Bounty Hunt

So, word on the street is that some knucklehead tried to make a naked video of Erin Andrews.

Not cool. We’re outraged here at TDGP. Outraged. So we are offering a reward of a 1994 Ford Escort LX wagon and a mix of slow-jams from the upcoming Fry Party IV: The Reckoning. We have already hired Dog the Bounty Hunter, Veronica Mars, and Angela Lansbury.

TDGP Prayer Vigil: Erin Andrews

Whoa! Whoa! Keep those balls out of my face.

As if my beloved New York Mets were not bad enough this year. As if they could do more damage to my psyche and the sports world in general. Now, Alex Cora, backup SS forced into everyday duty by Jose Reyes’ injury, has gone and hit Erin Andrews in the face last night with a foul ball.

The TDGP was up all last night praying, hitting the phones, gathering the info, cursing the Mets, and asking, “Why, God, why? With so much pain in the world, why do you do this to us?” Well, it seems our prayers worked. According to ESPN, Andrews is fine, suffering only a bruised jaw. She will continue her regular duties.

Let there be light.

Breaking News: Erin Andrews Loves Bog Snorkelling

Yes, bog snorkelling.

This just in, courtesy of the Doc Hollywood Beat, Erin Andrews is a confirmed fan of bog snorkelling. Growing weary of traditional sports sideline reporting, Andrews admits to loving the simplicity of watching two competitors wearing snorkels and flippers compete in water-filled trenches cut thorough a peat bog using only flipper power.

Deep down she wishes this ding-a-ling had flippers and a snorkel on.

Let’s Get Trivial: Trends in Punctuation

I returned last week from a trip out of the country to see that ESPN has made a subtle change to its crawl. Under the MLB heading, amidst the scores and stats, a brief factoid on the new allegations about Alex Rodriguez read something like this (not verbatim):

New book alleges Rodriguez not only loves his pony, but also loves his pony.

This was followed by a related note of some sort (again, not verbatim):

Teammates mum on Rodriguez allegations; “fuck that guy” says rest of league.

See that? See what they did? Nary a week prior these sentences would have been sans end punctuation, mere clauses left adrift in an illegible sea of letters and numbers. But suddenly, as if handed down from some sacred mount of excess punctuation, periods appear to separate the clauses and lend a sense of, well, what? Most of these clauses aren’t even complete sentences! Why are these periods here when we had all been fine without them? Was there some hue and cry over the lack of end punctuation on ESPN news notices? Can we expect question marks as well, or even exclamation points? I can see it now:

Joe Buck finally put to death!

Travis seems to think that this emergence of the period is merely the result of a new editor on the crawl. But can things really be so simple? Would ESPN make such a radical change without accounting for their audience(s)? What might we make of this? I must confess that I love the periods—they have a certain, I shit you not, elegance to them; they almost seem like a design element more than a mere punctuation mark, and their terseness, I again shit you not, kind of reminds me of Beckett. More likely, though, the periods are a move against the informality of social networking websites. Consider this: over the past several months, Facebook has made significant changes not only to its layout, but also to the auto-formatting of its status updates. Since November, Facebook has dropped both the automatic “is” at the beginning of updates as well as the automatic period at the end of otherwise-unpunctuated updates. Both of these changes are part of Facebook’s larger move toward emulating Twitter, which limits “tweets” to 140 characters, a format which bears striking similarity to . . . ESPN crawl updates!* Thus, while web-based social networking becomes less and less formal, the information crawl of a cable sports network increases in formality. Rather than succumb to the haphazard spelling and punctuations, the internet slang, and the utter trivialities of posts on such sites, the ESPN crawl editors are moving the other way, establishing greater formality and thus a greater sense of significance.

In other words, “Yes, Ken Griffey’s inflamed colon is a weighty, weighty matter that cannot be dismissed without the serious consideration demanded by a period. Which is completely different than your friend’s pointless tweet about the new periods on the ESPN crawl.”

Erin Andrews.

* And, more generally, the crawls of cable news channels, text messages, and internet chat messages

TDGP Poll Result: Who Is Your Favorite Female Sportscaster?

Yup

It is my pleasure to report that Erin Andrews is TDGP’s official all-around Sportscaster of the Year. She won the competition running away, crushing her competitors garnering 47% of the votes. Closest to her were Melissa Stark (17%) and (my personal fav) Suzy Kolber (13%). Poor Hannah Storm didn’t even get a nod. What disrespect.

Although, as reported, Playboy already named her Female Sportscaster of 2009, we at TDGP really don’t care what they think. And, unlike Playboy, we are not stuck on the superficial. Erin Andrews is much more to us than her looks.

Clearly, a Playboy fan

Here at TDGP we do appreciate her looks. We understand how the modern sports media landscape works and know that she has to look that good just to get attention. In many ways this is a shame, but who are we to change the way things work? We merely observe.

Anyway, we like to highlight different areas of her life: pedagogy, research, tenacity and philanthropy.

I. Pedagogy.

Gettin' her pedagogy on

Born in the sleepy town of Lewiston, Maine on May 4th, 1978, Erin Andrews came out of the womb with a will to teach. A self-professed nerd, Erin loves to learn but, more importantly, love to give back as the above picture suggests. She is clearly talking to people here, telling them stuff. Her favorite topic to lecture on is representations of authenticity in a heavily mediatized world as seen in a recent interview (link posted above):

SI.com: Does it bother you the The Hills is fake?

Andrews: Yes and no. I think L.C. is so cute. I’m sure it’s all staged but what isn’t anymore on television?

This clear dedication to figuring out how society works and then telling other people about it moves Erin to the top of our polls and to 1st place in our hearts.

II. Research

Casual research (the best kind)

Unless you don’t know your face from your ass, you know that research is key to a successful life. Erin learned her impressive investigative skills from her father, Steve Andrews, who took a job as an investigative journalist for WFLA-TV in Tampa, FL. He taught her two things: always follow the story and that the first T in Truth is always capitalized. This helped Andrews out tremendously when she became a Tampa Bay Lightning reporter for the Sunshine Network from 2001–02. Clearly she had to do a ton of research to fake it because, really, who cares about hockey?? But, you know what?? I bet she pulled it off. That’s research.

III. Tenacity

Clearly, Erin Andrews will do what it takes to get a story. That's called TENACITY.

Being a woman reporter in the sports world has its own difficulties that I cannot begin to know. Clearly, one of those difficulties is having to talk to crazy people (Dicky-V) and lecherous people (Bruce P). Earlier on this blog I apologized for criticizing Erin Andrews’ reaction to Bruce Pearl’s seemingly benign advances. Well, turned out I was wrong. Who knew I was wrong? Erin Andrews. She did her research, she knew his lothario tendencies and still had the tenacity to get that interview. As she wades through the filth of college and professional sports, Erin Andrews reminds us what it takes to get the job done.

IV. Philanthropy

Lame-o #1

Lame-o #2, lame-o #3

Lame-o #4

Lame-o #5, lame-o #6

Not only is Erin tenacious about her job, but she also gives back to her community. She will often take time out of her day to take pictures with guys who think she is really hot. She really understands the circuit created between production and reception. She understands that if you give a man a fish, he will eat for a day. Take a picture with a fan, he will be a fan forever.

Well, that’s why we love her and why she is our #1 Sportscaster of the Year. But a serious question remains that haunts her future: Will Erin Andrews ever get off the sidelines and into the studio? Isn’t the studio where legacies are made? Doesn’t she deserve a shot?

Erin Andrews contemplating her legacy

My Sweet 16 Sucks, Elways Gets Ahistorical, Andrews “Honored,” Schilling Retires

I didn't quite hit the mark this year.

1. My backet this year sucks major dingo balls. Apparently the dingo not only took my baby, but also my common sense. Have this many 1-3 seeds ever made it this far? It was a bad year to pick a lot of upsets. No Cinderellas unless you count that underachieving Arizona squad with 3 potential NBA players on the squad. Add to this misery the fact that I am last in my pool except for the goon who didn’t fill out a bracket. Jeez. At least all my Final 4 teams are still in it.

Using that Delta Tau Delta smarts to figure out how to screw the Colts.

2. So now John Elway is admonishing poor Jay Cutler for not playing nice with the Broncos. Isn’t this the guy who refused to play for a team out of college? Every day that passes leaves me a little more distanced from my former Bronco love. I hope Cutler goes to the Jets. That would rock.

S-E-X-X-X-Y

3. So, apparently Playboy beat us to the punch and named Erin Andrews the sexiest Sportscaster of 2009 while naming all male Sportscasters as the Sexistist Sportscasters of 2009. As of now Erin Andrews has a slim lead over Melissa Stark in our poll. Remember, get out and vote! Democracy doesn’t work without you!

I am a meat popcicle.

4. So, my least favorite Republican Curt Schilling retired. This is all I have to say:

Connecticut Smackdown

Jim Calhoun is my new hero–but not for getting his team once again to the top of the college basketball heap. No, he is my hero for putting the rhetorical smackdown on some “political activist” who attended the UCONN post-game news conference on Saturday. Expecting to answer questions about falling from the number one slot or their fresh new win over USF, Calhoun was instead asked whether he thought it fair that he makes about 1.6 mil a year in a state which has nearly a billion $ deficit. Calhoun responded, in sweet-ass fashion, “Not a dime back.” He went on to point out to the activist-idiot that the $12 million the bball team brings in and from which he draws his salary has nothing to do with the state budget. Finally, he invited the guy to meet him outside after the news conference for a little one-on-one time.

Calhoun shows activists where they can put their salary inquiries.

This incident exemplifies, to me, why political activism is so impotent in this country: instead of focusing on real social issues that might be affected by pointed activism, this Rhodes Scholar Ken Krayeske asks a college basketball coach if he is overpaid. First, of course he is overpaid. All coaches in all sports are. Way to break new ground there, KK. Second, the ridiculousness of this question and Calhoun’s easy and effective dismissal of said makes people resent political activism, because they associate idiots like this with people actually lobbying for important social change.

Erin Andrews glares at a random 'activist' who asked her about the effects of her hairspray on the environment.

So, kudos to you Ken Krayeske (whose middle name, I believe is Kelly) for lowering the bar for public discourse. Way to feel the pulse of America and air our concerns in such an important, important forum.

I’m Going to Assume that the American Sportscasters Association Is a Mob Front

About a month ago, the American Sportscasters Association released its list of the 50 best, um, American sportscasters. As one who generally thinks sportscasters are the scum of the earth, the very concept of this list intrigued me. Then I read it. A lot of talking to myself in the mirror and many pints of beer later, I have finally come to terms with this mysterious creature. Keep in mind that it was selected by what I assume is the primary professional organization for American sportscasters.

I'm old and maybe dead

Amazingly, the top 30 is pretty solid. Vin Scully wins, which I guess is fine except they throw radio and TV, regional and national, play-by-play and color folks together without any sense of the different criteria for the different media and announcing roles. There’s a guy named Red Barber at #3—don’t know who he is, but that’s a hell of a sportscaster name (or gangster name, which it probably also is). Costas and Enberg crack the top 10. Not a surprise, though I don’t care for either, and Enberg’s tendency to sexualize young athletes is creepy. Graham McNamee’s at #15, and I don’t know him either. Jim Nantz takes 24th place, which is okay ‘cause his vocal timbre makes golf into something you can fuck to. Madden gets 29. Moving on.

The thing goes off the rails in its bottom rung, starting with the very next fella, at #31, Joe Buck. Joe Buck is a disgrace to his late father. If Joe Buck were looking over my shoulder as I wrote this, I would elbow him in the jaw. Not only is Joe Buck NOT the 31st best American sportscaster EVER, he is the worst American sportscaster currently working. I’ve been through this on TDGP before, but the guy doesn’t even watch sports voluntarily. Then at #35 we have Chris Berman, who I’m pretty sure only appeals to drunk people.

Hi I'm dumb

Then comes #39. Hopefully Rawley will regale us with his story about this man in the comments: it’s Bill Walton. Bill Walton. Really? Is this even believable? Does the ASA even have any interest in credibility? Bill Walton is like somebody’s angry, demented grandfather spewing jibber-jabber about World War II while a basketball game is going on. He’d be worse than Buck, except he doesn’t even really qualify as a sportscaster. At this point, I’m pretty sure the ASA is just a cover operation for a guy named Sal who needs to off a guy named Vinnie. I can’t possibly take this shit seriously. Anyway, further confirming my suspicions, at #47 is Dick Vitale. Dick Vitale was entertaining when I was 11 years old and wanted to take a nap. Dick Vitale now makes me want to stab forks into my eyes and ears. And he does Hooters commercials. Then there’s a bunch of other people, and Pat Summerall is inexplicably at #45 instead of, you know, like #12 or something where he should be. And there’s people named Merle Harmon and Clem McCarthy, who are either fake or also suck.

Honorable appendix: there are also honorable mentions, which are the money laundering of this list: low level, but still shady and despicable. These include, I shit you not, Terry Bradshaw, Tim McCarver, Joe Morgan, and Don Criqui. What exactly is honorable about mentioning any of these people? And why can’t any hockey dudes get any love here? You get Foster Hewitt and nobody. No Mike Lange (who should be top 20)? No Don Cherry (who should be honorable mention)? This shit should be illegal. And where the fuck is Erin Andrews?

Erin is clearly pissed about being left off the list

Agents and Apologies

Just a moment ago, ESPN’s Outside the Lines aired a piece about prominent cultural figures apologizing in the media.  They compared A-Rod’s recent contrition with that of Pete Rose, Marion Jones and President Bill Clinton.  The piece questioned what such figures needed to do to get that all-important “second chance” with the American public and with ever-capricious media vultures that can “make” or “break” — read ‘affect the income of ‘ — celebrities.

Interestingly, one of the “authorities” ESPN invited to speak to this issue was Drew Rosenhaus, an agent known for his manipulation of media and purportedly under-handed representation of many high-profile clients, such as Terrell Owens, Chad Ocho Cinco, and Plaxico Burress.  Obviously, clients such as these, the true assholes of the NFL, have given Rosenhaus a front-row seat to many public apologies, and so it is no shock to see him on Outside the Lines.  However, one also wonders why the agent has not taken some of the flack for the spate of recent athlete apologies.  Is there any doubt that the sports agent has helped intensify the relationship between sports figures and media?  They use whatever means are at their disposal to put their clients in the media spotlight in the attempts to ratchet up interest and salary offers.

For instance, though Alex Rodriguez has never been a media darling (and certainly he has contributed to his own falling star) agent Scott Boras did not help A-Rod’s image when he recommended during the 2007 playoffs that A-Rod opt out of his contract to become a free agent, even though A-Rod wanted to resign with the Yankees.  Rodriguez ended up looking like a greedy toolbox, and Boras was once again exposed as a self-serving manipuleur.

Scott Boras reacts to the omission of bacon on his cobb salad.

More recently, Boras is at it again, representing Manny Ramirez right out of the free agent market.  At this point, those teams interested have either publicly dropped out of the race for ManRam or have acquired other sluggers.  And given that Dodgers owners have indicated that they do not like working with Boras and that his demands are unrealistic, one wonders if one of the sport’s best right-handed hitters ever is going to get the kind of offer he would normally warrant.

Granted, as I have indicated here, the athletes are not without fault.  People like Rose, Rodriguez, Owens, and Ramirez are not good people.  They have, at least to an extent, made their own beds.  One might argue that their agents are akin to defense attorneys, sworn to best  represent their clients at any costs.  Many might even find honor in such dogged representation.  I, however, am not one of them.  I’m tired of the dance– no doubt at the behest of greedy, ridiculously deluded clients, agents thrust themselves into the media to cry about how their clients are not getting quite enough millions for their services and how they are being unfairly treated by the media.  Though I am usually a proponent of free market economics, I now support individual player salary caps for all sports.  That way, the role of the agent can be lessened, as great players will just get the max deal, and lesser players will get less.  This rule will also allow smaller markets to compete for players, and it will curb the rampant over-spending for mediocre players.  Mark Texeira, who, by the way, seems clearly to have juiced, is not worth over 160 million.  Please.  The Yankees overpaid for him because they could, and most other teams had no real chance to lure the hitter.

Erin Andrews is no stranger to being forced to deal with toolboxes.

At this point, I realize this post has drifted away from the original intent, but, I think, all of these issues are inter-connected.  Or maybe not.  Regardless, I just got to rant, and there is nothing that anyone can do about it.  Booyah.

Retraction: Erin Andrews was right.

Erin Andrews keeping in professional with the other Bruce

On 7/15/08, I posted a clip of Erin Andrews shying away from the antics of seemingly affable-dude-coach-man Bruce Pearl. I chided her for being uncomfortable about this.

Recently, news has come to light that Bruce Pearl was a little bit like our 42nd president Slick Willie. While I want to shy away from moralizing Willie’s past indiscretions, I do want to openly apologize to Erin Andrew’s 6th sense about Bruce Pearl. Clearly she knew that he was coming in close for some grab time (not unlike hang time). She kept it clean, did her job, and remained a professional.

As a woman covering sports, I am sure Andrew’s job is tough enough as is. I deeply apologize. All I ask is that she (and the blog world at large) accepts this as an apology: