01/15/01:
Could I Be Any More Wrong ... Vermeil's a
Cry-Baby and a Liar! ... Puttin' on the Foil
Remember the scene from SPINAL
TAP where the band finally gets to see copies
of their LP 'Smell the Glove'? In an effort
to do away with the sexist cover, the record
label issues the album with a completely
black cover, which prompts the band to discuss
the merits of the design. Finally, idiot
guitarist Nigel Tufnel (Christopher Guest)
puts it all in perspective when he asks
the seemingly-rhetorical question, "It's
like, how much more black could it be. And,
it's like, none...none more black."
Sitting here today, I suppose
the question is, "Like, how much wrong
could I have been about the NFL Championship
games?" And, it's like, none...none
more wrong.
Regular readers will recall
that I picked the Vikes in a romp in the
early game, with the Raiders deciphering
the vaunted Ravens D and winning by nine.
Well, don't I have egg on my face? As we
all know by now, the Vikes were disgraced
by the Kerry-Collins-lookin-like-Joe-Namath-led-Giants
and effectively quit playing around the
end of the first quarter. Randy Moss and
Chris Carter should be ashamed of themselves
for that limp display.
As for the Raiders? Well,
things might've been different had Tony
Saragusa not cheap-shotted Rich Gannon with
a pile driver into the turf, but that seems
par for the Ravens' course. Ray Lewis sent
Steve McNair packing with a cheap shot in
last week's game, and the final punt of
the AFC Championship tilt was ended with
a completely unnecessary full-throttle special
teams tackle by one of the other Baltimore
thugs. One can only hope there's a little
tit for tat and we get to see Michael Strahan
resting his gap-toothed frame on a lifeless
Trent Dilfer. Hey, if he cried like a schoolgirl
after winning, what'll happen if they're
carting him off on a stretcher?
Speaking of namby-pamby, faucet-eyed
football types, why would anybody believe
a word that comes out of Dick Vermeil's
mouth? Less than a year after quitting as
head coach of the St. Louis Rams because
he knew it would be nearly impossible to
repeat, Vermeil's back coaching his good
buddy's Kansas City Chiefs. The cost to
the Chiefs? Ah, just a couple draft picks
and a cool half-million for a guy who caught
lightning in a bottle a year ago with the
Rams and then bailed on the last two years
of his contract.
I know there're a lot of people
in this area who deify Vermeil for taking
the spectacularly unspectacular 1980 Eagles
to the big dance, but this seems like the
work of a money-grubbing sheister to me.
Anyway, I won't spoil the
fun by divulging my Super Bowl pick this
week. That would simply cause a run on whatever
the opposite bet is!
I was going to talk about
some other stuff this week, like how Netflix.com
is the greatest Web-based service of all-time,
Cheap Trick can still rock with the best
of 'em even though two members of the band
are obviously vampires, and 'Three Sisters'
is the least funny sitcom to soil the airwaves
since, perhaps, 'Mr. T and Tina.' But I
don't have time for that now.
However,
I do have time to mention that this week's
DVD of the Week is one of the classic
sports films of all-time: SLAP
SHOT. Finally available in its original
format (widescreen with the theatrical soundtrack),
SLAP SHOT set the standard for sports cinema
for years to come. Set in the trenches of
minor league hockey, Paul Newman guides
this tale of the misfits and morons that
make up the team, their management, and
the town that lives and breathes with their
ups and downs. Michael Ontkean ably supports
him as the brainy star of the team who won't
"goon it up," but it's the world
famous Hanson Brothers that make the film
the monument to puttin' on the foil. Obscenely
dated (you'll need sunglasses to look at
some of Newman's outfits!), this is a must-have
for any hockey fan or comedy lover!
Remember gang, soberbrothers.com
– your pop culture outfitters –
is now open for business. Inventory is a
bit thint, but we're adding merchandise
from our vast collections weekly!
Until next week...
