Monthly Archives: March 2009

IKH Episode 329: In Which Keith Reacts Badly to his Elimination from his Office NCAA Pool While Dreading Interaction With the Recent Carolina Grad

When we all left work on Friday, I was comfortably in the lead in our office March Madness pool.  Scoring a perfect 8 for 8 in the Sweet 16 for the first time in my life, I was feeling good, like you know it should.   Not a lot of money at stake in this pool , but I had that feeling–that “I didn’t watch a college basketball game all year but I’m beating all of you in this pool again” feeling.

Cue the weekend. I had Pitt vs. Louisville in the Final.  And now Pitt and Louisville are gone, both eliminated this weekend.  Both of those teams are gone and my bracket is broken.

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The Old College Try


So I’m sitting here on a Friday night watching yet another NCAA blowout when it suddenly dawned on me; I hate college sports. I made the realization not a moment too soon, because I was struggling to find a topic to post about, and hate is a terrible thing to waste. Isn’t that what the United Negro College Fund says? I’m not 100% sure because I went to a white college.

But yeah, college athletics blow. I know this isn’t a popular sentiment, especially at this time of year – March Madness and all.  But I’m sticking by it. I maintain that the best thing about this year’s NCAA tournament so far is Keith’s preview. And don’t try to trip me up with that, “You still watch the tournament and most of the big college football games” bullshit. While that may be technically true, you don’t know me jack.

The reason I watch the tournament and the big football games is because I love sports on a basic, fundamental level. If people are competing, I’m in. It doesn’t even matter how legitimate the sport is: lacrosse, kayaking, target shooting, the WNBA – you name it. Shit, I’ve even watched women’s volleyball, and not just as jerkoff material. I’m a very sad person.

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David Lee vs. Nate Robinson

Wow, did the Knicks suck last night.  Losing to the Clippers takes a certain brand of last-assedness, and the Knicks had invented the last-ass scent months, maybe years ago.  (Last-ass, in case you’re wondering is the smell of a men’s public bathroom stall.)

I’m still watching this team though, not because they have a chance at the playoffs.  They look exhausted and they’ve  given up on defense because they realize they can’t play it anyway.  Which is great for IKH, but because we are in the playoffs!  That’s right, a solid season from Wilson Chandler, 3’s and assists from Chris Duhon and decent stats from ex-Knick and current thug Zach Randolph (who torched the Knicks for 15-21 shooting and 33 points last night)  have helped propel Beef Wennington, our fantasy team, into the playoffs.

Now granted we’re in the playoffs because of our non-Knicks; Bron-Bron, Tim Duncan, Kevin Durant and Tony Parker, to name a few.  But we’ve also got monster seasons from the subject of this post:  Nate Robinson and David Lee.


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NFL Offseason Report, Volume 1



Are you ready for some football? If not, you suck.

Take a hike and watch March baseball, or better yet the increasingly predictable NCAA tourney. (14 of the 16 remaining teams are top-four seeds, and the others are a No. 5 and a No. 12 from powerhouse conferences. Yawn. Wake me when the cheerleaders stop shaving their pussies.)

This is actually a great time of year for sports, but it’s not because of the impending baseball circle jerk and March Madness. Sure, I’ll watch all that stuff too, but the main attraction is that the NBA and NHL are in the stretch run, with the playoffs looming, and the NFL continues its domination of all things sport by making headlines year-round.

I’ve been meaning to wrap up some news and notes from around the league for a while now, and now that some of the primetime matchups are starting to leak out, it’s time.
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13 Goals and a Confession

Liverpool captain Steven Gerrard

Liverpool captain Steven Gerrard

Sports fandom is a bizarre and mysterious phenomenon.   Who knows how many singular events have led any person to become attracted and then addicted to a group of grownups playing kids games for sport.  Of course it has to be some combination of the geography we’re born into, the heritage of family tradition, and a huge heaping dose of personality disorders that can’t be helped, because we guys aren’t strong when it comes to restraint.  There’s a reason why men wake up at 4am to go catch fish or buy green pants to play golf or punch strangers at Little League games.  It’s stupidity.

Of course, it’s not just men and sports.  I heard a great story tonight about a woman who obsessed about ex-Replacements lead singer Paul Westerberg, the ringleader of a notorious band of drunken drugged underachievers.  If she heard any news of a Paul Westerberg show anywhere in the country, she’d fly to it and do everything in her power to get with PW.   He was the only man for her.  Considering Paul has mostly subsisted on a diet of pills, hatred and bar juice, this was a campaign with significant drawbacks.  I’m not sure what caused her to do this, but there’s a 95% chance it was a three-minute long Replacements song.

I do the same for the St. Louis Cardinals.  And as of today I now do the same for Liverpool FC after they scored 13 goals in one week, decimating Real Madrid and Manchester United (the two richest franchises in the world) and then today embarrassing a good Aston Villa team 5-0.

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Run, You Bitches!!

Apparently Sarah Palin ain’t the only bitch in Alaska. Dozens of the canine kind just wrapped up the annual pointless exercise in how far a pea-brained animal can run when it’s whipped and starved, otherwise known as the Iditarod. This is the kind of crazy shit Alaskans have to think up to keep themselves (relatively) sane. My guess is they need to come up with something better than a ridiculously long dog sled race, seeing as how they have abnormally high rates of suicide, domestic abuse and fetal alcohol syndrome. But hey, at least the weather’s nice, right?

One guy who loves Alaska is Lance Mackey, who just won his third consecutive Iditarod. He mushed his dogs over more than 1,000 miles of frozen, barren trail in an amazing 9 days, 21 hours. What an incredible athletic achievement.

Did you stop laughing yet? Don’t, because wait till you hear what the Los Angeles Times had to say in its coverage of the race:

“[Mackey’s] dogs, especially lead dog Larry, deserve as much credit as the 38-year-old Fairbanks musher.”

How generous of the reporter! I mean, sure, Mackey had the herculean task of standing – and sometimes sitting – on a sled for almost 10 straight days, but those mutts deserve at least some of the credit for all that, you know, running.

And hey, it’s not like it’s unsafe for the dogs, right? Right? Come correct L.A. Times:

“Lance and Larry, et al, crossed the finish line Wednesday at 11:38 a.m. in brilliant sunshine after almost 10 days on a bitter-cold trail, which, unfortunately claimed the lives of two huskies owned by a rookie musher.”

Ouch! Killing two of the participants in your race is a classic rookie mistake. But that musher will learn. Next year he’ll know exactly how hard to beat his dogs and for how long. And they will love him for it.

OR, if they have any brain power and self respect, they’ll snap in the middle of the night and eat him alive somewhere between Nulato and Kaltag, which for my money is the toughest stretch of the race. What, you think I don’t know shit about the Iditarod? Nigga pleeze!

Captain Clutch


The headline writers at the New York Post are legendary for good reason. Today’s front page was classic: Not So Fast You Greedy Bastards, referring to the AIG circlejerk . But the back page was spectacular: Wright Saves World.

Of course, that one was about Mets third baseman David Wright’s game-winning, bottom-of-the-ninth hit against Puerto Rico to advance in the World Baseball Classic. Good on him. As a Mets fan, I’m ecstatic about it. As a sports fan, not as much. There may be some towheaded young kid reading this on Bleacher Report right now saying, “Huh?” (I’m sure they’re also saying, “Why doesn’t this post have a picture of Christina Hendricks’ tits?” too, but that’s another story.) Let me explain in polite, inoffensive terms palatable to oversensitive sports fans.

The WBC doesn’t mean shit to me. It’s brand new, it’s contrived, it’s played at the wrong time of the year, and it can only do harm. Don’t think so? Ask Yankee fans what they think about Robinson Cano and Damaso Marte injuring their shoulders playing for the Dominican, or Red Sox Nation about how thrilled they are that Dustin Pedroia got hurt playing for Uncle Sam. On second thought, don’t ask either of those fan bases what they think, because the rest of the country is sick of those arrogant assholes.

The point is, these games are utterly meaningless, and I resent being asked to care about them. When Oliver Perez is throwing 85 pitches for Mexico, which has no chance of winning the WBC, and Carlos Beltran is leaping over fences to rob home runs like he did last night, they’re endangering their prospects of staying healthy for their real employer, Bernie Madoff. I mean the Mets!

(Put it in the books right now that I’m already blaming the Mets not winning the World Series once again this year on owner Fred Wilpon’s inability to afford Manny Ramirez because he lost millions to Madoff. Blaming the Jews is a time-tested strategy.)

About the only thing I DO care about regarding the WBC is that Wright knocked in the winner last night, proving once again how great he is. As if anyone needed convincing. Maybe some did, but not me. I wish he weren’t playing in this crapfest, but since his dad is a cop and he goes for all that patriotic, rah-rah bullshit, he couldn’t wait to wear the red, white and blue. So you can be damn sure I want him to play well while he’s there.

Wright is peaking at the right time, both athletically and sexually. He’s way behind Derek Jeter in the number of starlets banged, but he’s better looking and still has time to catch up. And Mariah Carey’s married now, so he won’t be making the same mistake the sainted one did. I’d never be able to forgive him if he went there.

On the field Wright is definitely twice the player Mr. Overrated is. Jeter should be thankful Wright saved his ass from being the goat last night, because the shortstop let two balls go by him that any decent Major Leaguer or Dominican fifth-grader would’ve gotten to. The man simply cannot make plays to his left. Captain Clutch is also hitting a whopping .263 for the tournament so far, to go along with his zero home runs and zilch RBI’s. Hope you get the mega contract extension you’re hoping for after the season, Pretty Boy.

To sum up, David Wright = good. WBC = bad. Derek Jeter = washed up. Mariah Carey = skank. Bernie Madoff = prison bitch.

Yeah, that about covers it.