quote out of a Schilling blog post is a fool’s errand.
That didn’t make the post any less enjoyable than all of Schilling’s posts. If your eyes are still in your head when you reach the end.
So the Knicks fans had that “Fire Isiah” rally yesterday afternoon — inconveniently right before the Knicks’ most impressive win of the season — and the outrage in New York was palpable. And by “palpable,” we mean, “about two dozen people showed up despite it taking place in one of the most highly foot-trafficked places on the planet.” So, it went well.
If Isiah Thomas acknowledges the protest at all — and he’s just dumb enough to do so — he’ll probably point out something idiotic, like his famous “we’re missing layups because you’re booing” comments. (Here’s a whole great list of Isiah quotes over the last few years.) But we think the small number of people showing up for a protest is indicative of a fact far more damning than righteous fury; it’s impossible not to be apathetic about the Knicks right now. Sure, Isiah inspires much ridicule, and pretty much everything he says digs himself a deeper hole (in the most entertaining way) … but when you’re at the game, you really can’t hear him. The games themselves — save for last night — are empty, sullen slogs meandered through by tall men who don’t care. For all the incompetence and sexual harassing going on at the Garden, the games themselves are brutal. That’s why people don’t care … and that’s probably why there’s only two dozen people protesting the Knicks, and why Isiah Thomas still has a job.
The NBA Closer is written by our own Canadian weekend maestro J.E. Skeets. When he’s not busy scouring the box scores or fighting five year olds, he can be heard on The Basketball Jones daily podcast. Enjoy.
• B-B-B-B-Broken. Chauncey Billups might not have the “Whoa Boy” numbers of a few other guards in the league, but he wins basketball games. Plain and simple. Like yogurt. Plain yogurt. The no-name brand. Mr. Big Shot hit two free throws with a tenth of a second left to help the Pistons hand the Celtics their first home loss of the season, 87-85. Kevin Garnett led the Celtics with 26 points, and Ray Allen had 24, including a sick tying 3-pointer that excited Big Papi with 19 seconds to go.
• Christmas In December. This one is a little deceiving. While the final score reads close — a 108-105 Dallas win, decided when Nash airballed a three in the closing seconds — the Mavericks actually hogged the remote all night. They never trailed, led by 17 at the end of the first and were up by 14 midway through the fourth. Dirk scored 31 points, including the Mavs’ final eight, while Nash finished with 21 and 18 assists. Dallas is now 18-9, just a hair’s breadth — huh? — behind Phoenix (18-8) and San Ant (18-7).
• Nine-Alarm Blaze. Firefighters were called out to the Rose Garden early this morning to tackle a raging Portland blaze and to rescue a number of Toronto Raptors trapped by the flames. Crews arrived at the arena around 12:45am where Brandon Boy had already erupted for 25 points, nine rebounds and eight assists in leading the Trail Blazers to their ninth straight win, 101-96. Darrick Martin perished in the fire.
• Loud Noyzs! Rudy Gay hit a three in Tim Duncan’s kitchen at the buzzer to give the Griz an 88-85 victory over the Spurs. Memphis purposely blew a 23-point lead. … David Lee finally got some burn, scoring 17 of his 22 points in the first 24 as the Knicks beat the LeBrons 108-90. Isiah got a second multiyear contract extension for the win. … And in Atlanta, Anthony Johnson had a season-high 21 points as the Hawks soared over the Heat 117-111 in OT. Alonzo Mourning left with a patellar tendon tear in his right knee after falling awkwardly in the first. He’ll be out at least six months, unless he decides to run on his hands.
The Steelers wouldn’t actually blow this thing, would they? The team with the handsome coach and the gay mascot have looked awful the last few weeks, and now the Browns are threatening to pass them. But they wouldn’t fall so far to lose to the Rams, right? Right?
We haven’t quite wrapped our minds around this alleged news that Jonathan Papelbon’s dog 
So the Knicks fans had that “Fire Isiah” rally yesterday afternoon — inconveniently right before the Knicks’ most impressive win of the season — and the outrage in New York was palpable. And by “palpable,” we mean, “about two dozen people showed up despite it taking place in one of the most highly foot-trafficked places on the planet.” So, 
The NBA Closer is written by our own Canadian weekend maestro J.E. Skeets. When he’s not busy scouring the box scores or 
