Carmelo Anthony’s DUI arrest the other night got us to thinking about how pro athletes rarely ever seem to achieve the happy medium between stone cold sober and absolutely shitfaced. It’s all or nothing. And accordingly, we’ve decided to compile the reasons why.

Modern athletes can’t handle their booze BECAUSE:

“We have a deal!” Much like the pact humans have with pigeons (where pigeons get out of our way and we in turn disregard their statue defecation, as outlined by our mentor George Costanza), the average guy has a silent pact with pro athletes where we can drink three times as many beers as them and they can bang lingerie models with little to no effort.

Wade Boggs already drank his share and every other athletes share through 2025.

Unlike you and us, the modern athlete hits the gym twice a day and owns a hyperbaric chamber. Booze is a complete and debilitating shock to their system. That’s why in college the soccer player always had a penis drawn on his face by 1 AM.

Canadians and Germans were never meant to party together. It’s just unnatural.

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Die hard college football fans like ourselves have spent the week questioning the motives behind South Carolina quarterback Stephen Garcia’s actions after he once again failed to avoid getting busted for underage drinking this week. Outside of an unfortunate haircut and the inability to drink booze behind closed doors, Garcia seemingly has a lot going for him: strong arm, Spurrier’s offense, program dying for a game changer, good family, etc. So why does this kid continue to sabotage himself by doing the same GD thing over and over? Does he simply just love the beers that much?

Then it hit us like a ray of sunlight creeping through a fatty’s apartment window on a Saturday morning: Stephen Garcia wants to be Tim Riggins.

Tough to blame the kid, Tim Riggins is really awesome, and who doesn’t want to be awesome? The problem is Riggins is a fictional character and Garcia is apparently too naive (or maybe dumb or delusional) to have yet grasped that real life is not as cool as fiction. If it was we would have gotten laid a whole bunch instead of being escorted out by security when we tried our hand at wedding crashing.

We’ve been lucky enough to stumble upon Garcia’s checklist of how to be more like Tim Riggins. It’s pretty obvious the endgame here is to be awesome like Riggins (i.e. bang hot chicks and make everyone think you’re a tortured, complex individual).

Stephen’s List of How to Be More Like Tim

1) Drink Beers. All. The. Time. Just like Tim does. Nothing spells out how cool and tough you are for you like ALWAYS drinking. For breakfast, in class, during two-a-days. CHECK

2) Be Aloof. You’re actions need to tell the world that you are your own worst enemy. No one will take you seriously as a complicated bad ass unless you keep repeating the same stupid shit to fuck up your life over and over again. In Progress

3) Get Cool Hair. No explanation necessary. CHECK

4) Bang Best Friend’s Hot Girlfriend. Two-parter. First get best friend with hot girlfriend, then bang her. In Progress

5) Create Issues with Dad. Keep telling him he’s an asshole for abandoning us. He may act confused but stay the course. In Progress

6) Bang Hot Older Chick. Continue to lay ground work with several female professors. Should probably be coring one of them out any day now. In Progress

7) Piss Off Coach, Then Earn His Respect Back, Then Piss Him Off Again. Continue to repeat. CHECK

Man, Spurrier must be dying for this show to get canceled already.

On December 1, 2007, the Pitt Panthers defeated the West Virginia Mountaineers 13-9 in a game that the Mountaineers should have won handily on their way to play for the BCS Championship.

The ripple affect that followed Pitt’s win has been of a magnitude previously undocumented. Historians will later theorize that the body of Dave Wannstedt was possessed by the soul of Vince Lombardi for an evening.

What If Dave Wannstedt Had Been Dave Wannstedt for a Night?

West Virginia and Rich Rodriguez play Ohio State in the National Championship game. The two weakest BCS conferences go head to head in a competitive game that suggests both teams deserve to be there, quelling the notion that a playoff needs to happen ASAP. University of Georgia President, Michael Adams, doesn’t do an eightball and make the brazen claim to the rest of college football that he’ll be pushing for an eight team playoff.

LSU doesn’t backdoor their way into the National Championship. They play in the Sugar Bowl, and Les Miles takes the Michigan job shortly after the SEC Championship game. Miles and Bo Pellini bolt for the new respective jobs leaving Matt Flynn to player-coach the team against Hawaii in the Sugar Bowl, “Varsity Blues” style.

Children across the nation are never scared into wetting their beds from this press conference:

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Ryan Gosling’s career has evolved from the Mickey Mouse Club and lameass tearjerkers like “The Notebook” to acting in critically acclaimed independents like “Half Nelson” and “Lars and the Real Girl”.

That, of course, doesn’t mean any of these recent indies are good movies by our standards, they’re just not the cookie cutter crap Gosling has churned out in the past.

The only reason we’re telling you this is because it appears that along with now doing quirky films, Gosling himself has evolved into quite the eccentric weirdo, the type of actor who’s pretty good when a director finally gets him on camera, but has the people skills of a shut-in, sounds like a mental patient when interviewed, and decidedly doesn’t give a shit about their own physical well-being. A la Marlon Brando.

Here’s what we know:

1) Gosling’s Canadian. That’s got weirdo written all over it.

2) The dude is getting porky. He just got axed from Peter Jackson’s new film, “The Lovely Bones”, where insiders claim Jackson fired him because he “gained too much weight!”

Sure, the PR reps cited “creative differences”, but all evidence points to Gosling getting sacked for eating “grilled cheese every day” and driving “the hair and wardrobe crew crazy.” [Us, WWTDD]

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In case you’re unaware, this year is shaping up to be the fateful “Year of The Masshole”, the year millions of God-fearing Bostonians have been awaiting since birth.

The Patriots are dominate. The Celtics are Eastern Conference favorites (especially after handing out a few preseason pastings), and Boston College is ranked # 3 in the nation. 

But over the next few days it all hangs in the balance. The “YOTM” may be lost forever if the Red Sox go down to the Indians.

You see, The “Year of the Masshole” is a celestial event. A multitude of presumably unrelated events have to fall precisely into place for it to happen, not unlike a solar eclipse or an enjoyable John Travolta movie. And with the Sox staring down 1-3, they are on the cusp of blowing it for every Masshole in existence.

Ironic, huh? The prodigal son of Boston sports might prevent another Super Bowl for the Patriots, a Tom Brady MVP, a NBA Finals appearance for the Celtics, a Kevin Garnett playoffs run, a Paul Pierce revival, Boston College in a BCS game, and a Matt Ryan Heisman.

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Or a WNBA team. Or a MLS team. Or a microbrewery.

Whatever we have the Rockies confused for it’s something completely insignificant. Not a Major League Baseball team.

It must be a NHL team. Only if the Rockies played a sport cherished by Canadians could they be getting this little respect in the US of A. They’re ridiculously improbable and fascinating run that’s landed them in the World Series is the most underrated thing we’ve come across since “Man on Fire”.

And “Man on Fire” was SEVERELY underrated.

Maybe it’s the Rockies’ sleeveless jerseys. Those things are super weak. Maybe it’s Todd Helton’s goatee. That monstrosity makes it difficult to take him or any organization that would employ him seriously, the A.J. Soprano Chinstrap Effect.

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It is rumored that many, many years ago in the champagne room of the Crazy Horse Too in Vegas three professional athletes–each early in their careers–made an irrevocable wager to see who could play professional sports the longest.

The first of the three unable to sign a professional sports contract with a team in one of their respective leagues (MLB, NFL, and NBA) would lose the wager.

The three athletes were Julio Franco, Vinny Testaverde, and Kevin Willis.

If you take the time to chart their respective careers it becomes painfully visible that some outside force is motivating them. Otherwise, it would be insane for these men to continually attempt to prolong their careers when they are so blatantly and dramatically past their primes.

Where most competent men in any of their positions would have retired decades ago, these three men persist. They trudge from metropolitan area to metropolitan area, joining any roster that will have them, obsessively driven to not be outdone by their competitors.

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Isiah Thomas and the Knicks were found guilty of sexual harassment. There were plenty of media accounts throughout the week, so we’re not going to bore you with facts (because facts are often boring) and we aren’t interested in getting into the ‘what constitutes sexual harassment’ debate (because we’ve recently been harassed at a local gentlemen’s club and our wounds are still fresh).

Here’s what you need to know: Isiah did harass this chick, but he did it on purpose.

That’s right. On purpose. With a motive. Just not the same motive as that dude in your office who wears short sleeve dress shirts.

You see, since the beginning of time (or 1978, when Isiah started playing high profile hoops) basketball insiders have theorized that Isiah is a homosexual. When you look at the evidence, it’s difficult to argue:

1. Played for the Indiana Hoosiers.

2. Teammates with Dennis Rodman, Bill Laimbeer, and John Salley.

3. Habitually smiled while wearing nut-huggers.

4. Frequently kissed other dudes.

5. Overlooked for the ‘92 Dream Team.

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By now you’re aware that Kiefer Sutherland got a DUI late Monday night/early Tuesday morning.

According to TMZ this is a) Kiefer’s second DUI in five years, b) Kiefer was almost double the legal limit, and c) Kiefer clocked in at 5′10″, 150 lbs at the L.A. police department.

A lot of things are probably going through your head right now. Things like: How could Kiefer be so irresponsible? What kind of example does this set for the kids? How tough is it to get a cab in L.A.? How many chardonnays do you have to drink to double the legal limit when you only weigh 150 fucking pounds?

Normally we wouldn’t do this, but with the mass hysteria created by this incident, we’re going to reveal a little secret: There is no Kiefer Sutherland.

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O.J. Simpson was released on 250K bail yesterday after being charged with 10 felonies, including kidnapping, all in association with an altercation in Vegas over sports memorabilia.

Posting bail appears to be one of the few things in O.J.’s life that The Real Killer hasn’t been capable of sabotaging.

In case you’re completely oblivious and haven’t been able to read through the lines of all the garbage the mainstream media feeds you, here’s what you need to know: The Real Killer has been attempting to ruin O.J.’s life for quite some time.

We’re not sure when The Real Killer became a fixture in O.J.’s life, or what The Real Killer’s true motivation is–outside of unadulterated evil, of course–but the remainder of this article will attempt to enlighten you.

O.J. was born in 1947 and his parents separated in 1952. Most theorists conjecture that 1952 is too early a date for The Real Killer to have been responsible for O.J.’s parents’ separation. We humbly disagree. The Real Killer is highly motivated and probably new of Mrs. Simpson’s penchant for scotch.

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