Last week, loyal readers of The Machine knew we struggled with naming a Tuesday Teabag.  Well, the goodness that was in the world last week is gone; this week brought us a host of teabag-able people.  An HMT (Honorable Mention Teabag) goes out to the guy who called in the rules violation on Tiger Woods in the Masters.  Seriously?  You just nudged out Canadians on our list of things that annoy us (keep it up and you’ll zoom right past street performers).  

And obviously, an HMT goes out to the a-hole(s) responsible for the Boston Bombing (transitioning to serious for just a moment).  Please note that good will always win, and you will never be able to change our resolve.  The video of people running towards the bombing to help strangers shows our compassion and determination.  The Machine sends its prayers to those affected in Boston, and toasts to the eventual capture of the bomber(s).  Anyway, on to our teabags. 

Tyrann Mathieu

Tyrann is in the process of the biggest job interview ever, as the NFL Draft is a mere 9 days away.  Known as the Honey Badger, Tyrann was on top of the world at the end of the 2011 season.  He won the Chuck Bednarik Award (given to the best defensive player in college football) and was a Heisman Trophy finalist.  Then, it all went up in smoke. 

He was kicked off the team in August, 2012 just before the season was to begin, allegedly for failing multiple drug tests.  Confirming those allegations, Tyrann was then arrested in October for possession of marijuana.  He’s since spent the last 6 months rehabilitating his image (read: hired an agent and PR team to convince people he’s a changed man).  And, for the most part, it’s working.  Scouts have him ranked as early as the second round (still a ways away from a Top 5 pick he could’ve been).

So, it came as a surprise when he recently acknowledged that he “stopped counting after 10” when asked how many drug tests he failed at LSU.  First, make no mistake about it:  The Machine wants to party with Tyrann Mathieu.  Put The Machine together with Tyrann, it doesn’t matter where—it can be on Bourbon Street, an Applebee’s in Middle America, or any place with a karaoke machine, and It. Would. Be. Epic.  But come on, Tyrann…you’re this close to convincing people you’ve truly changed, and that handing you millions of dollars will in no way result in you buying trash bags full of government-grade herb (wink).  Write this next sentence down as the response to any question asked of you between now and April 25:  I’m not focused on the past; I’m looking forward to the future.  Drawing more attention to your checkered past is not the way to go, unless you’re looking to fall further down the draft board.

Carlos Quentin

In case you’ve been too caught up in your Draft Board to notice (guilty as charged) the baseball season has started.  Don’t worry, in just five short months baseball will become relevant.  Hang in there.  Until then, its usefulness will be relegated to the occasional teabag, which brings us to our friend Carlos.

Carlos got hit by a pitch from Zach Greinke last week.  Feeling the pitch was intentional, Quentin charged the mound, which (always) results in a bench clearing brawl.  The aftermath:  Greinke breaks his collarbone and is out for at least two months.  Now, a bench clearing brawl, by itself, is not necessarily a teabag-able offense.  Sometimes, it’s justified, and sometimes it’s memorable (The Machine doesn’t care if Robin Ventura goes on to become President of the United States, he’ll always be remembered in our mind as the kid that got his ass beat by old man Nolan Ryan).  In Carlos’ case, his actions were completely out of line.

For starters, it was a 3-2 count, in the sixth inning of a one run game.  For all the (stupid) unwritten rules there are in baseball, not one of them says this is the right time to hit a batter.  Clearly, it was not intentional.  Carlos claimed that he and Zach have a history, and he’s right:  this was the third time that Greinke’s hit him.  But here’s another stat:  everyone hits Carlos Quentin.  He led the NL last year in getting hit, and the year before that he led the AL.  The average MLB player gets hit 0.9% of the time.  Carlos?  4.1%.  That’s right, Carlos gets hit more than four times the average player.

So what does that tell you?  Either (a) every pitcher has it in for Carlos Quentin or (b) Carlos crowds the plate.  Look, getting hit by a pitch sucks, but you should be used to it by now.  Here’s a tip from The Machine:  if you want to stop getting hit, move back in the batter’s box.  You intentionally crowd the plate to take away the inside pitch, but clearly that hasn’t stopped people from pitching inside.  If you’re not going to change the way you stand in the batter’s box, then it should be no surprise that you’re on your way to leading the NL in getting hit again. 

The Machine has two words for you Carlos:  situational baseball.  Your charging the mound was completely unjustified.  If MLB had a set, they’d suspend you for as long as it takes for Greinke to pitch again.  Instead, you get off easy with an 8 game suspension.  That, and a teabag.

Enjoy your teabags fellas.

Admittedly, it’s a slow week for teabags.  No significant arrests or other acts of tomfoolery to note.  In fact, the sports world has been pretty good natured and caring this week.  Louisville’s NCAA Championship, drawing inspiration from Kevin Ware?  Great storyline and impressive display of resolve by the Cardinals.  That video of Jack Hoffman, the 7 year old cancer patient who scored a touchdown during the Nebraska Cornhusker spring practice?  Downright heartwarming (see, The Machine has a sensitive side).  But fear not:  like a free lunch, there’s no such thing as a week free of teabags, and when in doubt, look for a famous athlete’s intra-family squabble.

That’s right, this week’s teabag focuses on the family of Johnny Unitas, and the making of the upcoming “hit” movie, Unitas We Stand (for horrible clichés).  Without knowing anything more about this movie, The Machine knows this has “straight to DVD” written all over it.  Sure, Johnny Unitas was a great player, an icon for his era, and the 1958 NFL Championship game against the Giants has been called the greatest game of all time.  But I’m going to need a little more than that.  Don’t get us wrong.  Johnny Unitas is a legend, but if you’re going to make a (successful) nonfiction movie about sports that occurred before 1980, there needs to be drama, Gene Hackman, or Will Smith.  Hoosiers.  Raging Bull.  Ali.  Now those are compelling sports stories (add 42 to that list too because that fits the mold as well).  Sorry, but we’re just not feeling it here, and we love sports movies (still waiting for Mighty Ducks 4).

But the snoozefest and inevitable Razzie award winner that this movie’s about to be isn’t the real story.  The real story involves the Unitas family itself.  Apparently, Johnny Unitas was as proficient off the field as he was on it…siring 8 kids via two marriages (Johnny just upped his street cred).  And this is where it gets good.  A fight is brewing between the children of Unitas’ first marriage (Original Recipe Unitas) and the children of his second marriage (Extra Crispy Unitas).  And it centers around who will play the coveted role of Johnny U.

You see, Joe Unitas (Extra Crispy Unitas) casted Joe Flacco to play the part of his dad.  This did not sit well with John Unitas Jr. (Original Recipe Unitas), who called Flacco a “goofball” and not worthy of playing the role.  Choosing Flacco “is a joke” claimed John Unitas Jr., who argued that the part should have gone to Peyton Manning.  J.C. Unitas, an Original Recipe grandchild, took his argument to Facebook, calling Flacco an “embarrassing choice.”  Also, Unitas’ second wife, Sandra, unsuccessfully sued John Unitas Jr. over control of Unitas Management Corp., which controls the rights to Johnny Unitas’ name.  Now who doesn’t want to be at that Thanksgiving dinner table?

So who’s right?  Well, Peyton is clearly more Unitas-like.  An iconic figure and living legend, he played for the Colts (Johnny’s team), broke all of Unitas’ team passing records, will go down as one of the best to ever play, and is camera friendly (is there a commercial he’s not in?).  But Flacco’s no slouch.  He’s the current “it” quarterback:  Superbowl MVP, plays for Baltimore (Johnny’s city), and (for now) is the highest paid QB in the game.  Flacco’s knock, despite just winning the Superbowl, is that he’s not one of the greats (he’s not even Top 5 of current QBs, let alone of all time). 

The Machine’s no movie critic (we thought Beer League got snubbed) but we got a suggestion:  hire a real actor.  That’s their job.  Sure, Peyton’s no stranger to the camera, that dude can sell Papa John’s pizzas like no one else, and he killed it on SNL, but does he have the chops to act on the big screen?  And Flacco, what does he know about playing like an elite quarterback?  Kind of like asking Octomom for parenting advice.  That would be one hell of an acting job on his part.

Seriously, could there be a more first world problem:  which superstar NFL quarterback gets to play my dad?  And while The Machine prefers to watch family dramas unfold via Maury (the results are in…you ARE the father) these classy folks will forego daytime television and go straight to the courtroom.  Ironic, because if this movie ever gets made, that’s exactly where it’s going.  We’re guessing Original Recipe Unitas files an injunction against Extra Crispy Unitas to block the release of the film, thus dragging this fight out for years. 

Bottom line:  nothing says “I love you dad” more than publicly tarnishing the family name. 

Enjoy your teabag.

By now, I’m sure you know the story.  Rutgers has suspended (read: will fire soon) head basketball coach Mike Rice for a series of verbal and physical attacks on his current/former players.  Shockingly, there is a wealth of video evidence corroborating this.  Not only does he physically assault players by pushing and throwing things at them, but he also slings an impressive amount of vulgarity at them (even The Machine cringed at some of those words).  More than just vulgarity (who doesn’t like to drop f-bombs at the office?) his verbal attacks are simply degrading and homophobic.  There is no excuse for his actions.  There’s also no excuse for the actions of his (soon to be sued) employer, Rutgers University.

Back in July, then Director of Player Development Eric Murdoch informed (soon to be former) Rutgers Athletic Director Tim Pernetti of Rice’s actions, and how 3 players have left the team based on his outrageous conduct.  The AD kindly responded by (according to Murdoch) firing him.  Rutgers claimed they simply decided not to renew his contract.  The Machine’s no attorney (actually, we are) so characterize it however you want, but the temporal proximity to Murdoch informing his employer and his employer firing/not renewing his contract raises some serious eyebrows.  The Machine can smell a wrongful termination action.

Despite this knowledge, Rutgers allowed Rice to continue coaching, and it wasn’t until December when he was suspended for 3 games and fined $50k for “inappropriate behavior and language.”  That’s kind of like saying Kevin Ware suffered a minor leg injury last week (it’s just a flesh wound). 

Anyway, as late March, the AD was staunchly in Rice’s corner.  Quote, “[o]f course he’s coming back.”  The Machine’s not sure why Pernetti is showing such loyalty to Rice, but it’s likely one of his last decisions as AD.

Bottom line:  Rutgers has no choice but to fire Rice [update: Obviously Rutgers University is a reader of The Machine because, minutes after posting, Rice’s status has been updated to fired].  They also have no choice but to fire Pernetti too.  In the face of such damning evidence, merely calling such conduct “inappropriate” and dismissing his antics as that of an intense coach is a gross misrepresentation.  That, coupled with firing/not renewing the contract of the individual that brought this to your attention, reeks of a coverup, and exposes your employer to legal liability.  If those aren’t grounds for termination, then The Machine would like to apply for any job at Rutgers. 

What makes Rice’s conduct even more stupid (if that’s possible) is that he must’ve known his practices were being recorded.  This ain’t the 1980’s (or even the 90’s) where maybe there’s one grainy video lying around or a still shot.  We live in the land of social media.  Of course your practices are recorded.  Knowing this sends the message that he thought his conduct was within the bounds of acceptable behavior.

Which brings The Machine to another point.  There are those in the media who want to draw similarities between Mike Rice and Bob Knight.  In fact, this morning, The Machine exchanged twitter barbs with a Yahoo! sportswriter on this very topic.  In their minds, employing their best SAT logic skills, Bobby Knight was hard on his players, Mike Rice was hard on his players, ergo, Bobby Knight and Mike Rice are the same.  This is simply unfounded, and nothing more than the type of surface level analysis that fills The Machine with rage.

Let’s be clear:  we’re not excusing Knight’s behavior.  Clearly, he’s no choir boy.  He was over the line when he put his hands on Neil Reed (sensationalistic journalists call it choking), and there’s also game tape footage of him yelling at his players…even his own son.  But yelling at your players as a way to motivate is substantially and fundamentally different then humiliating and degrading your players for the fun of it.  Bobby Knight coached passionately, used vulgarity quite liberally, but there was a bigger purpose behind his words.  He wasn’t doing it to degrade his players, he was doing it to motivate and get the most out of his players.  The same cannot be said for Rice.  There’s no way his actions can be perceived as motivation. 

Sure, Bobby Knight probably called his players assholes, and even watching him on ESPN now, you can tell he’s pretty ornery and mean.  But being mean is not the same as being degrading and humiliating.  It’s just not.  Coaches are never going to be emotionless, politically correct people that don’t keep score and end every practice with hugs.  Coaches (in any sport) will ride their players to get the most out of them.  Every coach coaches through fear.  Some more than others.  It’s a fine line.  Bobby Knight walked that line (sort of), Mike Rice wasn’t even close to the line.

Need more proof:  Knight’s players, by and large, are fiercely loyal to him, and credit him with turning them into more than just players.  Just look at quotes from former players like Quinn Buckner and Isiah Thomas.  Also, Knight is the ultimate teacher of the game.  Just ask Coach K.  Have you seen any fiercely supportive statements by former players of Mike Rice?  Not so much.  Instead, you’ve seen a laundry list of players that have left the program during Rice’s (largely unsuccessful) 3 years at Rutgers. 

And if you need more proof that Bobby Knight, in his heart of hearts, is a good and honest man who loves his players, read this.  Bobby Knight doesn’t defend his conduct because he doesn’t give a shit what you think.  That may make him mean, but it doesn’t make him Mike Rice.

Anyway, the real focus here is on Mike Rice, Tim Pernetti, and Rutgers.  When the full story unravels, it will seem amazing that he lasted 3 years.  Sure, he’ll probably get another chance to coach in a couple years, after going through anger management counseling and we’re guessing a TV interview next to his wife talking about how he found God and is a new man.  Until then (and probably even after then), he and Tim Pernetti are well deserving of this award.

 Enjoy your teabag.