In Produce We Trust

Francisco Cordero recently signed a four-year, $46 million deal to be the Reds closer.

Most Reds fans in this city were surprised and stunned when they heard the news. They couldn't believe the Reds were the ones ponying up the big bucks to swipe a big free agent from other teams. Plus, they were spending the loot wisely for once.

This was a banner day in the recent history of the Reds. This was a clear message to their fans that the Reds, and owner Bob Castellini, were willing to spend money if they felt there was a player that would make a significant difference in the performance of the team.

It was the dawning of a new day down at Great American.

But this is one Queen City resident who wasn't surprised at all. Nope. Not in the least.

Why? Because I read between the lines and saw the one common bond between the Reds and Cordero. A bond that no other owner or organization in the big leagues would have with Cordero.

Produce.

That's right. Produce.

Bob Castellini has made his millions (billions?) in produce and food distribution. So it would only be right that he would jump at the chance to do whatever it takes to acquire a man that goes by the nickname of "Coco" (as in bean, powder and Puffs the cereal).

In a further thread of symbiosis, the man representing Coco, and the one in most direct contact with Castellini, was named Bean (as in green, lima and pinto).

That's right. Coco Cordero's agent goes by the name Bean Stringfellow. It was a match made in Food Network heaven.

So the next time you are in the produce section of your local grocery story, ask yourself if you see any connections between the fruits and vegetables before you and 2008 MLB Free Agents.

If so, you may have spotted the next big free agent splash by the Reds.

Long Live Coco, Bean and the Produce King!

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend

You know the one I'm talking about.

You went out with her for awhile. You had fun. Then when you realized you were done with her, and it was going nowhere, you landed the "I need a little space" blast, and dropped her like a hot potato.

But she can't let go.

She calls your cell like 50 times a day. She leaves rambling, erratic, and increasingly angry messages on your voicemail. She loads up your e-mail with crazy messages of "love" and "we were meant for each other", followed by links to love song lyrics. Then you come home from work one day and she's in your house with your pet rabbit boiling on the stove.

Okay. So maybe not the last one.

But I bring this up because we are not even a week into the college basketball season, and I'm already noticing a disturbing trend: UC Basketball fans are the crazy ex-girlfriend of the college basketball landscape.

Granted, Mick Cronin hasn't really helped his cause by starting this season 1-2, but I'm already hearing Mick has to go, Bob Huggins should have never been fired comments.

For the mental health of the Queen City: LET HIM GO!

Granted, Bobby H. got a raw deal from Devil Z, and the whole situation was the messiest divorce around. But for better or worse, it was a divorce. And just like all messy divorces, there is no hope for rekindling the flame.

Continuing to call local sportstalk radio (and you still do because not only do I hear them, but our local sportstalk guru, Mr. McAllister, saw fit to post a little article on the matter in his blog recently), still pining for Huggy Bear is just like the crazy ex leaving messages of love.

I thought that after the first year he was away (always the hardest in a divorce), when all the crazy alum bought K-State gear to wear to the UC games, things would calm down. But they haven't. In fact, they've gotten worse.

I opened up the Enquirer's regional basketball insert a few weeks ago to find that there was a section covering West Virginia, where the Hugster is now coaching. And you are even hassling the media accusing them of giving Cronin a "free pass" from criticism.

Well, you know what? They are. You know what else? Cronin deserves to get that pass right now. So shut up.

Even if you run Cronin out of town, your divorced coach won't be coming back. Devil Z won't allow it.

So if you need to get into a 12-step program to cope, do it. If you need to watch old tapes from the Huggins days, do it (I hear the one where he was driving drunk is a real hoot). But wherever you get help, just get help, because if you don't, then this program won't be given the chance to excel that the players rightly deserve.

Huggins isn't coming back. Period. Continuing to pine for him only makes you the crazy ex-girlfriend.

The players deserve better than that.

A Sight To Behold

The mountain of humanity stood outside the small doorway. More beef than a Texas cattle ranch trying to squeeze into a space that most regular sized men would have trouble fitting through.

Cameras were at the ready, videotape was rolling, cell phones were recording as well, as they all wanted a souvenir of this moment, for posterity's sake of course.


What could it be that fascinated these men so? A superstar in there midst? A spiritual phenomenon maybe?


No. It was simple a regular sized, 6-foot, 200 lb., human being sitting reading a magazine. Mouseish by their standards. But it was where he was sitting that made this moment miraculous.

He sat at the edge of the training room whirlpool with his right leg immersed into the hot, relaxing water.

"This can't be happening", muttered one of the behemoths of the Sunday trenches. "This is a sanctuary reserved for those of us who beat, bang, and bruise ourselves to earn a buck every week."

Did this scene occur in a J.R.R. Tolkien novel? No. It was simply the scene in the visitors' training room at MT&T Bank Stadium in Baltimore, where the place kicker for the victorious Bengals sat resting is his right boot.

If you had kicked a franchise record tying 7 field goals, and accounted for all of your team's 21 points, wouldn't your foot need a little treatment too?

Let's be honest. He was the only Bengal on Sunday who deserved it.

Still Voting Kelly for Prez

Nobody handles adversity, nobody straps the boots up tighter, nobody circles the wagons when things are not going right like Brian Kelly.

Okay. Well maybe Eisenhower. Greatest general of WWII. Helped win the war. Became president. Yeah, he might be better.

But Brian Kelly is still getting my vote for President.

After losing two games in row to Louisville (somewhat understandable) and Pitt (no at all understandable), Kelly did something that most coaches, and our president alike, are reluctant to do: He made immediate changes.

Kelly replaced running back Butler Benton with Jacob Ramsey, and he replaced offensive lineman Marty Gilyard as well.

Why? Let's let my write-in candidate tell you himself:

"Too many mistakes. Those guys are great kids and have worked hard. We have to change some things. You can't continue to say 'great effort.' If you make mistakes and continue to make them, they have to know they're not going to be on the field It's not anything else other than production or lack thereof."

Tremendous.

Can you imagine if our current president had handled the Hurricane Katrina situation this way? Instead of endless sound bites where our fearless leader patted the Horse Head (aka Mike Brown) on the back and shouted, "You're doing a heck of job, Brownie. Heck of a job", all the while ignoring the obvious mistakes, we would have been treated to a television conference where Brown would've been fired.

The American people would've immediately been told the reason for his firing was because "Brownie" made too many mistakes. He would have announced the former Secretary of State Colin Powell was being named to replace him, along with turning full control of the National Guard over to Powell to command as he saw fit. Kelly then would have announced that all funds, and any other government assistance needed, would be made immediately available to the people of New Orleans, and that he, President Kelly (nice ring to it), would be going to work on getting the legislation necessary to rebuild the New Orleans levees in the correct and updated manner.

Then he would announce that the New Orleans Saints would never leave the city, and the first game back in the Superdome would be free to all residents.

Hey, he's still a football coach at heart.

The Rumors Are True

One of the greatest things about being a sports addict here in the Queen City is all the opportunities to write, discuss, kvetch, and just flat-out argue about rumors that pop up like weeds regarding our sports franchises.

But while listening to yet another endless discussion on the effect of Ocho Cinco, I had an epiphany: What if there were no rumors? What if all the rumors were truth?

What would the 'Nati sports landscape look like if every time that some wild rumor was discussed, it happened? No matter how "out there" it may be, it came to pass.

Here's what we would have folks (and the inevitable ramifications):

REDS

Adam Dunn would have been traded to the California...uh, Anaheim...uh, Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim back in July, for a pitching version of Ken Griffey, Jr. (a.k.a. Bartolo Colon) and some draft picks. The Reds would've been forced to finish the 2007 season with an outfield of Josh Hamilton in CF, Norris Hopper in LF, & the original Ken Griffey, Jr. in RF. Griff suffers his every-year-inevitable injury. The last few weeks he's replaced by a platoon of Buck Coats/Jason Ellison/a bag of balls and a six-pack of beer. Basically, it has no affect on the actual outcome of the 2007 season.

The hole left in LF by the Dunn trade is easily rectified in the off season. New manager Dusty Baker convinces management to spend some of the money saved by getting rid of Dunn's contract on Barry Bonds. He is installed as the every day left fielder, instantly making the Reds the worst defensive outfield in baseball. The Reds are forced to keep every other available outfielder, plus former catcher Javier Valentin on the roster to rotate in CF. Not because of poor hitting, but because they have to have a fresh set of legs in CF to shag down flies anywhere in the ballpark, considering that there are two Fathead-like posters in both LF and RF.

The Reds end the 2008 season with the longest DL list in the history of baseball, as all that tried CF went down with leg injuries, along with Bonds (knee injury) and Griffey, Jr. (pick a body part). The only thing left is the bag of balls and six pack of beer that ended the 2007 in RF.

Griffey, Jr. of the mound, Bartolo Colon, pitches two games, gets shelled, pulls a muscle and isn't heard from for a month. He returns, pitches one game, hurts rotator cuff, isn't heard from for two months. After rest, he returns again--fifty pounds heavier from the recovery buffet and no exercise, throws 4 innings, his arm detaches from his elbow and lands in the lap of a perfectly nice old lady in the third row. She has a heart attack and dies. Headline in the Enquirer the next morning reads: Long Arm of Bartolo Strikes Again!

(In a related story: Homer Bailey also loses his arm, as Baker forces him to pitch 2,000 innings because Baker doesn't trust his bullpen.)

Only highlight is that the money saved from Dunn's traded contract and both Bonds and Griffey, Jr.'s expiring contracts, the Reds trade bag of balls and a six-pack of beer (who had a breakout season), for Johann Santana. (Alright, alright. This isn't an actual rumor that is going around. But I'm starting now myself in hopes that 2009 will be brighter.)

BENGALS

Ocho Cinco is traded to division rival Baltimore for a load of draft picks. Chris Henry can't completely fill the void left by Cinco. T.J. Housmandzadeh is double-teamed from that point on. His production slows to a crawl, and he is finally put on IR after an injury suffered in a double team, sandwich-style hit at the hands of the Steelers. Needless to say, the wide receiving corps suffers.

The linebackers and defense still suck (Hey! Ocho has never had anything to do with that.) The Bengals don't make the playoffs again.

Marvin Lewis' hot seat burns too hot and he is fired. But since PBS still sells out no matter what, Mike Brown decides to revert to his old ways. He rehires old favorite Bruce Coslett, jacks ticket prices up another 10% for 2008, uses the draft picks they received in the trade for Ocho Cinco to select untalented schmos from colleges that no one has heard of, then lowballs them on contract offers. Not one of them gets signed.

Carson says "screw it" and walks away from football altogether. He's last heard to be a firefighter in San Diego becoming a hero by putting out forest fires.

Akili Smith is signed as free agent to be starting quarterback.

BEARCAT FOOTBALL

New Bearcat coach Brian Kelly reinvigorates the city, and the alumni, by bringing a fierce energy and pride not seen by Bearcat fans in ages. He begins the 2007 season with a perfect 6-0 record. That's when Michigan comes calling, looking for replacement for embattled (and retiring) Lloyd Carr.

In an under-the-cover-of-darkness-Colts-moving-out-of-Baltimore-to-Indianapolis type maneuver, Kelly packs up his family and breaks out for Ann Arbor. It leaves the football program without a head figure for the first time in its history.

The rest of the 2007 season is cancelled. This gives President Nancy Zimpher the opening she has always longed for. She dismantles the football program entirely, citing the financial strains it puts on the university, and that the money formerly spent on the football program will now be spent to further the completely unintelligible UC21 plan.

She makes history for being the first university president to run out of town the beloved, legendary basketball coach and dismantle an entire sports program in the first three years of her tenure. Congrats.

XAVIER

They still don't have football. (And no, I'm not starting that one!)

Bengals Brawl I (The Main Event)

As promised, an entire post devoted to the main event....

Main Event: World Heavyweight Championship Title Match
Champion Chad The Champ Johnson v. Challenger Golden Boy Carson Palmer (w/special guest referee Marvelous Marvin Lewis)
Special Qualification: End Zone Celebration Match (inside the Cage of Killing Team Chemistry)

Recap: For a much hyped main event, this one got off to a slow start. The ominous steel contraption was lowered over the North end zone of PBS. The two combatants entered (The Champ having to take a few moments while he took off his HOF 20?? coat and handed it to the Ben-Gal cheerleader he had proposed to last season), and were locked in by special referee Marvelous Marvin.

The bell rang, but it seemed that in that moment the gravity of the situation hit both fighters. This wasn't just for the World Championship belt, it was for the leadership of the Bengals team.

Both men spent the early moments feeling each other out--not wanting to try an early high-risk maneuver that could backfire and put them in an early hole.

Finally they hooked-up and the action got going. The two men locked hands in a test of strength. Golden Boy quickly brought The Champ to his knees. But Champ fought back and as he got back to his feet, used an illegal kick to Golden Boy's "man region" to break the hold and gain the advantage.

Champ used a few more well-placed stomps to keep Golden Boy on the canvas. Then picked up Golden Boy and used the cold-hard steel of the cage as a cheese grater on Golden Boy's face.

As Golden Boy laid bleeding on the mat, The Champ made his first attempt to put away the match.

Due to the recent losing streak of the Bengals however, The Champ was rusty on his end zone celebrations. His first attempt was quite pathetic. We here at BWE (Bengals Wrestling Entertainment) still aren't sure what he was doing. We think it involved some sort of ode to Tiger Woods, using a corner pylon.

The Champ was booed fanatically. Marvelous Marvin gave Chad 0 points for the terrible effort. Needing 3 end zone celebration points to have Marvelous Marvin unlock the cage, and allow the winner to walk out, The Champ was furious at a 0.

While The Champ was stomping around the ring, arguing with Marvelous Marvin, Golden Boy took the opening to gain an upper hand.

He grabbed The Champ from behind an repaid him for the earlier groin kick with one of his own. While The Champ was on his knees, Golden Boy went to the top rope and landed his patented Touchdown Bomb Elbow move.

Golden Boy then tried to finish the match with an end zone celebration of his own.

Seeing as Golden Boy almost always throws the ball to others in the end zone, he had never really been there himself. He suddenly realized he didn't have a end zone celebration. He tried making one up on the spot.

He attempt a running chest bump. But seeing as there were no other teammates to bump with, he just ended up bouncing harmlessly off the cage.

He then had the idea to do the classic QB football flip to the ref (a certain 3 pts. from a low-key guy like Marvelous Marvin). However, he couldn't find a football.

While he scrambled desperately for a ball, a recovered Champ struck. As Golden Boy crawled on his hands and knees searching for a ball, Champ hit him with the Satirical Lambeau Leap Cross Body move (like the one he employed in Week 2 against the Dawg Pound fans in Cleveland), leaving Golden Boy lying helplessly on the mat.

Champ immediately jumped up and went for his second attempt to end the match: The Riverdance Celebration.

But before Marvelous Marvin could raise the 3 pt. card and begin unlocking the cage, Kelly The Killer Washington (who had been sitting in the front row seeing as he's always inactive in New England and had time to kill), jumped over the guard rail and knocked out Marvelous Marvin with a cheap shot from behind. He grabbed the keys to the cage and entered looking for a piece of The Champ.

Never one to back down from a challenge, The Champ was happy to divert his attention from Golden Boy. Before he could get his hands on Killer however, Washington threw a handful of sand into Champ's face. Killer then went to the center of the end zone and began showing the audience what he called the only "true" end zone celebration dance: The Squirrel.

The fans became irate, a recovered Marvelous Marvin stood there laughing nervously in a moment where he shouldn't be laughing at all (a patented Marvelous Marvin trait), and Golden Boy stood at one end and watched while all the madness surrounded him.

Getting all the sand out of his eyes, The Champ attacked Killer from behind. He nailed Killer with the All-Out Leaping Head-Butt, then began the Riverdance celebration right on Killer's head.

While all this was going on, Golden Boy realized that the door to the cage was open. He quietly slipped through it, then raised his hands in victory. But Golden Boy had not gained the 3 pts. for end zone celebrations required to be let out of the cage of chemistry killing.

The Champ, finishing his Riverdance beating of Washington, took notice at that point, and began his complaints.

Marvelous Marvin looked around helplessly, providing no real explanation, and continuing to laugh nervously in inappropriate moments.

Bengals Brawl I ended with all three men staring intently at each other. The match was declared a draw, and the belt, along with the leadership of the team, was put in limbo, leaving all of Bengal Nation to wonder:

Who really is the leader of the team?

Bengal Brawl I (Part Dos)

Recapping the Title Matches....

Tag Team Title Match: Champions Robert "Jumpy" Geathers/The Big Samoan Domata Peko v. Challengers Rudi "Hamstring" Johnson/Kenny "The Snake" Watson
Special Qualification: Tables, Ladders, & Chairs match

Recap: This one was a classic matchup of size and strength versus speed and agility. The challengers, Hamstring & The Snake, came out like a house afire. They jumped the champs early before the champs had a chance to even make it to the ring--taking the fight right to the champs. The challengers acheived a distinct advantage after playing some Con-chairto on both The Big Samoan and Jumpy. But the momentum turned when Hamstring set up a ladder and went for a tremendous flying dropkick on The Big Samoan, only to pull his hamstring (what else?) upon contacting the Big Samoan. The Snake tried to come to the rescue of his partner but was intercepted by Jumpy who put a defensive end belly-to-belly suplex on Snake. Jumpy then "jumped" to his other position, and put the linebacker spear on Snake. After the champs returned the favor by playing con-chairto on the challengers, they pulled the lifeless challengers back to the ring. Setting up tables in the corners of the ring, they prepared to put the challengers out of their misery with spears through the tables. But suddenly The Evil Genius Chuck Bresnahan's music began to play, and the Evil Genius himself made his way to the ring with a playbook in hand. Using the playbook, he convinced the champs that the spear through the tables was not the way to finish the challengers off. Instead, he convinced the champs to utilize the splash move off the ladders. Unfortunately, as the champs each jumped off their respective ladders, the challengers rolled away at the last moment. To add insult to injury, the challengers threw down the ladders on top of the champs' heads as they lay motionless on the canvas. The champs never recovered as both Snake and Hamstring got the three count. As the new champions exited, Evil Genius dressed down the champs for not executing the gameplan appropriately. This infuriated the now-former champs, who both choke-slammed Evil Genius Bresnahan, The Big Samoan applied the tombstone piledriver, then both repeatedly took turns laying chair shots to Bresnahan's cabeza. This now explains why every defensive scheme for the last five weeks from the Bengals has looked like it came from a mentally disabled human being. It has. Evil Genius Bresnahan is.
Winner: Hamstring Johnson/The Snake Watson (New Champions) Hamstring out for next several weeks' worth of matches due to pulled hammy in this match.

Intercontinental Title Match: Champion Touchdown T.J. Houshmanzadeh v. Challenger The Lawbreaker Odell Thurman (w/special guest referee Commissioner Roger Goodell)
Special Qualification: No DQ Street Fight Match

Recap: This was a wild one! The two contenders battled all over PBS (Paul Brown Stadium). They went into the back tunnels of the stadium where Lawbreaker severely beat Touchdown T.J. with pipes that had been stacked in the alleyway. Touchdown T.J. fought back as they stumbled out into the concourse area, by using the dreaded Rumpke trash dumpster to his liking--smashing Lawbreaker's hands in the top repeatedly. Having no real authority for the first time in his short tenure as Commissioner, special guest referee Goodell followed the participants and cell phoned uniform violations to the head office in NYC. The match then spilled out into the endzone area. This area of the field being like a second home to Touchdown T.J., and Lawbreaker having no remembrance of what the endzone is, Touchdown took control of the match. Using a host of high-risk aerial moves (dropkicks, a shooting star press off the goal post crossbar, and even a flying body drop), Touchdown had Lawbreaker right where he wanted him in order to administer his finishing move: The Tornado Pony-Tail Twist. But Lawbreaker somehow avoided the Twist and countered with a cranium buster. He then pressed Touchdown T.J. high into the air and applied his own finishing move: The Illegal Breathalyzer. Commissioner Goodell immediately stepped in and announced that although the match was a no disqualification match, Lawbreaker had broken his contract to be reinstated by the BWE (Bengals Wrestling Entertainment), that was stipulated from his earlier suspension last year. Goodell immediately ripped up Lawbreakers contract, suspending him for another year, and since he was at that point no longer a BWE wrestler, Touchdown T.J. was awarded the victory and became the new Intercontinental Title Champion.
Winner: Touchdown T.J. Houshmanzadeh (New Champion)

Tomorrow, an entire post devoted to the epic World Heavyweight Championship Match between Chad "The Champ" Johnson and Golden Boy Carson Palmer.

Bengals Brawl I

Inspired by Chester Taylor and Erasmus James' exploits in the Vikings locker room last week, the Bengals devised a way to air out their chemistry issues.

BENGALS BRAWL I
Location: Paul Brown Stadium

UNDERCARD

Match 1: Big Willie Anderson v. Levi "Let 'em By" Jones in a Body Slam Match
Review: As Let 'em By stood in the ring at the 50-yard line of PBS, Big Willie's entrance music began to play. But no Big Willie. The music replayed. Still no Willie. Finally after replaying the music five times, Big Willie appeared. But what's this? He has an air cast on his ankle and he is limping to the ring. It is revealed that Big Willie has disappeared to have a "procedure" done on his ankle in Atlanta. The "procedure" is never explained, but after discussing it with referee Chris Henry, who earlier in the day was notified by Comissioner Goodell that he could participate in team activities, just not matches until Bengals Bash VIII, it was deemed that the procedure is legal and the match is to occur. The bell rings and the agony begins. For what seems like days, Big Willie limps around the ring attempting to grab Let 'em By, but can't get a hold of him as Let 'em By is constantly employing his patented matador blocking technique (see Chiefs game for example). Suddenly, referee Henry trips Let 'em By allowing Big Willie to apply a giant splash move the renders Let 'em By useless. Big Willie picks up Let 'em By off the canvas and applies the giant body slam. Big Willie celebrates by leaning down and pulling a lifetime card for free burgers at his burger joint out of his air cast and paying off referee Henry for his services.
Winner: Big Willie Anderson

Match 2: Chris "The Crippled" Perry v. The Rook Kenny Irons in a Loser Goes on IR Match
Review: This was a brutal match between two up-and-coming stars of the BWE (Bengals Wrestling Entertainment). After getting off to slow starts, the pace began to pick up, eventually spilling out of the ring onto the field turf. Once on the turf, both men began slugging it out--trading vicious punches. Suddenly, The Crippled one took off in a 40-yard dash contest. The Rook, not to be outdone, took off after Crippled. The Rook, being younger and faster because he had never suffered an injury, caught Crippled 20 yards into the dash. He immediately applied the ankle lock to Crippled. But just as Crippled was about to tap out, The Rook made what can only be described as a rookie mistake. Referee Henry (hey! What else has he got to do) began counting out the participants, but was slow in the count seeing as he was using only one hand to count with because he was using his other hand to eat his burger from Big Willie's burger joint. Not wanting to be counted out, The Rook voluntarily let go of the ankle lock and returned to the ring, where he waited for Crippled to be counted out. But Crippled, being the veteran, mustered the courage to limp back the ring where the match continued. While The Rook had his back turned, Crippled snuck into the ring and grabbed The Rook from behind where he applied the Figure Four leg lock. The Rook hung on for as long as he could, but eventually tapped out under the excruciating pain.
Winner: Chris "The Crippled" Perry (suffered broken ankle from ankle lock, only on PUP)
Loser: The Rook Kenny Irons (suffered destroyed ACL from Figure Four, has to go on IR)



Main Event Title Matches Recapped Tomorrow....

Coach Kelly for President

Fall has finally arrived here in the Queen City--and rather abruptly from the feel of the weather.

Seeing as 2008 is an election year, this Fall means that the Presidential candidates are kicking their campaigns into high gear. After flipping through channels yesterday, and running across yet another insufferable debate (how many of those are there going to be anyhow?), I realized that I haven't even thought about the candidates.

So I asked myself this question: "Self, what do we think of these candidates?"

I immediately eliminated the ones I had never heard of in my life. If you are running for President and I haven't heard of you by now, you are either: a) doing a horrible job of campaigning or b) some type of weirdo looking for publicity (hello Ralph Nader). Either way, I'm not voting for you.

I still have no idea what Obama stands for, and what his plans for the U.S. are. However, if it involves Obama Girl from the YouTube clips, count me in. I don't care what they may be. Edwards has somehow managed to go from Vice Presidential candidate to completely irrelevant in a matter of one election cycle. Not easy to do. And the thought of voting for Hillary Clinton, and the baggage that comes with it, just made me puke a little in my mouth.

As for the other side. McCain doesn't seem to want to do anything but name--and then rename--the bus that he rides around in. Guiliani can't seem to do anything but say how great he was during the 911 crisis. Granted he did a great job. But Rudy, I don't want to vote for the guy who won't be usable unless catastrophic events occur, okay buddy? And Mr. Law and Order is on vaguely interesting from the sheer standpoint that he might slip into his character from the show and we would end up with the first ever Oval Office message from a president lounging in a giant leather chair while pounding down his third whiskey highball.

That's when it hit me: Brian Kelly for President.

Why not? He as all the qualifications if you look at:

1. The ability to turn a losing culture into a positive. He did it with a mediocre University of Cincinnati football team, where others had failed. I'm betting that he certainly could turn this crazy war we are involved into something positive. Don't you think changing the Baghdad surge into a spread offense attack would win the war within weeks?

2. He's a uniter AND a divider. In a matter of a few months he's managed to unite all the Bearcat fans, and divide out the city between Bearcat fans and the "Entitlers" known only as the scourge of the Earth (scarlet and grey beasts). I'm have no doubt that Kelly could work both sides of the aisle of Congress and get our Economy turned around.

3. He knows opportunity when he sees it. Look at the Bearcat's defense. It ranks 2nd in the country in interceptions. Seizing on the art of the takeaway is what this guy specializes in. You don't think he could campaign better than some of the current candidates? (that means you pretty boy Romney).

I could go on, but this brief list would quickly turn into a scroll. That is how much I believe in this movement. Coaches are true leaders. It's time we had one of the best in the White House.

Now. If we can only get 3CDC to realize this and show Bearcat games on the big screen on Fountain Square.

BENGALS BEGINNING TO LOOK LIKE MARVIN

There are some adages in this society of ours that I will never, ever buy into. For instance, the one that says that dog owners have a tendency to take on the look and properties of their pets.

That is utter crap.

I mean really, if Halle Berry bought a bulldog, then does that mean that she's going to grow jowls, lay on the couch and slobber? Seriously.

Although, if she did grow jowls, lay on the couch and slobber, 90% of the American male population would still date her--including me. I'm not above that. I don't care what that says about me.

One of the older adages in sports is one that says that a team tends to take on the attitude of it's coach.

I've never bought into that. It is just too hard to comprehend that a group of 30, 40 or even 50 players from all walks of life, with different types of backgrounds, would all exhibit the attitudinal properties of one individual--no matter how great a leader that one individual is.

But as I watched the Bengals get dismantled by the Patriots on MNF this week, I began to watch the shot of Marvin Lewis on the sideline. Hey, at that point it was more interesting than watching Randy Moss catch another TD pass from Brady, while a hopelessly helpless Leon Hall looked on.

What I noticed was that this year's version of the Bengals really does seem to imitate it's coach. Let's review.

Marvin walks around wounded on the sideline due to achilles surgery. The linebacking corps walk around wounded as well. In fact, even Hawkeye Pierce couldn't help that mash unit. The Bengals might end up creating a linebacker-less defense this Sunday out of necessity. They ended the game with 2 linebackers in uni's. Uh, I never played NFL football, but I'm pretty sure that ain't good.

Marvin walks with only one crutch, so as to give himself a bit of mobility and the slightest hope that he soon will be functioning normally again. The offense has certain drives where they get into good rhythm, then finish it off with a TD. That gives fans the hope that they will turn things around and begin functioning normally. Unfortunately, they will then immediately rack up several yellow hankies in a row, or have terrible play calling, or have a turnover that rips that hope from the fans almost as quickly as it appeared.

Marvin gets frustrated when things aren't executed, then bickers with his coaches (either on the sideline or in the press box). T.J. gets frustrated when the ball isn't thrown to him on every play, then comes to the sideline and bickers with Marvin, or offensive coordinator, telling them to call his number everytime. He's open. Even when he's not, he is. Book it. Just throw him the damn ball.

Oh, wait....that last comment was regarding a different receiver. My apologies. T.J. hasn't written his literary masterpiece yet. But I'm sure it is coming.

After the game, Marvin threw a profanity laced tirade at his players in the locker room. Most every word could be easily made out by the press waiting patiently in the hall. During Monday night's game, Carson got in Chad's face and they threw profanity laced (presumably) tirades at each other.

I can only imagine how that one went down:

Carson: What the hell are you doing? You were supposed to cut in on the post.
Chad: What the hell are you doing? You were supposed to throw the fade.
Carson: Fade? Why the f*** would I do that? We aren't close enough for you to head to the corner for a fade.
Chad: (Waving hands wildly and pointing) Do you know who you are talking to? Do you f*** know? I'm f***** Ocho Cinco baby! Future Hall of Famer. I've got the jacket to prove it.
Carson: You can't name yourself a damn number. Who do you think you are? Prince.
Chad: No! Did you not just hear what I damn said? I'm Ocho Cinco. F**** Ocho Cinco!
Carson: No. You didn't hear what I just said. You can't name yourself after your jersey number dips***!
Chad: What did you just call me? What the hell do you know? You went to a damn party school in the f**** Pac-10, bitch.
Carson: So did you! What conference do you think Oregon is in?
Chad: (Silence. Thinking hard.) Oh yeah. You're right. (Silence) What the hell were we arguing about again?
Carson: (thinking hard himself) Uhhh. I don't remember.
Chad: Alright. So next red zone opp, we go fade to the corner?
Carson: (Exasperated) Yeah. Whatever.

Let's just hope that pretty soon the Bengals start taking on the only Marvin attitude that truly matters to this city and its fans: Superbowl winning coach.

Welcome the Wonderful World of Sports Humor

Hello there!

If you have come looking for wonderful humorous observations about the Cincinnati sports landscape then you have come to the right place.

If you have come looking for porn, goats, or goat porn, well obviously your in the wrong blog. Although animals like Bearcats and Bengal tigers will be prominently involved.

But not like that. Sick-O's.

If you have reached this blog in error, then simply back out of this blog, then dial 1-800-I-Have-To-Be-Smarter-Than-The-Machine-I'm-Operating.

Just kidding. I hope you take a look around and stay awhile. Hell. Tell all your friend, if you like it, and return often. I don't mind. Really.

I'm new to the blogging world, but not new to writing. I am an actor/writer/wonderfully talented database manager. Okay. That last part was a lie. I'm not "wonderfully talented", just a database manager.

Though I grew up in Texas, I now have called Cincinnati (a.k.a. The Queen City) home for about three years. As such, I have adopted the sports teams as my own.

As you have guessed by now, I have started this blog to serve as my outlet for sportswriting. However, I take a different slant on things.

The more I have lived here, and read the sports sections, and listened to the sports talk shows, the more I realized something was missing: humor. We here in Cincinnati have plenty of blaming....grrrr....bellyaching.....uhhh...I mean critical analyzing of our sports teams.

What we don't have is enough folks taking a look at it with a humorous eye. And folks let me tell you, if you were a sports fan that watched the latest Monday Night Football matchup (Bengals/Pats), you know there is some serious funny being passed around. Although I guessing that the Bengals players don't consider it funny.

But that's why I'm here: to fill the pothole with funny.

Who knows? Maybe this will lead to a full-time column, or a radio show, or just a colossal waste of time. I don't know. All I know is that I'll have fun doing it, even if the only two readers I get are my mom and my dog.

My wife doesn't like sports. Can't include her.

Just one more note before I go: this will be observational humor. I'm not really interested in writing funny poems, songs, song lyrics, etc.

I prefer to take what I see, hear, & read about our local Cincinnati sports scene and create humor from there. I am a believer that comedy is funny because there is always a kernel of truth to it. People can relate because they've either been there before, or can easily imagine themselves in certain scenarios.

So if you looking for humorous sports limericks, songs, poems, etc., then please jump on the bandwagon with the goats mentioned above, and keep on cruising the internet highway.

Just remember to leave your friends that are interested. I would appreciate it.