New posts coming soon

For anyone curious why we are only posting stories from over 6 years ago and no new material, be patient. We are currently transcribing our old stories from print to online format. Then once everyone has been able to enjoy all of our older classics, we will start with the fresh new material for your reading pleasure. Thank you very much, and please spread the word about this blog.

Issue #4: September 2003: The greatness of College Football

Let's start off with this. We had one story all ready for your reading pleasure, but then something happened. The man got a hold of it and shut it down. So down, it looked like up to us. But folks, the man can't keep us down. We're here for you and we're never going away. That said, we're back, and this time, we're 2 Angry 2 Furious. Let's do this thing.

College has best been described in a single word, chanted over and over again. Toga... Toga. We have had it up to here with all of these rules, rankings and all other nonsensical officiating tools. For those of you who can't see us, we're drenched in anger. Let the players play the game, let people learn about the truly great teams in college football. We want to show you Grambling State. We want to show you Miami of Ohio. We want to show you the Buffalo University Bulls. It is our duty to show you the essence, NAY, the spirit that is college pigskin.

We got to tell ya about somethin' we hate. The BCS. Never in history has there been such hatred towards three little letters. BCS, or as we here like to call it, the Bull Crud System, has no place in such a beautiful sport as college football. If pure evil were to manifest itself into a college football system, it would have nothing on the BCS. It's like a group of three year olds got together, played with some blocks, spit up some strained peas, created the BCS, and then took a nap with their juice boxes. That's right, we went there; juice boxes. Sweet jiminey Christmas, we're bringin' in the funk.

We have something even fresher on our mind to go off about. I'm sure we have seen it at the big games. It's a little disease only seen in football. We call it Quarterbackius Slidius Wussieus. We don't watch football to see some huge quarterback tuck the ball away as if he is some pro-bowl running back, run half a yard, realize that football is a contact sport, and that the 350 pound defensive end coming right at him isn't interested in having a tea party. At least not till after the game.

In this grand state of ours , we have many a college football squad. We realize that there are many fans in this state. In order to write objectively, we have changed the names of some items. That said let's start on Boregon State. Home of the Bbeavers. There are many talented players there; however QB Derrick Anderson is most definitely not one of them. We have to say if he throws the ball any more, there will be a new record for most losses in a season. If negative points could be scored, Anderson would be the one to do it.

or Perhaps you are one of the other teams fans, you may know them as the Boregon Bducks. Who would you say are the Boregon Bducks? If you can't crack our genius, don't fret, not many can. But if we are on the subject of awful play, then the Bducks duel quarterback "threat" of Jason Fife and Kellen Clemens have the art of suckitute down to an exact science. Coach Mike Belioti has decided to change the entire face of college football and eliminate the role of starter. You get on the field not through talent, but because your name was drawn out of a hat.

We have another university in this state, but is there really any need for us to rag on the Bportland State Bvikings? We are angry but not that cruel.

Who does Maurice Clarret think he is? Honestly, the kid has talent, but he's lacking a brain. Let's be honest; most good football players go to school as the next stop in their career. Clarret however, forgot that when you go to college, you have to go to class. But folks, perhaps a major in Canadian history was a little to much for him. Hopefully he picked up a lil' somethin' somethin' seeing as he has a bright future playing for the Edmonton Eskimos. Maurice has gotta learn how to defend the Igloo. But just in case the CFL isn't a good fit, Clarret could always sell his National Championship ring and his "borrowed" SUV.

Football is, hands down, the best sport on any level, and even more so at the college level. Many careers have been made or broken on the college gridiron, upsets have amazed us, blowouts have annoyed us; the one thing that can not be denied any longer is the fact that the triple option is the greatest play in any sport. Period. However, the truly greatest thing about college football is, of course...fat, inebriated, painted fans with their shirts off. Ahh, inebriated. Long live the glory.

Issue #3: May 2003: The Yankees

Let's get one thing straight. George Steinbrenner is the devil. Someone call President Bush and tell him he missed one of the axes of evil. If we are in the business of taking out evil regimes, then we believe that Yankee Stadium should be bombed to hell. Anyone who likes the Yankees should be considered a terrorist. Bickedy-Bam! Steinbrenner and the rest of his filthy franchise is the reason why there is evil in the world. However, without the money-loving Yankees, the baseball world would not be the same. The Yankees give us fuel to feed our anger towards them.

Back to the topic of evil, two words for you folks: the players. Lets get started with our old friend Derek Jeter. How anyone is able to pick up a bat around him and stave off the need to swing it still boggles the minds of these two journalists. The urge to rumble doesn't stop with Jeter. No no, many feel that perhaps Roger Clemens should be beaten like a French mime. Mmmmmm, silence. Still others feel that Jorge Posada should get a real name, and should also be beaten along side the French mime for the stunt he pulled last year during the All-Star game. Or perhaps you are one of the few Oakland Athletics fans out there that feel Jason Giambi should go back to his bad boy image because many are now mistaking him to be a member of N'Sync.

When opening day rolled around, many were excited for a new season of baseball. After seeing Derek "The Boy Wonder" Jeter almost ruin his career, the two of us could not help but laugh our asses off. Jeter did not take it like a man. Oh no, he cried like a baby...with a diaper rash...a bad rash. The one that stings and leaves skin raw and ridiculously painful to the touch. Note to Derek: be a man. Just like the Phoenix Suns, we are taking that one to the bank.

On a lighter note, we must give praise to the Yankees that deserve it. Old-schoolers like Babe Ruth, Yogi Berra, Mickey Mantle, and Lou Gehrig, who created the sport we know today. They never complained; if someone complained to the Babe, he'd hit them and tell them to take the gripe to the kitchen. Truer words have never been spoken. Today's Yankees are so hopped up on steroids that they don't know whether to rip your head off or cry on your shoulder. Speaking of drugs, does anybody remember our old pal Daryl Strawberry? We hear that he might be changing sports and moving to Portland( Puff, Puff ).

One of the things that angers us the most about those stupid Pinstriped pretty boys, is that they buy their players from countries like the Dominican Republic. Shipping off little boys to the Yankees is the largest export that country has. Have you ever really heard of anything else coming from the Dominican Republic?

One question we cannot help but ask is, "Where is the love?" Has everyone forgotten the other New York ball club? If you take a close look at both the Yankees and the Metropolitans, you will find out they are very similar. Only one small difference: the Yankees have money-as do the Mets- but the Yankees spend it well. The Mets, do not. For example Shinjo. Imagine Ichiro without skill or looks. That's Shinjo in a nutshell, baby. Booyah! In closing, it is the opinion of these two journalists that the entire Yankees organization is the reincarnation of the Nazi regime.

On that note, until next time...

Issue #2 : Febuary 2003: Money in Sports

Hello readers. As you may know, this is our third Angry Guys article, and that means we're getting serious. If this was a relationship, we'd be doin the wild monkey dance... Oohhh ya. (This has nothing to do with the working commitment between Sean Burt and Kyle Simpson. They are both very straight and both enjoy women.)

We have noticed over our many years of watching sports that if an owner gots the bling-bling, then for the most part they control the league like a fat kid on a cupcake. There are a few exceptions to the rule that you can have all the money in the world and still lose. (Cough, cough.... The Seahawks. Come on Paul we expected better.) Money can buy you the refs, happiness and corndogs, but it can't buy you respect.

Folks, let's think about this for a moment. There are those teams out there, which we like to refer to as "Black Holes" of the sports industry. These are the teams who throw money at the players and managers and never give the fans a championship in return. Take, for example, the Cubs. Does anyone remember the time when the Cubs were any good at all? It's not fathers, or grandfathers who are telling their children about the heyday of Chicago baseball. The Cubbies haven't been a threat since your granpappy's rise had a hand crank. You practically have to be a veteran of the American Revolution just to remember those lovable old Cubbies. Benedict Arnold would be proud.

When thinking of a powerful team with tons of money who do you think of? The Cincinnati Bengals, the Cleveland Cavilers, or maybe the New York Mets? The answer is no, because all of those teams lose. The team who comes to mind is the filthy, pin-striped, pretty boys of the Bronx. That's right; we are talking , of course, about the New York Yankees. Could anybody love a face like Derek Jeter? No, because he is so ugly to look at, it hurts. Hurts like fire. Speaking of the Bronx, we may not be as pretty as Jenny from the block, but we know how to bust a rhyme here and there. Oh wait, our mistake, we forgot that we're white.

In the world of team ownership there is one equation you must know. Ugly owner= Power/Money. Don't believe us? Just focus your attention to the Dallas Cowboys for a moment. Jerry Jones is one of the most frightening people on the face of the earth. Some owners may be uglier, but they stay hidden in their press box high in the sky. This man walks around the sidelines like a hobo with a mission. Cash money! When we see pictures of him, the horrifying image replaces the wahle in our nightmares. Sure the Cowboys have fans, but they're ugly.

The one thing we hate more than a rich owner is a rich player. Does one person really deserve $250 million to play a game? If so, we nominate ourselves for the Monopoly championship. Then again, athletes aren't just one person; they have to be able to support all the members of their posse. So in truth A-Rod only gets about $25 mil per member. Now we feel so bad for him. Oh wait, no we don't, because he is still making money from his endorsement of Ballpark Franks. Mmm...beefy.

For those of you who enjoy sports, you may or may not have enjoyed the Super Bowl. We personally were disgusted by the play of pro bowl QB, Rich "I'm Losing My Job Next Season" Gannon. His performance was so bad that it was reminiscent of Ryan Leaf. Leave us be. Let us cry in the corner. We need some time.

Issue #1: December 2002: Old School B-Ball Vs. New School

Ahhh, basketball season. Where else can drug users, sex offenders, and wife beaters play a game of ball with their peers? Oh yeah, that's right; isn't that what happens in prison? Just recently, our beloved "Blazers" (and we mean that on more then one level), lost two of their athletes, one of whom has skill. The other... Well lets just say we're waiting for the trade. If all else fails, there is an opening for janitor back at your old high school if you're interested, Damon. Are we the only ones who are a little tired of hearing about basketball players getting in trouble over small things, like Ziploc bags of weed or driving drunk? Come on Damon, you're a millionaire; go for the green and fill that Hummer with your good buddies Rasheed and " Puff The Magic Dragon". Boomshakalaka!

Clearly, this isn't the heyday of basketball. We remember the days when people believed that Julius Irving was a real doctor and a time when you weren't cool unless you were rocking a pair of Chuck Taylors. Now we're not saying that everyone in today's NBA doesn't have respect for the old school. There are a select few people who still have a passion for the ABA. Clearly the first on the list is John Stockton. Those shorts have gone up an inch every year he has played. Now that's dedication. How about the coach's? Larry Brown not only played in the ABA, but he coached in it too. Talk about true playa.

The thing that angers us the most about the NBA is the money. Why in the hell do they need millions of dollars doing what many do free for the love of the game? We don't mind paying to see games, but if we wanted to waste our money, we'd go buy Kazam on DVD. What could be better than watching outtakes of Shaq trying to act? How about throwing a basketball at the "Lower Regions" of Vanessa Williams' Biz-Natch, Rickey Fox. Throw it down big man, throw it down.

What made the ABA? The music made the ABA. Can you imagine it, watching those old-schoolers, Be-ballin and Shot-callin around you as your jamming to soul ballads of the funk masters? We sure can. Today we got all these players making millions to play ball, and then they go out and try to rap about their "hard life". It's tough being rich, isn't it Iverson? Some of these guys are just as bad at rapping as they are at playing ball (wink, wink... we don't need a headband Damon).

They even play the game wrong. When watching a game, you are probably going to see mostly big time dunks and "girly" three pointers. Please don't tell us that we are the only ones who miss the stutter steps of Kareem Abdul- Jabbar or those incredible fake-outs by Magic. Even the big, slow white guy, Larry Bird, had moves; they weren't good, but he still had them. Nowadays, players think footwork is running away from the local Po-Po.

As you can tell, we the angry guys clearly favor the old school to the new. Even though we were born seven years after it's death. It still lives in the soul of one player. We all know who that is folks. Cezary Trybanski, truly the only "Mac daddy" who still represents the ABA even though he is still trying to learn the English language...

Until next time kids, this is the Two Angry Guys signing off.