Tuesday Teabag – February 26, 2013: D. Bryant

If a tweet is worth 140 characters and a picture is worth 1,000 words than please tell me, how much is a mug shot worth?!  Nick Nolte is still cashing in on his rather infamous photoshoot(s) with the popo; but he may have to relinquish his title as king of the batshit craziest mug shot, because there is a new sheriff in town……


That my friends is (are you ready for this) UNRESTRICTED free agent, HARVARD graduate, NFL starting defensive tackle Desmond Bryant.  Not to be confused with deadbeat mom-beater Dez Bryant of the Dallas “Get Loaded and Drive Home” Cowboys.  Sidenote: Dez was real quick to take to twitter to proclaim is innocence and detail his alibi.  Moral victory Dez, we get it; your time will come soon enough you ticking time bomb you!

But back to our friend, Desmond.  Dude, we’ve all been there (chances are, if you’re reading this blog you’ve been there more than once…..this month).   In fact, while you’re out there busting your ass each Sunday on the gridiron, The Machine is putting in a full days work at a local watering hole trying to get to the exact state you were in when the above picture was taken.  Eyes glazed to the point they look soulless; tongue so dry that you can’t bother keeping it in your mouth any longer; so disheveled that your clothing becomes an afterthought.  Hell, this bender was so rich you couldn’t even bother with some bling, a hat, or even with a proper shave.  Well done boss.

As for the crime, well, according to the LA Times, you were arrested “on a misdemeanor charge of criminal mischief after allegedly causing a commotion at a neighbor’s house while inebriated.”  Translation:  your hammered ass stumbled through your neighbor’s backyard, dropping some freestyle rhymes while kicking over their Mary-in-a-bathtub lawn decoration and dropping a deuce in their pool.  Again, we’ve all been there!  And we’ve all got that noisy bitch neighbor who is trigger happy with the 911 speed dial.  That’s why, in the same vein as Co-MVP’s, The Machine has decided to name your neighbors as Co-Teabag Award recipients.  They certainly could have helped the big fella to his house, gotten him tucked into bed and even scored a few game worn jerseys out of the whole ordeal.  That could have been a real win-win for your (not so close-knit) community.  Or course, the rest of us would have missed out on your gem of a mug shot, so I guess we owe those Debbie Downers an ounce of gratitude for that.

Sure, the photograph is embarrassing and all, but here is the real bitch of it.  Depending on who you ask, the average NFL career is between 3.5 years (DeSmith) and 6 year (RG1). Either way, it’s a very small window to make bank.  A majority of players will only get one opportunity to hit free agency and negotiate a second, and financially significant, contract.  Prior to your photo shoot, you had some decent negotiating power on your side.  In the last four years you suited up for 63 out of 64 games; registered 124 tackles, 11.5 sacks and 3 forced fumbles.  The last two season you’ve flashed some ability as a dependable, starting defensive tackle.  I think you could use Kendall Langford’s deal last offseason as a base: 4 years $24M, with $12M guaranteed.  Of course, that was before this…..


Now, tell me, what GM and what Owner wants to hand this guy $12-15M, guaranteed?!  It’s not that fact that you got blitzed (pun intended) and kicked your neighbor’s poodle.  It’s the timing of it that has cost you (and your agent) millions of (easy) free agency dollars!  This is such a brutally simple concept that NFL (and all professional athletes presumably) don’t comprehend.  Surround yourself with people who won’t let you do dumb things (or at least are willing to take the fall for you) until your playing days are over!

But I guess it has earned you mad respect in the mug shot community.  The Machine hopes that in a few years you and your neighbors will be able laugh at this whole story; but until then, enjoy your Teabag Award!

Tuesday Teabag – February 19, 2013 – Josh Hamilton

With football over, it’s time to focus on the misgivings of other athletes (for the counterpoint to the Teabag, check out our BOB).  This week, it’s none other than Josh Hamilton, the can’t miss/can’t miss a bar/found Jesus/loves the rock/doesn’t love the rock/just a matter of time before he falls off the wagon (again) kid.  You can say Josh had a pretty good offseason, signing a five year, $125 million dollar contract with the Angels.  But this goes to show you…even gobs of money won’t stop you from acting like a fool.

Josh, not content with looking at his bank account, found time to throw his old team, the Texas Rangers, and their fans, under the bus.  Josh complained that Dallas really wasn’t a baseball town, and that the fans are spoiled.  Now, these comments alone aren’t really eye-raising.  Sure, they’re dickish, but sometimes it’s ok to be dickish to your former employer.  However, there are rules for doing so.

If you were shunned and/or pushed out by your former club, then it’s ok.  No one gives Kevin Youkilis shit for ragging on the Red Sox.  Also, if your former Manager was Bobby Valentine, you get a lifetime pass.  But in Josh’s case, it’s different.

Josh was once the number one overall pick in the 1999 MLB draft for Tampa Bay.  However, he never realized his potential, primarily because he smoked and drank everything within a ten mile radius of the clubhouse.  Out of baseball, Josh returned in 2007 for one year with Cincinnati, and then parlayed that into five solid years with Texas…getting to two World Series and winning the AL MVP in 2010.  Sure, he had a couple of missteps (read: relapses) during those five years, but the Rangers stuck with him.  And that’s why he should kiss the ground they (and their fans) walk on.

Josh is just another example of talent trumping character…but even that has its limits.  Josh became a hero in Dallas because they stuck with him and waited for him to realize his potential…that, and averaging more than 28 homers and 101 RBI will do it.  We’re suckers for a feel good story of perseverance and conquering addictions.  Texas could have easily cut him during one of his mini-benders and no one would’ve batted an eye.  Sure, someone else would’ve given him (another) chance, but not to the tune of five years, $125 million.

No one should be thanking their old team more than Josh.  Seriously, for his introductory press conference in LA, he should’ve worn a throwback Nolan Ryan Angels  jersey and thanked his old boss for giving him the chance to become a star.  Instead, he shows his true colors by immediately turning his back on those who supported him the most.  After his comments went viral, Josh (read: his publicist) was quick to issue the “taken out of context” line the next day, but The Machine’s not buying that.  Query:  has the “taken out of context” line ever worked?  The Machine’s willing to bet it’s as successful as the “I didn’t realize that was your sister” line.

The Rangers already had a bad taste in their mouth from you based on your 0-4 (with two strikeouts) performance in the wildcard game last season (your last game with Texas).  This just pours salt over the wounds.

Without the Rangers, he’s likely tits up in some seedy motel getting tatted (again) or worse.  We’re hoping he has a solid support system in LA (Dr. Drew’s close by) and stays off the sauce.  We’re also hoping he learns some humility.

Step 1 is denial.  Step 2 is a teabag.

Badge of Badass – Daniela Holmqvist

A new segment in The Machine’s ever expanding bag of tricks, we present to you the Badge of Badass, a/k/a the B.O.B.  What’s a Badge of Badass?  Well, it’s pretty self-explanatory.  While The Machine loves its Tuesday Teabags (and let’s be honest, it’s more fun to make fun of people) there are times when people do extraordinary things and should be duly recognized for their efforts.  So, from time to time, The Machine will hand out BOBs.  Still having trouble figuring out what qualifies for a BOB?  Read on.

The Machine’s inaugural BOB goes to Daniela Holmqvist, a 24 year old Swedish rookie on the LPGA.  Daniela was qualifying for the Australian Open on Tuesday and, while on the fourth hole, gets bit on the ankle by a black widow spider.  Yes, a fucking black widow, which looks like this, and for more fear inducing pictures, click here (The Machine just wet himself a little).

Daniela, with her leg swelling up, does something astonishing, instantly becoming a legend.  Channeling her inner MacGyver, she takes a golf tee, and slices open her leg to drain the poison out.  “A clear fluid came out,” Holmqvist said.  “It wasn’t the prettiest thing I’ve ever done but I had to get as much of it out of me as possible.”  Amazingly, she then finished her round, shooting a 74 and failing to qualify for the Open, but her efforts were by no means a failure.

This is one of the most courageous and fearless acts in all of sport…add in the fact that it’s a young, Swedish, female golfer (we’ve yet to Google image search her yet but are willing to bet she’s blonde and attractive) and this makes it very similar to a reoccurring dream of The Machine (minus the deadly spider bite).

Seriously, our modern day athletes are, by and large, self-absorbed prima donnas.  The days of Ronnie Lott telling the trainer to cut off his finger so he can go back in the game are long gone.  We have athletes complaining of hang nails, getting injured moving boxes and playing Guitar Hero.  Shit, LeBron won’t even play in the dunk competition because he’s too much of a pussy.  But Daniela deserves props for her incredible actions.  She also deserves a sponsorship from Black Widow golf grips and spikes.  Come on guys, that’s a no brainer.

Anyway, congrats Daniela on your BOB, and best of luck on the rest of the season.  You’ve got a new fan in The Machine.

Tuesday Teabag, February 12, 2013 – College Basketball Rankings

There are certain truisms The Machine lives by:  Only good things happen with Coors Light, snitches get stitches, and if she fucks on the first date, don’t marry her.  These well-tested foundational elements of life are true 100% of the time, unlike stereotypes, which are only true 90% of the time.  You can imagine our horror then, when these guarantees fail us.  It shakes us to our core, and causes us to question everything.

Up until last week, The Machine had another truism it swore by:  if you’re the #1 team in the country and lose, you’re no longer the #1 team in the country.  Sounds simple right?

Last week was a crazy week in College Basketball.  4 of the top 5 teams and 6 of the top 10 teams lost.  The Top 5 teams were (in order):  Indiana, Florida, Michigan, Duke, Kansas.  All of them lost, except Duke.  Not only did Indiana lose but they lost to unranked Illinois.

However, imagine our shock/horror/rage, when The Machine opened up Monday’s paper and saw the new top 5:  Indiana, Duke, Miami, Michigan, Gonzaga.  Indiana’s still #1?  How is that possible?  Did they get participation points?  How can you lose (to an unranked team no less) and still be considered the number one team in the country?  And, to make things even more ridiculous, how does Illinois not crack the top 25?  You’re telling me Colorado State, with that thrilling win over (unranked) Nevada, gets to break into the top 25 but not a team that beat #1?  It makes no sense.

These rankings are, to be professional about it, total horseshit.  They’re completely arbitrary, not like that infallible BCS computer ranking system.  Seriously, what purpose do they serve?  They’re no longer a barometer for placement in the NCAA tourney…RPI, BPI, conference tournaments, and Joe Lunardi have taken that over (seriously, he calls himself a Bracketologist).  So what, then?  National pride for your school?  Bragging rights?  Maybe.

Perhaps they do/did serve some purpose, but not anymore.  Being #1 in the country means nothing, other than you’re probably going to lose.  For the past six consecutive weeks, the #1 team lost, and for the first five weeks, that also (logically) meant they lost their #1 ranking.  Two weeks ago, when (then) #1 Michigan lost to (then) #3 Indiana it dropped Michigan to #3 and propelled Indiana to #1.  If losing to the #3 team in the country knocks you out of first place, how does losing to an unranked team not?

We’re either in an unprecedented year of basketball parity, or the people ranking these teams are clueless (“hey, which Big Ten/ACC team you want to make #1 this week?).

Point is, even with parity, if the rankings are to have any meaning, they have to have real consequences and rewards.  Thus, The Machine thinks the following should happen, ASAP:  if the #1 team loses, they automatically drop to (at least) #10, and there they can claw their way back to the top.  Falling to #3, or in Indiana’s case, remaining #1, has no real consequences at all.  Likewise, if you’re unranked and you beat a top 10 team, you’re in the top 25.  This gives hope to teams that pull off a huge upset, like Illinois, who also beat #18 Minnesota last week, yet are still on the outside looking in.

Rankings need to send a message, and that message shouldn’t be the “if you had fun you won” mantra that’s currently being taught to our children and ruining our sports culture (seriously how am I going to bet on my son’s little league games if they don’t keep score)?  By providing real rewards and consequences, the rankings would all of a sudden become relevant again.  The season’s long enough where a team that drops from #1 to #10 can still fight their way back to the top, and by rewarding teams more, it keeps the rankings fluid, allows more teams a chance to get in the top 25, and gives them momentum.

It makes so much sense, that it will never happen.

Tuesday Teabag, February 5, 2013 – Post-Super Bro™ Hangover

Yes, the worst day after the Super Bowl is Tuesday.  Not Monday…Monday you’re too hung over to care and still pissed that you were this close to winning the final numbers on your squares (was that safety really necessary?).  Yup, it’s Tuesday, when you’ve sobered up, stopped burping chicken wings and taco dip, that it hits you:  Football’s over.  It’s a horrible feeling…an empty void that can’t be replaced.  It’s like your favorite pet gets killed every February. 

Not to get too overdramatic, but what do you do with your life now?  Well, for starters, you can focus on other things…like the Draft (80 days and counting).  And, you still have us, and we’re not done with the Super Bro™ yet.  So, because we’re not ready to let go, here’s our analysis of the Super Bro™, Teabag-style.

Jim Harbaugh.  Dammit Jim, The Machine was pulling for you.  We knew the Ravens had that look of destiny to them, eerily reminiscent of last year’s New York Giants…they had an up and down regular season, were beset by injuries, had a quarterback many refused to call elite, and were underdogs throughout the playoffs.  We knew that, yet still picked the Niners to win (although did pick the Ravens ATS) because you had that crazy look to you.  On a scale of 1 to bat shit, you registered a solid bat shit.  So, we thought your bat shit crazy (what real journalists would call passion or tenacity) would trump destiny.  The balls of steel you displayed by starting C-Kap and taking the read option to the next level would be too much for Baltimore to handle.  You were the sexy pick…the Fifty Shades of Gray.  It felt right.  So good.  We wanted more…we needed more…give it to us (splashes cold water on genitals).  Umm…moving on.

So, imagine our disgust when, with the game on the line, first and goal at the 7, you shed your Fifty Shades zipper mask and go straight up missionary style:  First down, run LaMichael James (2 yards), second down, incomplete pass to Crabtree, third down, incomplete pass to Crabtree, fourth down, incomplete pass to Crabtree.  Worst of all:  no pistol formation.  No creativity.  In short:  no crazy.  This can only be chalked up to an epic failure on your part.  Forget the holding call…you lost when you lined up goal line formation.  Your crazy is a fine line:  when you win, you’re lauded as a hard-nosed fighter that coaches with his heart on his sleeve.  When you lose, those same antics turn you in to a whining, sniveling, little brother that runs to tattle tale on big brother and creates excuses why it wasn’t your fault.  Listen up little bro, that loss is on you.

Randy Moss.  The (self-proclaimed) greatest receiver ever had two receptions for 41 yards, no touchdowns, and is now 0-2 in Super Bowls.  FYI, Jerry went 5/77/1 in has last Super Bowl, and is the only player ever to catch a touchdown pass in 4 different Super Bowls. #respectJerry

Ray Lewis.  The Machine wasn’t so much rooting for the Niners as we were rooting against you.  Everything you (read: your PR people) have attempted to achieve in the past dozen years rebuilding your image is bullshit.  Sure, it’s going to get you a cushy network job at ESPN, but at the end of the day, you covered up the murder of two men, have 6 kids with 4 different women (#wrapitup), and allegedly used illegal PEDs.  You can’t hide from deer antler spray gate.  Despite your vehement denials, if it is your voice on tape, you will (finally) be exposed for the fraud you are.  We’ll give you 6 years (one year after you get in the HOF) to publish your tell all book, where you’ll finally come out and bare your soul.

Commercials. As a whole, the commercials sucked.  Despite what the left tells you, the Volkswagen commercial is not racist, it’s just not funny.  Bar Refaeli making out with the 30 year old virgin is weird, and is anyone going to drink Bud Black Crown? (no).  Best commercial goes to Taco Bell and the old people breaking out of the nursing home. 

Beyonce.  Despite what the right tells you, Beyonce nailed the halftime show.  #girlgotgame.  Although The Machine will continue to question the use of fireworks in a dome, her performance was by far the best in a long time.  Hopefully, the geriatric halftime shows of the past few years (Madonna, Paul McCartney, Tom Petty) are over, although The Machine is already starting a campaign for Jovi to play the halftime show next year in Giants stadium.

So there you have it…a collection of Super Bro™ teabags, with the exception of Bey, who we’d actually like to teabag.  But fear not.  Even though football’s over, there’s still plenty of teabags to go around, and we’ll be here to bring ‘em to you.

The Super Bro™ is Here!!!

We’re about an hour away from kickoff of what promises to be an entertaining game.  Anyone sick of the cross-promotional ads yet?  Yes, the Lone Ranger does look that terrible.  Anyway, back to the task at hand.  The Machine’s had a tough time figuring out this one.  The Niners are the hotter team.  Fast, punishing defense and an offense that no one has figured out (yet:  see Year 2 of the Wildcat).  Ginger King questioned the decision to start C-Kap…but obviously that’s paid off (Alex Smith will look great in a Bills uniform next year).  There’s really no way to pick against the Niners, unless….

They’re playing a team of destiny, and right now, the Ravens have the look of a team of destiny.  They’re almost reminiscent of the Giants of last year.  That overtime win at Denver?  Improbable.  Near double-digit underdogs to the Patriots?  No problem.  The Ravens have been counted out of every game this post-season, and not only have the risen up to the challenge, but have done so in convincing fashion.  Joe Flacco is no Trent Dilfer (a sigh of relief to the greater-Baltimore area).  Combine that with solid play on both sides of the ball (and some deer antler spray) and the Ravens have the post-season magic.  They’re 4.5 underdogs in the Super Bro™…exactly where they want to be.

This really does have the makings of a close game.  In that respect, point goes to Baltimore, as David Akers has been anything but consistent for the Niners this year…missing 13 field goals with an extremely poor 69% field goal conversion.

Although lady luck is on the Ravens side, The Machine thinks that, at the end of the day, C-Kap and crew will do just enough to bring home the Lombardi trophy.  Sorry Baltimore, but sometimes destiny isn’t enough (see 18-1).

Plus, The Machine is a younger brother, and nothing gives us more pleasure than sending a big FU to your big brother…and what better way to do that than to beat him in the Super Bro™.  Jim Harbaugh clearly will do anything to win…so look for a trick play or two (fake punt, onside kick).  The Machine would love a never-before seen pistol option fleaflicker.  We’ll call it the Reloader™

If you want a safe bet…bet the under.  The Machine doesn’t see this being a high-scoring affair.  If you really want a good bet, tease the Ravens and the Under.  Money in the bank.

Ok, time to drink and eat a ridiculous amount of pepperoni, cheese, and chili.  Enjoy the Game (and if Beyonce lip syncs at Halftime everything will be ruined).

Niners 24, Ravens 20