The Worm Mulls a Return
Last February, Dennis Rodman took his talents – piercings, hair dye and all – to North Korea. Apparently Rodman misses the Supreme One in all his chunky glory and has returned to the Glorious Kingdom. How tight are Rodman and Kim Jong Un? Days before his visit, the North Koreans had rejected a U.S. envoy tasked with bringing home a jailed American missionary. Contrast that to the welcome Rodman received, disembarking the plane as the marshall giddily waits to embrace Rodman on the tarmac.
Basketball diplomacy 1, human rights 0.
Sing Me a Song, Bard
Kudos and all to the Red Sox for their comeback season. Kudos to the brain trust for recognizing last season for what it was – bad luck – and not pulling drastic action. Good.
Letting Daniel Bard go? Bad, so bad. This guy throws 90 mph cheese, and that’s just his change-up. Sure, it’s been turbulent the past couple years, but the delivery is so smooth, and he’s healthy.
Who claimed him off waivers? Why, Theo and Southside gang. Oh my. Good thing Big Papi is swatting like its 2003. So good, so good.
Money Makes the World Go Round
Floyd “Money” Mayweather, Jr. has a guaranteed purse of $41.5 million for his next fight. Against some guy named Saul “Canelo” Alvarez (sorry, the boxing guy on staff is off tonight). So who you got, Money or Canelo? Whatever, the real question is, how can a guy (or gal) get in on that stanky rich Mayweather business?
Try to join that dank entourage. Be prepared to rock XXL tees, low-hung shorts and sunglasses at night. You must be prepared to shove aside adoring fans and annoying onlookers. Most importantly, don’t misplace the betting slip.
Or if you grew up on the gritty streets of Jamaica Queens, spit some fire and eventually get around to going into the boxing promotion business. Collaborate with “Money.” This won’t be as lucrative as the Vitamin Water caper, but it’ll work out. Right, Mr. Jackson?
There’s no shame in being the patsy either. Okay, it’s a boxing ‘match.’ But “Money” and his team ain’t picking someone who will actually threaten that perfect record. Just take the fat check. It ain’t as fat as Money’s, but it’s pretty nice. Remember, keep those hands up, though.
Where Sports Be At?
The following is based on a true story:
So, you’re living it up in Austria. Socks pulled high, basketball shorts hanging loose, sweatshirt billowing in the Viennese breeze. The perfect outfit for painting the town red. Hell, the perfect outfit for doing anything, amirite?
Suddenly, as the faded brown Sperrys pound the cobblestone (or whatever those Austrians line their streets with), a craving for kebab hits. Images of the electric knife shaving off chunks of meat, dropping like flakes into the awaiting wrap swim before the eyes. No wait, scratch that. McDonald’s is needed at this hour! The hooded fella scampers away to satiate his desires. “Epic,” mutters Nate.
The following is pure speculation. Meanwhile, in a special capital district across the pond … the fire crackles merrily in the cavernous book room.
Yes, everything is made out of mahogany, from the bookshelf panels to the huge bust of Hillary Clinton in the direct center of the room.
Her likeliness just has a certain effect on the beholder, you know? Leafing through Margaret Atwood’s latest tome, it’s just not doin’ it tonight.
Being a champion is hard work, sometimes girls just wanna have fun. With that, Atwood is shoved aside for J.K. Rowling. French edition, Crabtree translation. Bliss.
A Fate Worse Than Death…
Would you rather be married to Khloe Kardashian or be the Jets quarterbacks coach?