Stock Report following the weekend that was…

STOCK UP: Paul Pierce 40 point games.

Especially when they get some help from the bench, include clutch free throws, and translate to playoff series wins. Pierce once told us he can’t even get his blood pumping unless it’s Game 7…or a bar fight.

STOCK DOWN: Lebron James 40 point games.

45 points is kind of like 5 points when the rest of your team is napping on the charter bus, you don’t hit a basket that matters in the clutch, and you follow up every made shot with a whiny complaint to the refs. That shit is getting a little tired.

UP: Triple Crown Runs.

Big Brown sodomized the rest of the field Saturday at the Preakness, which means two important things: 1) The Belmont Stakes is now relevant and 2) Even more camera time for Kent Desormeaux’s milfy wife. Man, jockeys get all the primo ass.

DOWN: Comatose Puking at the Preakness.

While getting taunted by some drunk chick. This move is just tough to pull off.

[FanHouse]

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What we learned from the weekend that was…

Chicks Still Can’t Drive

And men still can’t have babies. Facts of life. Deal with it.

Winning a Major That’s Not Actually a Major Means You Still Haven’t Won a Major

Congrats go to Sergio Garcia for winning the so-called “fifth major” at TPC and taking the term “almost” to a startling new record setting level (previously held by us in the category of “losing virginity”).

We’ve always liked Sergio. We liked those old Michelob Light commercials (”No, hit the clubs“). And we like his self-effacing style (the first thing he did in his press conference yesterday was thank Tiger for not being there). We’ll be rooting for the Spanish midget to officially close the deal some time soon. [USA Today]

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We hand out superlatives for the weekend that was…

Biggest Career Rebound

Robert Downey Jr. “Iron Man” took a Spiderman-esque piss all over the the box office to the tune of $100+ million this weekend. The performance marks one of biggest all time comebacks by a former junkie in the acting business. Congrats to RDJ. Well played, sir. Well played.

Hot Female Sports Fan to Become Victim of Voyeurism

This Chick from the Hawks Game. Her and her Do Me eyes could only get so much TNT airtime before the inevitable happened: web stalking. Her MySpace page didn’t stand a chance.

Most Tears Cried for an Animal

Eight Belles. Well, we didn’t really cry of course. Crying is for chicks and dudes who “make love”. But we do have to say, when that filly was put down immediately after the Derby we experienced a sadness for an animal that we haven’t felt since Hooch got shot in “Turner and Hooch”.

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Just enough knowledge to keep you looking like a sports fan even when you don’t give a shit about the NBA...

• Tim Duncan is a three point threat. Fucking ridiculous. The only reason the guy breathes is the playoffs. And Renaissance fairs, of course.

• The Suns close like you after twenty beers on a Saturday night.

• Playing the role of Kobe Bryant in the first round, ladies and gentleman, Pau Gasol!

• To the shock of just about everyone, the Hawks put up a valiant effort against the Celtics. Just kidding. They got their asses pounded in.

• The Nuggets are making a strong case for the long debated “More Tats-Less Defense” NBA theory. Purists feel vindicated.

• The Sixers are 1-0 in the playoffs. Don’t worry, we don’t have a GD clue who plays for them either.

• Soulja Boy sided with DeShawn Stevenson and the Wizards after Lebron disrespected him. Lebron didn’t give a shit, still won.

• Hornets beat Mavs. Hetero man crushes on Chris Paul rising at a ludicrous clip.

And now on to handing out superlatives for the weekend that was…

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Trevor Immelman. So hot right now. Arguably the finest South African export since Charlize Theron.

What is it about Brandt Snedeker that’s screaming for an ass kicking? Is it the all-encompassing country club demeanor? Or maybe it’s just his huge fucking Adidas collar? That thing looks like a baby cape.

Mickelson should probably consider working some bench press into his new “super intense” fitness regiment.

We wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if Jim Nantz orgasmed at any point during broadcast.

Stewart Cink and Steve Flesch look like they should have spent the weekend finalizing our taxes.

Wonder if anyone’s ever gotten laid in Butler Cabin.

Why does it seem like it wouldn’t take much effort on Adam Scott’s part to bang your girlfriend?

We take serious issue with Tiger switching out his Sunday red for his Sunday pink and assuming no one will notice. Metro moves like that never get by us.

All Robert Karlsson has to do to become our favorite golfer is change his first name to Karl.

Is it weird we kind of wish Martha Burke was still around? That silly B was comedy gold.

Did Steve Williams have anything on under his caddy jumpsuit? We put odds at 50/50 that he was straight commando under there. New Zealanders are a different breed.

We’re pretty sure Nick Faldo molded his tie collection after our color blind uncle who lives in Reno.

Snedeker’s collar grew another two inches after his eagle on 2 on Sunday.
Little known fact: Paul Casey made some side cash playing one of the elf extras in the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy.

What made Tiger happier? The birth of his child OR his eagle on eleven? Tough Call.

Who would you rather have a beer with? Verne Lundquist or David Feherty? Who would buy you a lap dance first? Another tough call.

Things get kind of boring when a white dude from Africa runs away with the tournament. At least Immelman realized the tedium he had caused and spent his entire celebration sending out invites to the gun show.

And now on to handing out superlatives for the weekend that was…

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There’s going to be a lot of basketball talk today, and — as always — our take on a mainstream topic is, well, a little off center.

On Saturday night, UNC — the favorite to win it all — lost to Kansas. And while the consensus take is that this was a game Kansas chose to win, a game where they officially got the Roy Williams monkey off their back for good, we think there’s another element that played seriously into the equation. That element was the Dr. Gene Hansbrough Karma.

Forget Roy Williams, forget Bill Self, forget Kansas’ fan base, forget that the Jayhawks looked twice as athletic as the Tarheels on Saturday. As far as we’re concerned, that UNC loss was all about the copious amounts of negative karma brought on by Tyler Hansbrough’s dad, Dr. Gene. Your dad can only spend so many of your televised games blubbering in the stands like a raging idiot before it catches up with you.

And, as the Karma gods are prone to do, they waited for the biggest national spot to enforce their will.

Things your dad can do when you’re a high profile athlete: Attend your games, where one article of team apparel, be televised a maximum of two times a game, drink beers in the stands, eat hot dogs, be accompanied by your mom, be accompanied by some hot chick that’s not your mom, applaud conservatively, fist pump on occasion, tell a ref to “go fuck yourself”, and picture cheerleaders naked.

Things your dad CAN’T DO when you’re a high profile athlete: Be televised so often that casual fans not only know him by first name, they swear they’ll fight him if they ever see him in a bar, WEEP INCESSANTLY, cheer harder than any foreign undergrad in the Duke student section, get more air time than your head coach, have play-by-play guys talk about how smart you are because your dad’s an orthopedic surgeon, or WEEP INCESSANTLY IN THE FIRST HALF BECAUSE YOU MADE A THREE POINT PLAY.

All of the above will garner your team a loss in the most critical of situations. The world’s balance will only take so much douchebaggery. Let’s all learn a lesson from this and be sure to see it coming in the future.

You know the guy. WE ALL know the guy. That one dude in your pool who picks the most spineless bracket possible every single year. He’s the guy you regularly refer to as “dickless asshole” or “my one gay buddy” whenever you’re casually discussing the NCAA tournament at work or in a bar. He’s the guy all your friends raced to make a sarcastic comment about when you saw he picked a 3 seed to upset a 2 seed in the Sweet Sixteen (for the record, you thought your line about him “also joining a pyramid scheme” was pretty money).

Every single year he’s consistently mocked and belittled for his inability to sack up and at least pretend to show some insight. But not this year. Not today. No, March 31, 2008 will be remembered as…

THE DAY MR. CHALK TELLS YOU TO EAT A DONG!

Four #1s in the Final Four! Count ‘em! Four! Who has the insight now?! Who knows sports now?! Who’s the big fucking lameass now?! Who outside of Mr. Chalk could have envisioned Memphis’ free throw percentage not catching up with them, UCLA’s injury rumors being overstated, Bill Self not turning into Bill Self when the pressure was on, and Tyler Hansbrough’s complete lack of NBA potential never coming into play?

Today’s the day you make peace with the fact that Mr. Chalk will be taking your hard earned money. It may help for you to laugh off the audacity. It may help to commiserate with your friends. Or it may help to tell yourself that Clark Kellogg–someone with limited working knowledge of the sport–was the only person who watches college basketball for a living who picked all #1 seeds in the Final Four.

But whatever way you slice it, it’s officially the year of the lameass. It may be time to start preparing for Lakers and Yankees championships and dudes with beards marrying chicks way out of their league.

[Site Note: We’d like to apologize for the lack of content at the end of last week and our inability to give out superlatives this morning. It’s wedding season, and we’ll be spending the next few weekends traumatizing bridesmaids and pitching the idea of escaping to Tijuana to grooms. Things should be back to normal shortly. Please bear with us. Thanks.]

Stephen Curry is a baby-faced assassin. Would you have ever thought you’d rather be Dell Curry’s kid than Patrick Ewing’s? Keep in mind that choosing to be Dell Curry’s kid also means you’d feel kind of weird when thinking about what a cougar your mom is.

The Tampa Bay Massacre should go down as one of the biggest anomalies in sports history and we haven’t heard anyone mention it since Saturday morning. How the hell did four separate higher seeds get incarnated by the 1976 Bucs on the same day?

Indiana doesn’t deserve to get out of the first round until they figure out an alternative to the baggy t-shirt underneath the jersey. Those dudes look like an out of shape middle school squad.

How disappointed would you be if Bruce Pearl wasn’t around for the sweet sixteen?

Was anyone else’s first reaction to Western Kentucky’s game winning shot over Drake a slight sense of devastation at the realization that Kyle Korver’s little brother would no longer be in the tournament?

Who would have thought Washington State would be arguably the most impressive team (along with North Carolina) through the first two rounds of the tourney? That guy on ESPN’s crew who holds up the Cougars flag in the background of College Gameday must have a debilitating rager right now.

So, is Arkansas’ Steven Hill clever enough to be using his haircut to pay tribute to Luke Wilson’s character in “The Royal Tenenbaums”, which would also indirectly mean he’s paying tribute to Bjorn Borg?

Speaking of white guy hairstyles, the dudes from Davidson all look like they’re about to walk into auditions for “Charles in Charge”.

With names like Brook and Robin, it’s good a thing the Stanford twins are seven feet tall and above average at basketball. We have two male cousins named Gale and Ashley, and let’s just say life’s a little bit different for them.

Is the irony of Bob Huggins (non-graduator of players / accumulator of DUIs) knocking Mike Krzyzewski (molder of men) out of the tournament continuing to blow anyone else’s mind right now?

True or False: Having a beer with Ben Hansbrough seems like it would be a million times more awesome than having a beer with his brother Tyler.

And now on to handing out superlatives for the weekend that was…

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We hand out superlatives for the weekend that was.

Achievements in Awesomeness

College Basketball in March. Buzzer Beaters. Upsets. Tornadoes in Atlanta. Bubble Breakers. Cutting down nets. BRACKETS. Selection Sunday shows. BRACKETS. Teams getting shafted. BRACKETS. Beasley v. Mayo in the first round. BRACKETS. Dominating the suckers in your work pool. BRACKETS!!!!!

We get a big uncomfortable rager this time of year. No way around it. The next three days are just one big tedious countdown to slacking off on Thursday and Friday. This video of Minnesota’s ri-fucking-diculous win over Indiana pretty much sums up how we fell right now:

Site News Note: NextRound’s 1st Annual Tournament Challenge: Booth v. All will debut this afternoon. Get excited.

Weekend’s Big Winner

Dennis Felton. Felton’s Tom Coughlin inspired coaching and Georgia’s out-of-nowhere play not only got the Bulldogs into the NCAAs, but also saved a job Felton pretty much deserved to lose. Thank god for the motivating power of urban tornadoes. And as an added bonus–if Felton is a real diabolical son of a bitch–he can take great satisfaction in knowing his team managed to steal a NCAA bid away from a team that’s actually good. Which brings us too…

Weekend’s Big Loser

Seth Greenberg. Virginia Tech barely lost a tough game to North Carolina on Saturday. Following it, their coach Seth Greenberg openly lobbied for the Hokies and their qualifications to be in the dance only to have his heart ripped directly from his chest on Sunday as the selection committee only took four ACC schools. Seth, that’s a tough beat. We feel ya. Billy Packer is taking new appointments if you want to discuss further.

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We hand out superlatives for the weekend that was.

Achievements in Awesomeness

Lebron James. Saturday night Lebron knocked down his third straight halftime buzzer beating bucket, this one a reverse slam where he reminded the world that he’s a redonkulously freaky talent the likes of which we are just beginning to comprehend. And some people talk about Kobe being the best in the league. What a bunch of uninformed assholes.

Redefining Suckiness

Taking Tough Money Line Beats. Georgetown winning a sloppy defensive game by three points when you have the Louisville moneyline and the spread is 3.5 is not the ideal way to start your Saturday. On a separate note, ending your Saturday in the bedroom of a chick that outweighs you is not ideal either.

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