Thursday Thoughts

Apple
Why do people always hype up “steel cut” when they’re selling oatmeal? Why does this matter? Does anyone really care about the apparatus used to cut (not cook, or even serve, both of which seem much more important) their breakfast? “Turkey Sandwich with dirt-grown tomatoes.” “127 beers on tap, all served in water-washed glasses.” “Horny secretaries covered in testicle-generated spunk.”

Moustache
The NFL playing a game in Europe is the most obvious, self-aggrandizing since Michael Jackson named his son Prince Michael. Do the Brits really care about the NFL? Are we bringing over announces too? We’re not leaving this in English hands are we? “LaDainian Tomlinson just wholly whocked that defenseman, he made him look he was two tassels short of a tassel collection.” Viability of that aside, I’ll tell you one thing, when England returns the favor and hosts an unimportant regular season matchup of two very average cricket teams at the Rose Bowl, I will fucking WALK there if I have to!

Apple
Honestly, is there anything more moronic than the graphic ESPN showed during MNF comparing Brady’s first six starts to Cassel’s? There’s a certain “it” factor to NFL quarterbacks, a swagger, a confidence that when you walk into that huddle all 10 guys know, not think, know they’re going to win. Brady has it. Peyton has it. Jeff fucking Garcia has it. Young guys like Trent Edwards and Matt Ryan have it. Cassel does not. You can’t teach it, you can’t coach it, like big, beautiful natural C cups. You can fake it, you can work out and get great legs and a great ass, but if you ain’t born w/ beautiful, naturals Cs, you ain’t gettin em. The most telling play happened at the 3 minute mark in the 2nd quarter – 3rd and 10 from NE’s own 12 – Cassel drops back, throws a duck and then is absolutely raped by the OLB. Roughing the passer, 15 yards. The thing is, when that happened, I looked at Cassel and thought, “you lucky fuck.” If that were Brady, I would’ve been thinking, “man, how good is Brady, he totally drew that flag.” You see the difference?

Moustache
Let me ask you this, if you’re Larry Johnson, why wouldn’t you be spitting on bitches? I mean, name me one woman who has ran for over 1,500 yards in an NFL season? Exactly. Here was Herm’s response when asked about the situation, “You spit on bitches to prove a point! Hello! You spit to prove a point! You don’t spit to just spit! That’s the great thing about spitting. You spit they listen. I don’t care if she’s not listening, you spit to make her listen!”

Apple
How long until we see Brett Favre in a tuff guy cell phone commercial? I mean, has anyone’s cell phone been more scrutinized over the last year than this guy’s? So Brett’s in the huddle, waiting for the play to be called in but his helmet mike isn’t working, he’s tapping it repeatedly, looking to the sidelines for help. Close up shot of Eric Mangini with one of his patented “my bologna has a first name it’s O S C A R” facial expressions. Then Brett’s face breaks into a crooked smile and you can see him thinking “hey wait a minute, I’m Brett Favre, I can do whatever I want without any kind of reproach and reprimand” – so he takes a cell phone out of his belt and calls the offensive coordinator in the booth. “Hey, Jim, it’s Brett. I was thinking about a Z post, what do you think?” The offensive coordinator starts to object, but Brett just smiles and hangs up. Brett turns back to the huddle but before he calls the play he fires off a quick text message to Peter King. “Petey, thanks again for the rim job last night. Hope the bruise from my nuts slapping against your forehead gets better. B” Brett puts the phone back in his belt, calls the play and breaks the huddle. Once the ball is snapped, Brett avoids the rush, steps up in the pocket and throws a laser across the middle that is picked off by the safety and returned 87 yards for a touchdown. We fade to black as the announcers praise Brett’s approach to the game and scold the receivers for not being within 25 yards of the throw.

Moustache
Wade Phillips doesn’t have the hair to win a Super Bowl. He looks like a guy you’d buy stamps from. For non-baseball watchers like me, here’s a quick guide to how you can tell which team is going to win the World Series: always pick the team with the most disheveled looking manager. The Rays’ manager is way to put together after 180 games; he looks like a history professor at a community college. But the Phillies’ guy? That fat tub of shit is exactly what you want in the World Series. High School Musical 3: Senior Year, much more crowd-friendly than the original title: School Musical 3: Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha. Anyone seen the new 90210? Jenny Garth and Lori Laughlin on the same show? Are you kidding me? That’s like Tony Danza fucking Alan Thicke! Hey, why stop at 18 games, NFL? Let’s make it 20! Wait, 25! Let’s play all year round! Come on, dickweeds, you know what the correct answer here is, don’t you? Adding more games to the most violent sport in history that doesn’t involve a tiger or the words “Pam Anderson” and “fisting” (very popular sport in Finland, although it's called "pfisting" there) is like getting an incredible blowjob and then asking the chick to dance and blow bubbles with your milkshake. Just enjoy your success and watch Seinfeld.

Dear Mr. Zito

Dear Mr. Zito,

We at Apples & Moustaches would like to thank you for your service and kindly request you pack up your stuff and leave the San Francisco Giants’ organization. It is unfortunate it came to this. We believed in you and supported you and hoped that one day your struggles would subside and you would take the shape of your former self. But that has not happened. Instead you have become the laughing stock of Major League Baseball. Your 7.53 ERA is catastrophic. Your record is vile at 0-6. It’s only the third time in the past 52 years a pitcher has been 0-6 before May 1. Barry, let’s be honest, it’s gotta be hard work being that bad.



Yesterday just exemplified your struggles since joining the Giants. It took you 51 pitches just to get the first 3 outs…and that was after you spotted the Reds 6 runs. (The Reds for fuck’s sake!) It’s pretty damn tough to go into the bottom of the first inning down 6-0. The team has stopped playing behind you. They don’t hit for you anymore. As much as that is hard to believe it’s true. They’ve given up on you Barry, and frankly, we have too.



Your fastball tops out at 84 mph. Your curve ball doesn’t drop anymore; it just hangs waiting for someone to unload on it. Even your lovely locks don’t have the same body and volume as they once did. And where are the snap shots of you strumming the guitar with that gay little hemp necklace? And the stories of you breast feeding chimps in the Amazon to free your mind? That’s the Zito we signed 2 years ago. That’s the Zito we gave $126 million. That’s the Zito who went 23-5 with a 2.75 ERA and won the Cy young just 6 years ago.



But no. Instead we’re left with nothing. No chance of winning the game when you take the mound. You’ve become a joke. So, this is it. It’s time to go Barry. No more fingers crossed starts. No more just one more chance. No more kids wanting to be you when they grow up. No bobblehead night. Your time has come. You’re done. Thank you for your time and your service.


You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.

Hugs,
Magglio

All Out, All Season

As you read this I am sitting in front of my gorgeous TV about to take in Opening Day at AT&T park and the first home game for your 2008 San Francisco Giants. Yes if I was cool I would be basking in the sun while enjoying my overpriced Anchor Steam. But I’m not. I’m at home. With my dog. And a water. With ice.

But hope is in the air. Sure, we started our home season with a 1-5 record having lost (been humiliated) in our last 3 games. But today is our Opening Day. Anything can happen. They just finished announcing the entire Giants team (in which Barry Zito got his fair share of boos) and now they’re doing a tribute to the 1958 San Francisco Giants, the inaugural year for the Giants in SF. There’s Willie Mays, there's Rich Aurillia and there’s Orlando Cepeda. You kinda get the sense some of these guys could still lace them up if we need ‘em.

But do we need them? This is the year of youth for the Giants. Come on, drink the Kool Aid with me. We’re rebuilding. And we’re letting the kids get some playing time. My biggest fear is in a few months from now. When the dust has settled. When the excitement has died down. And when we find ourselves with a 14-45 record. Then what is there to be excited about?

Enough of that for now. The sun is shining! Matt Cain is about to take the mound! Our clubhouse manager just threw out the first pitch! Barry Bonds is nowhere to be found! And Brian Bocock is starting at shortstop. Giants baseball. Huuuuummm Baby!

Hey…at least we’re not the Detroit Tigers.

They're shitty

Let me set the scene. It’s Tuesday evening. I’m sitting at the bar with my best girl sipping a Makers and Diet Coke. Yes, Diet Coke. It’s hard work looking this good. Let me continue. The Giants have squandered a 2-0 lead and find themselves knotted up at 2-2 in the bottom of the 9th. Now they’re battling. I mean this team is showing some real grit. They’re not just going to roll over and…fuck…Ray Durham boots an easy ground ball and the runner scores from second. Yeah, that’s right. The runner scores from second on an infield grounder. The Giants lose. They’re shitty.

On our walk back home I get a text from my friend Morgan. It reads, “this guy here is dead…Cross him off then.” And it hits me like a ton of bricks. The Giants are eerily similar to the famed Cleveland Indians in the movie Major League. We've got a bunch of guys that nobody's ever heard of. Half of our roster was selling real estate or working on their golf game last season. And nobody is giving us a shot. Let’s take a look at the evidence.

Lou Brown/Bruce Bochy – Manager
The grizzly skipper. He always seems to have the right thing to say. He can always rally the troops to believe in one another. And he always smells like a mix of pine tar, sunflower seeds and Rolaids. This is the classic baseball manager. This one lined up perfectly. Have you seen Bochy’s facial hair?!

Classic quote: “My kinda team Charlie, it’s my kinda team.”

Rick ‘Wild Thing’ Vaughn/Tim Lincecum – Stud pitcher
It’s hard to imagine Lincecum with the ‘vedge head’ hair cut, drilling a bunch of chicks and doing hard time for stealing a car. But Lincecum is a dead ringer for the Wild Thing with his rocket arm. Lincecum throws BB’s. Lincecum is the franchise. The baddest dude in the locker room. 12-year-old face and all.

Classic quote: “I look like a banker in this.”

Ed Harris/Barry Zito – Aging pitcher
This one hurts. But it’s the truth. And I can totally see Zito making old guy jokes to the young guys in the locker room. Wasn’t Harris the one who gives up the key hit in the final game against the Yankees? (side note: It was the AL championship right? Whatever happened to the Indians in the Series? Why did we never find this out?) Ok, Harris is 10 times better than Zito. That’s how bad things have got. Zito blows. I don’t know any other way to put it at this point.

Classic quote: “Crisco, Bardol, Vagisil. Any one of 'em will give you another two to three inches drop on your curveball.”

Jake Taylor/Aaron Rowand – The unspoken leader
Hear me out. Jake Taylor was a few years removed from his prime with rickety knees and was arguably the face of the franchise. Aaron Rowand came to San Francisco with inflated numbers thanks to being sandwiched in a killer lineup in Philly. He uses his face to catch himself when he falls and the marketing geniuses in the front office won’t let us forget his hustle anytime soon. Rowand seems crafty enough to lay down a bunt when everyone in the building is expecting he’ll swing away. Now that I think of it, I like this comparison. (self-five)

Classic quote: “I'm hung over, my knees are killin' me and if you're going to pull this shit at least you could've said you were from the Yankees.”

Roger Dorn/Omar Vizquel – Aging shortstop
To his credit, Omar would never give up on a grounder because he feared getting a ball to the face. Omar is a magician with his glove but let’s face it, he’s old. He’s kinda cranky. And he may use self tanner. Just like Dorn he’s a former All-Star (2002). But not when he was on our team.

Classic quote: “Let's cut through the crap, Vaughn. I only got one thing to say to you. Strike this motherfucker out.”

Willie Mays Hayes/Eugenio Velez – Flashy speedster
Hayes couldn’t get on base besides walking or getting a few slap singles. Same as Velez. Hayes had world class speed. So does Velez. Hayes had a problem with pop-ups and push-ups. Velez? Not sure yet. But have you heard his first name pronounced? It’s so cool. Oo-heen-E-O. That’s my attempt to write it phonetically. Now try saying it.

Classic quote: “Going somewhere?” “About 90 feet.”

Honorable mention:
*We don’t have a Pedro Cerrano. We let him go in the offseason and erased his existence from our ballpark. Not having this bat in our lineup is going to hurt real bad. And if you recall, it was Cerrano’s 2 run blast that tied the game in the Indian’s shootout with the Yankees. There is a part of me that wants to give it to Bengie Molina but the most homers he’s hit in a season is 19. And Cerrano easily hit 40 that year…I’m guessing.

*Dave Righetti as Pepper…the skippers’ right hand man.

*Jon Miller as Harry Doyle…the voice of the Giants.

*Jeff Kent as The Duke…the most hated opponent with unruly nose hair.


But let us not forget how this shit show ends. The Indians catch fire late in the season and wind up making the World Series. I think this points to good signs for The Giants. All it takes is a little clubhouse voodoo, enticement to see Peter McGowen nude, a resurgence from some unknown guys and a smoking hot player’s wife to cause some inner turmoil. Has anyone seen Dan Ortmeier’s wife? Anyone?

3 Apples, 2 Moustaches

Apple
You gotta watch who’s buttering your bread these days. It’s a tricky world out there and it’s only getting trickier. With TIVO and DVR becoming more prevalent, advertisers are getting sneakier about product placements. Witness Real World/Road Rules Challenge, they wear Under Armour clothes, they compete for a Zune and they eat all of their meals at the Chili’s Diarrhea Galleria. Ok, I made that last one up. But it’s everywhere. I was just on CNN.com and one of the top stories was about how this year’s Sports Illustrated Swimsuit cover image was “magic.” I was confused. Until I realized that CNN owns SI. Magic? I’ll be the judge of that.

Moustache
Pitchers and catchers report tomorrow. The Giants will be interesting to watch again because of their pitching. Other than that this team falls pretty flat. Dan Ortmeier, Kevin Frandsen and Nate Schierholtz…sounds like the western regional sales team for First Choice Life Insurance. Nope, folks. That’s your SF Giants. Side note: Barry Zito will have a great year. I am positive of this. He is such a head case and last year was way too much pressure. But now he’s had time to cool off. He’s recognizably not even the best pitcher on this staff. It’s a perfect scenario for Zito. Could this be the first year a SF Giant wins the Cy Young?

Apple
The incessant man-crying on The Biggest Loser has to stop. So does the psycho therapy. We get it. You’re fat. Your parents divorced at an early age. You found solace in food. Boo-hoo. Now shake it off and get back in the gym. I want to see nothing else on this show besides, challenges, temptations, workouts and a breakdown of everything they put into their body. If you’re keeping track at home (which I am) it took 8 episodes before they made any mention of an actual food they’re putting into their body (save the product placements for Quaker Oatmeal, Extra Gum, etc). Last night we were told that a turkey sandwich for lunch with a piece of fruit is a great way to stave off hunger. Thanks. Brilliant insight.

Moustache
Fuck Roger Clemens. If he would’ve just manned up and apologized or said he needed a little dab of HGH to get over a painful injury (who hasn’t) then we would’ve all forgave him and moved on. But no. He’s trying to prove a point and in the end he’s gonna end up looking like a bitch. He’ll never make the Hall of Fame and his name will forever be synonymous with steroid users like Bonds, Sosa and McGuire. Step 1 for Roger, fire your PR guy/advisor. Step 2, stop injecting family members with HGH. Step 3, move the compound to Montana and open up a slaughterhouse like Bo Jackson did. Live off the millions, join the local hunting association and drink with the locals at the pub. Is it a sad way to end your illustrious career? Yes. Is it better than the alternative which is making us all watch you get picked apart in the media culminating in a Sunday Conversation on ESPN with Roy Firestone (remember that guy?) where you break down and say you did it for the love of the game? I think so. Whatever. I hate that I wasted my breath on you today.

Apple
Heidi Montag is smoking hot. There, I said it. Her video? Despicable. Her boyfriend? Such a tool. Her 15 minutes of fame? Almost up. Her next video, also filmed and directed by said d-bag boyfriend? To be released any day now. Anybody who spends 99 cents on her song on iTunes is dumber than Roger Clemens’ disaster control advisor. On a side note, the new season of The Hills is filming now and should start again in the fall. I can’t wait.

Is it Friday yet?

With yesterday’s congressional hearings on steriods putting direct blame on the San Francisco Giants and GM Brian Sabean, Bud Selig now has a tough choice to make. Should he turn the witch hunt on the owners and front office execs instead of just on the players themselves? Hasn’t this gone on far enough? What’s next, going after little 11-year-old Timmy’s parents because he had a poster of Mark McGwire in his room and surely they shoulda known McGuire was a doper? This is getting out of hand. We say settle it like men. With fisticuffs, bare knuckles, noogies and half-nelsons.

Think about it…

Bud Selig vs. Brian Sabean

Where you gonna hide Buddy boy? Behind Donald Fehr, George Mitchell and a bunch of other old, rich white guys? Take it like a man. Have you seen Sabean? He looks like he’s just stepped off the speedboat after a marathon limbo/wet t-shirt event out at Lost Isle…with his poofy faux mullet and beer belly. You wanna mess with Sabean? He’s got old man strength. He can bench press a Datsun. He’s wrestled alligators. This one is gonna be over quickly.

Links and gossip and whatnot:

Yes please:
Pics of Rachel Bilson in the latest GQ

Blake is leaving Amy Winehouse:
I can’t imagine why. I mean she’s almost more cracked out than Britney…almost.

Jessica Biel without makeup:
Still hot, am I wrong?

She and Him:
Zooey Deschanel (Elf and Almost Famous) and M. Ward’s new collaboration…album out in March. If she can sing half as well as she can act…then sign me up.


Fake Jessica Simpson!
This is what makes sports cool…right. Do you think she has a fake creepy dad?

Five Quick Thoughts on the Impending Doom of the Mitchell Report

1.
I fucking hate baseball, I think I need to make that point before I dive in, so take this post with a grain of salt, in fact take this grain of salt and inject it into Rafael Palmeiro’s ass.

2.
Speaking of Rafael Palmeiro’s ass, isn’t that the stupidest, weirdest and most ridiculous part about taking steroids? If you’re Mark McGwire don’t you turn to Victor Conte or whoever your dealer was and say, “look, I’m Mark Fucking McGwire, I’m worth $100 million, can’t you figure out a way for me to take steroids that doesn’t involve being pantless in a stall with Rafael Palmeiro? Can’t you make a Power Bar or a shake or something, I really have to bend over in front of Jose Canseco once a week and say, “OK, Jose, fill me up?”

3.
Here’s the early report from ESPN about the Mitchell findings:

Major League Baseball and the Players Association share the blame for tolerating a widespread culture of drug abuse, George Mitchell's report on doping in baseball says, according to two lawyers who said they are familiar with the report.

WOW! Shocking revelation! Also, Rafael Palmeiro’s ass, Rafael’s Palmeiro’s willingness to take steroids, and Rafael Palmeiro’s veins mixing the steroids with his blood all played equal parts in Rafael Palmeiro’s steroid use. MLB will try to determine which had the larger role and punish accordingly, Buster Olney reports.

4.
The good news for baseball? At least you have Bud Selig to lead you through this crisis. I mean his face emits intelligence and inspires confidence and calm. When you look at Bud Selig you think, “now here’s a man that does nothing but think, eat, fart and sleep baseball, he loves the game, he’ll see us through.” In other news, did you know that “Weekend at Bernie’s” has been remade as “16 years as Baseball Commissioner?” I mean, I’d never insult an important, powerful man by insinuating that he looks, walks and talks like a corpse, but don’t you get the sense that Bud Selig has been auditioning for 16 years to be in a remake of the Thriller video?

5.
The next few weeks will be flooded with terms like, “standard of fairness,” “Hall of Fame candidacy,” “the court of public opinion.” But honestly, if the report does not also include terms like “head size,” “backne,” “shrinkage” and “Brett Boone coming out of nowhere to hit 40 home runs in one year” then we might as well shove the entire thing up Rafael Palmeiro’s ass and start over.