Random Thoughts

That pretty much sums it up...

WrestleMania X (1994)

State of the Squared Circle: The WWF is in a holding pattern between the days of Hulk-A-Mania and the "New Generation" with Yokozuna, a bad guy sumo wrestler from Japan (he was actually Samoan) dominating the organization with a title reign that lasted almost a year. Yoko dispensed with Hulk Hogan at the first King of the Ring and retained his title against Lex Luger at SummerSlam and against the Undertaker at Survivor Series and The Royal Rumble. During this time, Vince has pumped up Bret Hart as a people's champion who showcases his amazing in-ring ability throughout 1993 and early 1994. With the rule that the winner of the Royal Rumble getting a title shot at WrestleMania still in place, Bret and Lex have a controversial tie as both men's feet appear to hit the floor at the same time. The result: Bret and Lex both get a title shot at WrestleMania X. Following a coin toss we learn that Bret will have to face his brother Owen before taking on the winner of a Lex-Yoko match. Owen is the convenient opponent as he has begun to feud with his brother in recent months. It is also worth noting that WMX is the first WM without Hulk Hogan. The Hulkster finished his run in the WWF before leaving for a TV career:

While filming "Thunder in Paradise" at Disney MGM Studios, Hulk joins on with WCW...

The Venue: For the 10th anniversary of WrestleMania, the WWF returns to Madison Square Garden, home of the 1st and 20th WrestleManias.

The Card:

Owen Hart def. Bret “Hit Man” Hart

In the opening bout we are treated to a classic match between the Hart brothers. Both men shine, but it is Owen who proves he can hang with his top level brother. Not only does Owen win the match (which means nothing for Bret who gets his title shot later in the evening anyway), but the bout leads to a series of main event rematches between the two.

Mixed Tag Match: Bam Bam Bigelow & Luna Vachon def. Doink & Dink

Thanks to the family friendly WWF we are stuck with crap like this again...

Falls Count Anywhere Match: Randy "Macho Man" Savage def. Crush w/ Mr. Fuji

Though Savage still has plenty of tread on the tires, instead of giving us a dream bout against Bret, we are stuck with this snoozer against Crush. It proves to be the "Macho Man's" last WrestleMania to date.

Women’s Championship: Alundra Blayze def. Leilani Kai to retain

Vince brings back the WWF Women's title, but instead of getting hotties like we have today, we get pigs like these two...

WWE Championship: Yokozuna w/ Mr. Fuji and Jim Cornette def. Lex Luger by DQ (Mr. Perfect was special guest referee)

In a rematch of SummerSlam, Lex unsuccessfully tries to take the title from Yokozuna. Mr. Perfect is named the special referee and his actions cost Luger the title. It was supposed to set up a Luger/Perfect feud, but Mr. Perfect leaves the WWF soon after.

Intercontinental Championship Ladder Match: Razor Ramon def. Shawn Michaels to retain

A gimmick match between Shawn Michaels and Razor Ramon for their disputed IC titles ends up stealing the show and becoming one of the greatest matches of all time. The pace is off the charts and the ladder is used as a brutal weapon. The bout goes on to popularize a hardcore style in the WWF, with the help of Philadelphia's ECW.

World Tag Team Championship: Men on a Mission w/ Oscar def. The Quebecers w/ Johnny Polo by count-out

Why? Why? Why?

Earthquake def. Adam Bomb w/ Harvey Wippleman

Come on, back to back crap!?!?!?!?

WWE Championship Main Event: Bret “Hit Man” Hart def. Yokozuna w/ Mr. Fuji and Jim Cornette

In a rematch of the WrestleMania IX main event, Bret Hart regains the title he lost a year ago. Roddy Piper takes on the role of special referee.

So after a week of birthday reflection, UB is back at his post at BSS...There are, however, a few things that are bothering UB...

Here is UB's cake:

and here' is El Prez's cake:

And what the hell is Jerry Thornton doing with Jenn Sterger?

Anyway happy 30th El Prez...My gift to you, 13 seconds with Jessica Biel...(UB would last about 3 seconds)

Round Two is a tie. I want to marry the Florida chick and have a ton of babies with her. And I want to bang the crap out of the UCLA chick.

Scoreboard

Florida- 1.5

UCLA - .5

OSU - 0

GTown - 0

If you haven't already seen this you might think, "Eh, what's the big deal." For golf this is a major scandal. In all the other sports spitting, snot rockets or even David Cone squeezing out some knuckle-children in the bullpen is accepted...but in golf the idea of basically hocking a loogie in the cup is a no-no.

The last scandal UB can recall for the "Sport of Kings" (isn't this the sport of kings or was that boxing...Isn't boxing the "Sweet Science?" Maybe it's Wrestling that's the sport of kings...) is when Vijay Singh said girls should be playing on the men's tour. Are things creeping towards Happy Gilmore levels? When are we gonna see a real "bad boy" of golf, worse than John Daily? What if a Dennis Rodman/TO-type joined the league and started fake-humping the hole after an eagle?

Not that UB is a saint on the golf course (he's been known to throw a club or three), but this is kind of gross. Of course he claims he just let the spit fall into the cup...So did he drool? Who spits like that, other than when you have that long spit that hangs down while you're taking a leak...Or the spit that won't break while you're getting a cavity filled at the dentist...This is like a half-spit drool thing...Sick-o Sergio, sick-o...

Porterhouse: Fifty bucks says Sergio picks his nose.  

Lou: You're on...

Porterhouse: All right, kid, take your time. [Garcia picks his nose]  

All: [Cheers]

Lou: Double or nothing he eats it.

Porterhouse: Don't do it, kid! [Garcia eats it]

All: [Cheers]

Others: The kid will eat anything...

Others: He was hungry...

1. If you've always wanted to club a baby seal but just haven't found the time, get moving. Global warming is killing the killing baby seals for their fur (and/or shits and giggles) industry. Damn you, global warming. First the polar bears and now the baby seal clubbers- have you no mercy!
2. All the fuss over HGH is overblown. You hear that, Tejada? Seth and I just spent a lot of money for you yesterday during our fantasy auction so I want you to do the honorable thing and inject as much HGH as you can handle. Hell, I don't even care if you can handle it. You can drop dead the day after the season ends and as long as you end up with .310-35-110-.850, I'll be smiling.
3. It turns out that you can be sort of a terrorist but not quite a fulltime terrorist. Good to know.
4. Adam Reilly of the Phoenix, who bought us beers at the March Madness Party and is thus Barstool's favorite Boston-based media commentator writing for a paper with hooker ads, is very quick with the control-C and made sure to memorialize this gem from Boston.com.
5. Ronald Reagan was shot today. Well, not today today. Reagan's dead and you would have to go through a lot of effort to shoot him. I mean, first you have to evade security, dig up his coffin, and I'm guessing that it's encased in cement or something because the Secret Service trains for just this type of scenario, and then shoot him. And you're probably just going to end up shooting at a bunch of bones which may be somewhat rewarding if you were really hellbent on shooting Ronald Reagan but you're definitely not going to walk away happy.
6. Feminism makes chicks sick. Just like I told that girl in college. I forget her name, Professor something or other, she was yakking about equality and women's rights and finally I just said "Sweetheart, if you want to live, then stop all that jibberjawwing and go get me a sandwich and a Hustler." I should have been clearer that I wasn't actually threatening her life at that instant, simply providing helpful medical advice almost a decade before the information was made public. Shit, looks like my appeal is going to work out after all.
7. Girls shouldn't play sports because God made their ACL's weak so that they could spend more time in the kitchen. And that's not sexist- I'm trying to save lives here, people. Am I a hero? Yes. Yes I am.
8. The New Yorker is funny sometimes. And no, this link does not lead to a cartoon. Or an essay about making America safe from terrorism. Because nuclear terrorism isn't the least bit funny. Except when Ricky Schroeder is involved. Then it's pretty funny. Because he was the kid on Silver Spoons and now he's Mike Doyle and he has something to say because he's Mike Doyle and goddamn it when Mike Doyle has something to say, he says it. And God help you if you're not listening.
9. It's the 50th anniversary of the European Union. Lets celebrate by stagnating our economy and giving everyone five months of vacation time.
10. There's nothing you can do about, dads. Your daughter is going to be a slut in college.

I like subs. They're good. And they suit my on-the-go, making deals, no time for a sit-down lunch, high-powered, hanging at the Ivy (the London Ivy not the nouveau rich LA Ivy), swapping drinking stories with Branson and Murdoch, global media titan lifestyle.

But for the life of me, I can not fathom why guys at sub shops insist on putting my hot sub or sandwich in the same bag as my cold drink. It makes no sense. And every time it happens, I get a little closer to grabbing my rifle and climbing to the top of the nearest clock tower.

Listen, I know that all I have to do is remove the cold drink from the bag three seconds after the sub guy hands it to me. But it's the principle. When I get a hot sub, I would like to eat it when it is as close to possible to its original hot state. I don't want to eat a lukewarm sub and I definitely don't want to eat a sub with one piping hot side and one damp, cool side thanks to the can of Coke that leaned against it for the walk back to the office.

And before you say it, I also don't trust that cheap aluminum foil that sub shops use. There is no way that some wafer thin slice of bulk-bought aluminum foil is going to protect my chicken parm from the cold of my Coke. It's just not going to happen. So don't even go there. And don't even try to tell me that a two napkin barrier works either. When it comes to eating subs, I'm no amateur.

Sub guys, if you're out there, stop doing this. Keep the hot sub and cold drink separate. If someone wants them in the same bag, they're morons. If they want to ruin their hot sub, let me do it on their own. Don't be a party to the needless slaughter of nice, tasty hot subs. Thanks.

ESPN.com:

There will be a quarterback change in the Monday Night Football broadcast booth for the 2007 season.

Ron Jaworski will join Mike Tirico and Tony Kornheiser on the ESPN telecast. Jaworski replaces Joe Theismann, who has been offered a prominent football analyst job with the network.

For anyone who loves football, this is huge. Just great, great news. Call a friend to tell him about it, hoist a Guiness to toast the joyous occasion level news.

Jaws is the best football analyst alive. His work on "NFL Matchup" is weekly heroin for NFL junkies, the closest to sitting in on a coaches' meeting that any of us will ever get. It pains a Notre Dame fan to say it, but Theismann is a humorless, jock-sniffing, cliche-spewing Master of the Obvious. The next time he tells us something we don't already know, or that we're not seeing replayed right in front of our eyes, will be the first.

I don't hate Kornheiser. I mean, he could stand to jettison a lot of his shtick, like the Fantasy Football talk that's as phoney as a Chappaquidick neck brace. But I think he could be entertaining if he only had someone in the booth with him with even a moderate sense of fun. And that definitely was not Theismann. TK's every attempt at being witty bounced off Joe like he was wearing a suit of armor. The only way this news could be better is if they brought back Lisa Guerrero and her white sweater.

Not that Joe hasn't been blind sided before. This clip is perpetually NSFAfterLunch:

One of the biggest mysteries of the NFL offseason has been why the Buffalo Bills felt so compelled to dump Willis McGahee.

In 2003, the Bills used the 23rd pick in the draft to pick him up even though with Travis Henry around, RB appeared to be one of their few strong areas. They then sucked it up as he sat out his entire rookie season and the first five weeks of 2004 recovering from a knee injury. Now with two full seasons under his belt, with McGahee having proven to be among the top tier RBs in the league, Buffalo's top priority was, inexplicably, to dump his ass. So they flipped him to the Ravens for two third rounders and a seventh.

The reason why has never been adequately explained. Until the Baltimore Sun got McGahee to admit that he wanted out of Buffalo because the women there are so damned fugly:

Coming from Miami, I was used to partying, going out, just having something to do every night. Restaurants, whatever. Going to Buffalo, it was like hitting a brick wall. Like, 'Damn!' Can't go out, can't do nothing...I'm like, 'What the?' And, you know, the women ...

"You see, when I was in college that's what I used to thrive off of," the 25-year-old says. "The better you do, the more fame you get. So you know, it was like, I was used to that. And then you get to Buffalo and no matter how you do, it's the same. It's no big city. You know what I did every day? I came home and played video games."

I guess if I was from Buffalo, I'd be pissed. But as it is, I just have to give the kid credit for being honest. He can't be the first ballplayer ever to base a career decision on the relative amount of doable women in a particular market. But I don't ever recall anyone admitting it before.

If I was the GM of a team in some target rich babe environment city like say, San Diego, Miami or LA, I would without question use the relative hotness of the female populous as a bargaining chip. I shudder to think how much more the Patriots have to spend against the salary cap because they have to sell free agents on the idea of a career spent trolling the clubs of East Providence as opposed to South Beach.

I don't mean to suggest, as Willis has, that Buffalo is full of ugly women, because I have no idea. But I drove through the city once, and I took pictures because I'm not going back. At the time, the civic slogan was "We're Talkin' Proud" and I remember saying "No, You're Talking Urban Blight." If the women look anything like the city, McGahee is a genius.

"So I'm sitting outside Beth's Mod and all of a sudden this dude comes up to me and he's like 'Hey, deaf girl with the sweet rack, want to go down to Roggie's and have some microbrews and an Italian sub?' I was stunned because I instantly recognized the guy as none other than former BC superstar Nate Doornekamp and I loved me some Nate back in the day so I was like 'Hell yeah, I want some sweet microbrews and cappicola.' So me and Nate head down towards Cleveland Circle when these five guys jump out of the bushes and demand that we hand over our money. Nate just stands there and eyeballs the dudes and I swear to God, he says 'I didn't realize I was going to be ending lives today but, shit, sometimes lives just need to be ended.' And then in like the blink of an eye, Nate just ruins the guys. I know for a fact that he killed two of the guys because he literally punched through their chests and ripped out their still-beating hearts. Nate is quick like a cat, a cat that's like a seven foot tall ninja killing machine. And so after Nate is done, he's just like 'Come on, cute deaf girl with the kickass rack, I need to get my drink on.' And so we went to Roggie's and afterwards, I totally gave him a HJ. It was sweet."

I may be off by a word here or there but I'm like 99% sure that's what she signed.

T-minus 31 hours until the next Sanjaya Malakar performance. Easily the best part of this clip is when the news anchor asks whether Sanjaya is happy or scared? That sums up his whole sorry career on American Idol. It's honestly impossible to tell whether Sanjay is enjoying himself or is about to shit himself. I'm voting for shit himself.

This is all I know about this video: It's a game between Bosnia and Norway and the Bosnian fans are pissed about something. So they threw flares and lit the stadium on fire. Because apparently they don't have pithy blogs like Barstool Sports in Bosnia where fans can vent their anger in a healthy, non-burning down a stadium sort of way.

And can we please stop acting like when some guy throws a plastic bottle onto the field at Fenway that an entire generation of young people are incorrigible and borderline serial killers? Thanks. Because they could be throwing flares and lighting Coco Crisp on fire...which no one should be doing...until at least the All Star break if Coco still can't hit...at which point, dodging lit flares will be the least of his problems.

Dan Shaughnessy hates you. And Curt Schilling.

Shaughnessy takes Curt and his blog to task today in a biting piece so cranky that you can almost smell the moth balls through your computer screen. Shaughnessy is up-in-arms that Schilling has the audacity to write a blog and release information to his readers (or braindead, unemployed virgins in Shaugnessyesque) without first clearing it with him.

Here's what you have to remember about Dan Shaughnessy- he's a luddite. He really is. Sure, his hatred of the textile industry is what made him a luddite but it's his hatred of the Internet that keeps him in the good graces of the luddite community worldwide. He just doesn't get the Internet. He can't fathom that Curt Schilling, who plays Bill Belichick to his Ron Borges, would dare write his own news. That's Dan's job.

Or at least it was 20 years ago. Does Dan even realize how much his industry has changed? Does he really think that he's going to break stories...24 hours after they happen? It just doesn't work that way anymore, Dan. If you have a scoop, don't twiddle your thumbs and let the Curt Schilling's of the world break it. Here's a crazy thought- post it on Boston.com.

But back to today's article. It's sorta sad. I almost feel bad for him. It's like a scene out of Mean Girls. Dan didn't get invited to Curt's sleepover so now he's going to rip him in his burnbook.

It must suck to be so bitter.

Ahh, it's good to see that the Roy Williams we all grew to love as he was squandering unbelievable talent at Kansas is back.

I may not have coached four future NBA first round draft picks to a National Championship but I'm savvy enough to know that when your team is 0-for-overtime, you may want to burn a quick TO. But that's just me. I'm crazy like that.

Honestly, I'm surprised Tyler Hansbrough's father didn't come out of the stands and tackle Roy. I guess what passes for setting up the offense and getting a good shot in Chapel Hill is the frantic swinging of your arms and a look of utter disinterest in what's unfolding on the court. At least, Will Blythe, the author of To Hate Like This Is to Be Happy Forever: A Thoroughly Obsessive, Intermittently Uplifting, and Occasionally Unbiased Account of the Duke-North Carolina Basketball Rivalry, an utterly unreadable, overindulgent sports dork lit fiasco (and I'm a Red Sox fan so I know all about unreadable, overindulgent sports dork lit fiascoes) will probably commit suicide today. Which will spare me the aggravation of muttering under my breath when his next book, To Hate Like This Is to Be Happy Forever: Fucking Call A Timeout, Roy, You Fucking Hack!, comes out.

But you have to give it to Georgetown. JTIII is completely unflappable on the sidelines. He just seems like a guy who knows what needs to be done. Doesn't panic. Runs his stuff. Always has a plan. And I love the fact that Georgetown is back, as Big East commissioner Mike Tranghese predicted when we interviewed him in 2005:

Georgetown has a chance to be very good. They're still a very young team but I think John [Thompson III, head coach] is a really good coach. They're also beginning to recruit the kind of kids back when John [Thompson, former head coach] Sr. was there

Hoya Paranoia. What's not to love?