Bang Bus On Ice

Here it looks like we have Fulton laying out Averman.


Or actually that could've been Merriman in the dark jersey, receiving the minor-league hockey equivalent of getting tucked into bed. What a wallop.

Thanks to Wyshynski and AA for the vid.

LBMS Films Presents: Forgetting Brandon Marshall

From the producers of The 40-Year-Old Quarterback and Knocked Up By Travis Henry comes a comic look at one guy's arduous quest to grow up and get over the heartbreak of losing a blossoming elite receiver -- if he can only make himself start Forgetting Brandon Marshall.

Struggling fantasy owner Peter Bretter (Jason Segel, How I Met Your Mother, Freaks & Geeks) has spent four months idolizing his wide-out, Denver Broncos star Brandon Marshall (Brandon Marshall, Central Florida). He's the guy left cleaning up television shards and accidentally omitted from post-game interviews. But his world is rocked when the non-keeper league’s season ends and Peter finds himself alone.

After an unsuccessful bout of fantasy baseball and an on-the-job nervous breakdown, he sees that not having Brandon may just ruin his life. To clear his head, Peter takes an impulsive trip to Oahu, where he is confronted by his worst nightmare: his ex-player and a gaggle of drooling, prospective new Marshall fantasy-owners, sharing his hotel! But as he torments himself with the reality of Brandon's potential new team, he finds relief in a flirtation with Calvin (Calvin Johnson, Georgia Tech), a talented off-season resort employee whose large hands and tremendous athletic ability tempts him to rejoin the world of off-season draft preparation. He also finds relief in several hundred embarrassing, fruity cocktails.

For anyone who has ever felt it move after a sleeper-turned-star's touchdown comes a heartfelt look at fantasy male relationships -- featuring Wes Welker, Tony Romo, Santonio Holmes and Minnesota D. Part romantic comedy, part guy-yearning yarn, Forgetting Brandon Marshall is the world’s first borderline gay romantic comedy.

Overheard From the Guidance Counselor's Office

Nice job by the ever-charming Matthew Berry (aka Talented Mr. Roto) recapping the last decade (and beyond) of developments in fantasy sports. We’ve been partaking for about 12 years now and one thought has remained a fixture on our mental mouse wheel for quite some time.

Along with bartending on a tropical isle, becoming a fantasy sportsmith tops our list of desired career choices. We often envision ourselves turning heads as a renegade industrialist; combining attributes of the stock trader, the medic, and the scout; and perhaps even parlaying the potential revenue river into our own line of business-casual bathrobes.

But every time we try to chalk up a conceivable game plan, managing dozens of franchises in every possible sport, we’re left disheartened at a projected $5,000 annual income. And that’s assuming we can win 25-percent of the leagues we enter. Dag.

It looks like we better slip back into a Hawaiian T and start practicing our Strong Island ratios.

All Iassogna, And You Porked the Mutt

Four-year veteran major-league umpire Dan Iassogna, ladies and gentleman. Slicing and dicing Matt Chico's WHIP.



Uhh... maybe Dan was just fist pumping in celebration of Escobar's blazing speed. Either that or he was in fantasyland donkey punching an imaginary Jessica Biel.

Wow.

Vid courtesy Awful Announcing

Now I Mean You, Crank That Gary Glitter

A few Calgarian calls by the refs could not stop the crustacean Roenick, above top right, from feasting on the supple buttocks of the firecrotch Kiprusoff, above left, in the Sharks' 5-3 game seven victory over the Flames Tuesday night.

Two goals and two assists for the old timer make it eight points in six career game sevens. Fantastic. This asshole used to irritate us to no end as an outspoken douche for other teams, but now that he is a Shark, we understand the words he has spoken. He has spoken. Jeremy's shhpohkenn, yeeaa-aaaa-ee-yeahhh.

Cotton-Mouthed King Wishes You Happy April 20

Lebron provided White Castle sliders, Hostess donuts, blazin' buffalo and ranch flavored Doritos, and peanut butter to all in attendance at the sold-out Quicken Loans Arena for the annual event.

C-Brew Burned by the Flame of the Double Dragon

We missed this from a few nights ago but Corey Brewer put a nice little exclamation point to the WTF that was the Timberwolves season. Not only does he stuff himself on the breakaway dunk but he gets his rebound and misses the rim completely on a putback.


Yeah, we'd say that's the household-chore equivalent of shattering a dish and then picking up the ceramic shard and accidentally gouging out your eye.

Minnesota: Where net conservation happens.

Thanks to Basketbawful for the vid.

Things To Do In Denver When Driving Krunk

Since we're feeling a little frisky tonight, we thought we'd pull some NBA playoff predictions out of the bottom of this wild turkey. Literally, these picks were retrieved from the gullet of a bucking bird, scribed on tiny, fortune-cookie sized slips. Here are the first couple matchups:

1. LA Lakers vs. 8. Denver Nuggets
If I'm George Karl, I'm replacing my dancers with 12 young women who look like this. And then I'm ordering my opponent son to helm the wheel of Melo's Mercedes. Then I'm going to masturbate furiously in the locker room before each and every game, project my essense on the team whiteboard, and hope the jizm resembles a new, creative, gameplan with which to not get swept.

Denver is spunky and they've got the talent to win a few games in this series. However if Karl doesn't follow those above-mentioned steps to the tee, they don't make it to next weekend (game two). Lakers in five.

2. New Orleans Hornets vs. 7. Dallas Mavericks
Earlier this year we wagered a friend $1,000 that 49ers behemoth Patrick Willis was headed for Canton. We'd be willing to place a bet of the same stakes that Chris "Basket" Paul is on his way to Springfield, or wherever the NBA hall happens to be. He's phenomenal. He could take four WNBA players and they'd give any five the Special Olympic squad throws on the court a run for their money.

Can't pick against Dallas here though. Just can't. Want to. Can't. Don't want to see Cuban's manzere strap jostling loose of his shirt-jersey from a DDR-esque celebration after a Hornets missed crunch-time free throw. But that was too easy to picture. Mavs in seven.

More predictions coming before the playoffs begin, we would assume.

Please Sir, I Want Some More

The Portland TrailBlazers would like to submit a Guinness entry for shortest time between half-court alley oops.



Call it the Cal-State Stanislaus offense, call it what you will. But damn will Port be sexy with Oden and another lottery baby thrown in the mix next season.

Bay Area Diagnosis Negative: Smoke 'Em If You Got 'Em

Two weeks ago I woke up and realized the Giants are driving hard for the number one pick (Ed. Note: They're too scrappy for that nonsense.), the Warriors (with the exception of Monta) collapsed on the court, the Niners are fundamentally weak, the A's are moving to Fremont, Kobe Bryant is going to win the MVP, Orestes Destrade is getting more face time than Peter Gammons, I need to do my laundry, pay my taxes and invest in some household paper products but with diesel stroking me over a barrel to the tune of $4.25 a gallon, or $75 a fill up, I can't afford paper towels, or my preferred 2-ply Charmin ultra soft luxury liner toilet tissue.

I tried a coffee shop to numb the brain. Nice people, good prices, live music, delicious lemon bars. It worked for two consecutive days but then what? I need sport! Where is it? Don't tell me about playoff basketball. I would rather dig out my old MS-DOS computer and play wheel of fortune. Man vs. machine, good vs. evil, Vanna White's pixelated tits, a human struggle.

Unless something shifts, I'm headed towards a Limbaugh lifestyle. Horse sized doses of Oxy-Contin, turquoise inflatable rafts, Hawaiian Tropic, Cubans the size of your forearm and my iridescently-clad fruit bowl clearly stating my cultural indifference. No more yuppies, no more teeny boppers, no more fat people. I don't care about your petty psychological needs. I don't care what your boyfriend said to so-and-so, or how many lbs you've lost on your new diet, or what's in your 401k. I don't care how hard you studied for your fourth period chemistry test. I don't care if you're on your period. Fuck off and find your own pool, I live alone.

-Locomotive

Exclusive ESPN Report: Network Still Licking NFL's Plumbasket

ESPN News Services

ESPN reports that ESPN, the worldwide leader in sports, will announce tomorrow, on ESPN the Tuesday, that the network will still be airing National Football League games in 2008.

Stay tuned for 24-hour coverage of ESPN/NFL schedule-release analysis beginning at midnight, on ESPN's 66-platform network of networks.

ESPN's Bob Ley reports that tomorrow, ESPN.com's featured comment will stay: 'WAR IS PEACE, FREEDOM IS SLAVERY, IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH' for the duration of ESPN the Tuesday.

A Thorough Bending Over

It took us a while to get over the non-gimmick, non-image philosophy over at Fire Joe Morgan, but we've cautiously made the turn. It's a little scary to read a blog that gets by on just solid content alone.

The fact that one of the head writers is Mose Shrute however is just a beat-tastic plus.

Go take a look at how FMJ spatula whips some sense into an "old school" baseball mind. Or should I say quote, unquote old school?

Heady Days [Fire Joe Morgan]

Crisp, Cool, Clean-cut Laughs

We've been in a bit of a Kenji Johjima-esque funk lately, for that we apologize. We've been posting more often at our sister blog -- which happens to be 100% SF Giants related in content -- more often the last month but we're sure LBMS is in for a fresh infusion as the temp. gets hotter.

And by that we mean we'll be whipping the Locomotive to speed up his conveyor belt to get you more burlesque tales of sport as typed from the back-corner of a Peet's coffee house with one hand down his pants and the other one giving his balls as a high five.

But for right this moment, try not laughing out loud to this ensemble of furries mascot miscalculations.

See more funny videos at CollegeHumor

Super Nintendo Chalmers Delights the School Children

Jittery stone-fingered free throw attempts in crunch time. Way off the top of the backboard bank shots as the clock shot expires. Fast break after fast break in the closing minutes. And as good of a tying bucket as has been in recent memory.

What a contest!

Oh, and go here if you want to relive the final five minutes another five times or so.