Bob Costas gets a reprieve this week (although, for the record, the complete 180 he did this past Sunday while commenting on the Josh Brent situation earns him the honor of being a total pussy…that, or he overcorrected because he fears The Machine, in which case, smart move).

No, this week we focus our attention on Brandon Jacobs, the suspended (soon to be former) 49ers RB.  Oh Brandon, 10 months ago you were on top of the world:  you just won your second Super Bowl with the G-Men, you became the Giants all-time leader in rushing touchdowns, and, even though you’re on the wrong side of 30, teaming up with Ahmad Bradshaw ensured some added longevity and a real shot at getting a third ring and a chance at football immortality.  But no, Brandon was disgruntled by his diminished playing time (note: you know someone’s a total d-bag when they’re on a championship team complaining about playing time) and it was apparent he was not coming back.

So, curiously, Brandon signed with the Niners in the offseason.  Yes, the same Niners that have the no doubt undisputed #1 RB in Frank Gore, quality backups in Kendall Hunter and Anthony Dixon, and rookie LaMichael James.  If he was pissed about sharing time with Bradshaw, how was he going to handle an orgy in the backfield?  Yes, this had train wreck written all over it.  The Machine snuggled in and waited for the crazy.

And so, 13 games into his first season that resulted in five carries for seven yards (a solid 1.4 yards per carry) the train made its final stop in Crazytown.  Brandon, clearly upset with his lack of opportunities and placement on the depth chart, did what any upstanding professional would do: he complained on social media, saying he was “rotting away” on the bench and calling this season his worst, and then, in total buyer’s remorse fashion, posted pictures of his Super Bowl ring and himself playing for the Giants.  This prompted the Niners to suspend Jacobs for the rest of the season (without pay), and it’s likely they won’t bring him back for the playoffs, and almost certainly he won’t be suiting up for them next year.  While normally you’d feel bad about someone losing their job, here, it feels so good for many reason.

First, complaining about your job on social media is a move reserved for teachers…it’s tough to garner sympathy for someone who’s made millions of dollars playing a game (it’s also hard for The Machine to have sympathy for people that work half the year and get summers off).

Second, this type of petulant, self-absorbed behavior has defined Brandon.  When the going gets tough, he quits.  A google search will tell you that Brandon went to college at Southern Illinois, not a traditional powerhouse program.  However, a beer with The Machine will tell you that he first started out at Auburn, which is a traditional powerhouse program.  In the backfield with him at Auburn were future NFL players Cadillac Williams and Ronnie Brown.  Instead of staying at Auburn, competing with Cadillac and Ronnie and working his way up the RB ladder, Brandon took his ball and goes to Southern Illinois, a Division I-AA (or whatever it’s called now) school.  It’s no wonder why Cadillac and Ronnie became first round draft picks and Jacobs fell to the fourth.

Third, and perhaps more importantly, you knew this was going to happen the moment you left the Giants.  Anyone that knows anything about the Giants (we dare you to test The Machine’s knowledge here) knows that, unless your name is Manning, you are a role player.  The recent list of former G-Men that left to seek richer pastures and have failed miserably is long and telling:  Kevin Boss, Derrick Ward, Steve Smith, Ryan Grant, even Mario Manningham.  All of these players left and have had little or no impact.  These players thought they were better than they really are, and failed to realize they had a pretty good gig in New York.  On the other hand, the Giants plug in players, Jake Ballard (now Martellus Bennent), Victor Cruz, David Wilson, Domenik Hixon) and they don’t miss a beat.  It’s as if Coach Coughlin and Jerry Reese know what they’re doing in building a roster with talent and depth.

So Brandon, while you file your inevitable appeal with the NFLPA and begin your quest for social media rehabilitation (look for a feel good story involving Brandon in the upcoming weeks) The Machine hopes you’ve banked away some cash, cause it looks like you’re playing days are over.  While some team may be dumb enough to sign you (you can’t teach 6’4”, 264) you’re never going to see the kind of cash you think you deserve.  You’re a 30 year old RB with bad knees and an even worse attitude problem.  Instead, you’ll see a one year, heavily incentive laden contract…typical for problem child athletes (see TO).

Bottom line:  you’re not worth the headache and distraction…but you are worth a Tuesday Teabag.  Enjoy.

No one has been more controversial this past week than Bob Costas.  Who knew such a small man could cause so much controversy.  For those living in bubble, let’s recap:  Over the weekend, the sports world was rocked with a horrible tragedy:  Chiefs linebacker Jovan Belcher shot and killed his girlfriend, and then headed to Arrowhead where he shot and killed himself.  The story gets even sadder, knowing that he left a 3 month old daughter behind and that his coaches were there when he shot himself.

That should be the story:  a horrible family tragedy that unfortunately unfolded in the public eye.  But no, apparently the story’s not sensational enough for the media.  Cue Mighty Mouse.

While the Machine was (re)checking its fantasy scores Sunday night (don’t worry, we made the playoffs) we listened to Costas deliver his halftime monologue.  And what we heard shocked us.

Instead of respectfully commentating on the tragedy, maybe advocating for more counseling and related services for players, Costas took a sharp left (pun intended) and felt it appropriate to go on a gun control rant.

Quoting Jason Whitlock, who really should share this Tuesday Teabag, Costas proclaimed:  “In the coming days, Jovan Belcher’s actions and their possible connection to football will be analyzed.  Who knows? But here…is what I believe.  If Jovan Belcher didn’t possess a gun, he and Kasandra Perkins would both be alive today.”  This is absurd and infuriating for several reasons.

First, let’s stop saying that crimes are committed because of accessibility to guns.  Banning guns won’t stop people from using them.  Drugs are illegal, but the last time we checked, by our unscientific method of attending a Dave Mathews Band concert, a lot of people smoke weed.  Legal or not, if someone wants to get a gun, just like if someone wants a blunt, they’ll find it.

Second, saying they’d both be alive if Jovan didn’t have a gun is sensationalism at its best.  You have no fucking clue what would happen.  OJ (or the real killer) didn’t have a gun.  The rush to blame everything except the actions of people says a lot about our society.  It’s not McDonald’s fault you’re fat…it’s your inability to lay off the fucking McNuggets and Mountain Dew.

Perhaps most infuriating is the blatant violation the “Know your role” rule.  Do you get financial advice from your garbage man?  How about culinary tips from your accountant?  Ever watch the weather for home improvement tips?  Of course not.  The Machine would have less of a problem if Chris Mathews got on a gun control soapbox on Hardball.  That’s his job, he knows his role, and that’s what really puts Costas in The Machine’s crosshairs.  You’re an elf-like man that appears on Sundays for football and every two years for the Olympics.  You’re pretty much a Gremlin (note: do not feed Costas after midnight), but you’re a sports Gremlin.  Don’t think you’re anything more than that (ask Keith Olberman).  Politics shouldn’t find its way into halftime.  Don’t push the leftist media agenda when all we want are highlights from the Jets game. 

Your ceiling, while actually shorter than most because you live in a dollhouse, is sitting fireside interviewing the gold medalist in the Women’s Freestyle.  Know.  Your.  Role.

Enjoy your teabag.

There were a lot of things to be thankful for over the past week:  an endless supply of stuffing, pie, and football.  Who cares if you have to spend it with family members (that’s what alcohol is for), you’re still coming out on top!  Even though the week was filled with thanks, there were still a healthy supply of teabags to go around.  Receiving HMTs (honorable mention teabags) this week (the first ever) are:

1. Ndamukung Suh for his junk kick to Matt Schaub.  The Machine saw it live and watched the replay over and over and there’s only one conclusion:  Of course it was intentional.  The Machine loves a good villain, but Suh is a straight up douche-star.  That the NFL didn’t suspend him is truly amazing.
2. Jim Schwartz for throwing the challenge flag on a scoring play, thus nullifying the automatic review.  If you’ve ever yelled at a player for committing a dumb penalty (like say, when your defense holds on third down only for the lineman that made the tackle to head-butt the opponent) now you know why:  emotions run high, and football players are not really smart people.  Well, add coaches to that list too.  You know the rule Jim.  Sure, the rule’s asinine, but it’s still the rule.  You’re the coach…you’re supposed to be in control of your emotions, but I guess we can’t expect much from the guy involved in Handshake Gate.  Note to self, do not go hunting with Jim Schwartz (“hey Jim, did you hear that sound over there?” [BAM, BAM, BAM…walking over to bushes] “nope not a deer…just another hunter.  Umm, let’s go.”)

While both Suh and Coach Schwartz are worthy choices, this weeks’ Tuesday Teabag goes to none other than Fireman Ed, the iconic Jets fan who leads the stadium in the very tough cheer that involves spelling the word Jets AND saying it three times (you try doing that without a spotter).

Anyway, Fireman Ed has decided to retire.  That’s right, the team’s number 1 fan has quit on them.  After the Thanksgiving massacre to the Patriots, Fireman Ed deleted his twitter account (note:  anyone over the age of 50 should not have a twitter account) and announced to the world he’s done.  It’s understandable to want to quit on the Jets…it’s apparent the players have already done so.  But what’s interesting is the reason behind him hanging up the Most. Annoying. Cheer. Ever.

Fireman Ed didn’t retire because he’s upset with the team, disgusted over the product the Jets put out while charging their fans ridiculous amounts of money (how do you like ‘dem PSL fees?).  Nope, Fireman Ed quit because other Jets fans are assholes.  “The stadium has become divided because of the quarterback controversy,” bemoans Fireman Ed.  “The fact that I chose to wear a Mark Sanchez jersey this year, and that fans think I am on the payroll — which is an outright lie — have made these confrontations more frequent. Whether it’s in the stands, the bathroom or the parking lot, these confrontations are happening on a consistent basis.”

This ranks right up there with Tebow and foot-gate on the Jets freakshow meter.  How bad are things for the Jets?  Their own fans are turning on each other.  You can’t really get more toxic than that.

But come on, Fireman Ed, don’t be such a pussy!  Man up.  Did you ever come upon a burning building and say “hey guys, that fire’s a little too hot, I’m gonna sit this one out.”  Of course not.  You wanted to be the center of attention and the leader of a bunch of drunk (and apparently spelling-challenged) Long Islanders.  With great power comes great responsibility.

What’s even worse, he’s still going to show up to the games, just not as Fireman Ed.  You think the fans won’t bust your balls for that?  Also, it’s going to lead to some awkward TV shots of a despondent plain clothes Ed, sans fireman helmet and dignity.

What are the Jets going to do now (besides implode and further rot away their fanbase)?  Who’s going to lead their fans?  The Machine votes for drunk Joe Namath…now that guy knows how to party, right Suzy?

Anyway, here’s to you Fireman Ed.  A Tuesday Teabag to add to your collection of worthless acknowledgments you’ve received over the years.  Also, The Machine’s calling total bullshit on you.  Guaranteed that you’ll pull a Favre and come out of retirement by next season.

Wait a minute, an NBA related Tuesday Teabag?  We thought you hated the NBA, Machine?  Well, all it took was a drink and dial from David Stern to get our attention.  And when our attention’s focused, no one’s safe.

But first things first.  Who are Tyrone Terrell and Ron Edwards?  Well, Tyrone Terrell is the Chairman of the Twin Cities (that’s Minneapolis and St. Paul) African American Leadership Council, and Ron Edwards is the former head of the Minnesota Civil Rights Commission, and now host of a local TV show focusing on black issues.

Recently, both men came out and spoke against the fact that there are a lot of white guys on the Timberwolves.  However, both men did a little more than just acknowledge their ability to state the obvious.  They claim that having so many whiteys is intentional (read: racist).  “How did we get to a roster that resembles the 1955 Lakers?” Terrell said in a statement in the Minneapolis Star Tribune. “I think everything is a strategy. Nothing happens by happenstance.”  Chimed Edwards, “I think, personally, that was calculated.  Is this an attempt to get fans back in the stands?  Minnesota, after all, is a pretty white state.”

Holy shit.  Where do we begin?  Let’s start with Minnesota is a pretty white state.  Ok, no argument there.  The Machine’s half-Italian and we’re pretty sure that qualifies as black in Minnesota.  But the rest is just crazy.  It’s more than crazy:  it’s inflammatory and irresponsible.

So the Timberwolves have 10 (out of 15) white guys.  In other words, 33% of the roster is black, far below the league average of 78%.  Is it weird to see four white guys on the court on the same team when that team is not Princeton?  Sure, it’s weird.  But racist?  Intentionally designed to mirror the fans?  What other facts do you have to back up your claims?  Oh, nothing.  That’s not only crazy talk, but simply ignorant and, dare we say, racist itself.

First, let’s stop pretending that the front office only recruits the white.  This past offseason, the T-wolves tried to sign Jordan Hill and Nicholas Batum, both black.  Hill re-signed with the Lakers (can you blame him?) and the Trailblazer’s matched Minnesota’s offer for Batum.  Somehow, that fact was lost on both Terrell and Edwards.

Second, if we’re merely playing the percentage game, blacks make up less than 13% of the U.S. population, but shockingly Terrell and Edwards have no problem that the average NBA team is 78% black, six times more than the national average.  Shit, the Timberwolves, at 33% black, are still well above the national average.  Of course it’s not just about percentages.  It’s about winning.

Third, it’s not like the T-Wolves asked Big Country to come out of retirement, and signed John Rocker to play the 2 spot.  Their white players, Kevin Love, Ricky Rubio, Andrei Kirilenko, Luke Ridnour, Nikola Pecovik (how many of those names sound Mid-western white?) are pretty good.

Fourth, lost in all this bullshit is the fact that the T-Wolves are a very diverse team.  Five of their ten whities are foreigners, double the league average.  They have players from Spain, Russia, Montenegro (sounds black), and Puerto Rico.  In fact, you can make a good argument that the T-Wolves are the most diverse team in the NBA.

But for Terrell and Edwards, it’s not enough to be diverse.  You have to be their kind of diverse.  And if you’re not, then obviously the only answer is you’re a racist.

Look, we get that being a civil rights activist in a state where there are no black people must be boring.  And are there enough black issues in Minnesota to have a TV show?  We highly doubt it, although The Machine would love to be a guest.  Hook it up!  Bottom line, before you start playing the race card, do your homework.  Because, when you don’t, and instead make bold, factually unsupported allegations of racism where clearly none exist, you sound absolutely moronic, and nothing more than a desperate and pathetic attempt to use race as a way to get attention for yourself.

Well, consider that goal achieved.  So while you’re well on your way to winning a Source Award, congrats on the only award that matters and is truly color blind.  A Tuesday Teabag.

Let’s move off of baseball and (gasp!) football for a second and focus on another professional sport, or, more accurately, a “professional” sport.  Why throw up dick fingers around professional, you ask?  Simple.

The NHL and its union are in the middle of another labor battle, the second in eight years.  The league has already canceled games through November, and, since the league and the union can’t even agree to meet with each other (each side has stated that they are willing to meet but blamed the other for not wanting to – how is that possible?) more games will certainly be canceled, possibly the entire season.

But here’s the problem:  Nobody gives a shit.  At least, nobody in America gives a shit, and that’s all The Machine cares about (suck it, Canada).  Seriously, no one cares.  The Machine’s willing to bet if you ask 10 regular Americans their thoughts on the NHL lockout, 6 will have no clue there is one, 2 won’t even know the season should’ve already started, and the other 2 will have heard about it, but still wouldn’t be able to tell you who won the Stanley Cup last year.

Complicating matters is the fact that players have other options.  Unlike the NFL, there are other professional leagues players can turn to.  There are over 140 NHL players currently playing in other professional leagues.  And not just scrub NHL players…names like Alexander Ovechkin, Evgeni Malkin, Patrick Kane, Daniel Briere, Zdeno Chara, Jaromir Jagr, the heavyweights of the NHL.  That poses a big problem.  Since the risk of injury is so high, these players run the risk of damaging their NHL careers by playing in smoked filled arenas in Moscow, which in turns runs the risk of watering down the competition when (read: if) the labor fight ends.

But I digress.  Another, perhaps bigger, problem is there is no pressure to get a deal done.  The owners, you know, the rich, old white guys that buy sports franchises for fun, are already rich as shit and thus will not sign a deal just to sign a deal.  The players, unlike the NFL, have other, good paying jobs to seek refuge to.  And, to top it off, the public by and large doesn’t care (contrast this with the NFL last year, when people went ape-shit after the Hall of Fame pre-season game was canceled).  All of this combined leads to no incentive to get back on the ice anytime soon.

Hey, if there’s any professional athlete that deserves to make bank, it’s an NHL player.  These guys risk their lives every game.  If you’ve ever been to an NHL game (watching it on TV doesn’t really do it justice) you see firsthand the speed, power, and bone-crushing hits that define the NHL.  It’s an amazing contrast of finesse and force.

However, that alone won’t get you paid.  Size matters, and in professional sports, the size that matters is the size of your TV deal, endorsements, merchandise sales, and ticket sales.  And, in these areas, the NHL is light years behind the rest.  The NHL ranks fifth in total revenue, behind the NFL, MLB, NBA, EPL (that’s English Premier League, America); just above perennial last place league the MLS).

Bottom line:  get your asses in a conference room and get a deal done.  Shit, go to any city in Canada where you will actually feel pressure from the public to end this.  Two lockouts in eight years is unacceptable for any sport, and even more so for a sport with fleeting public interest and low revenues.

And while the league and the union continue to blame each other, here’s something they both can take credit for.  A Tuesday Teabag.