BOOMSHAKALAKA!

Natural talent isn't something that can be measured. Certain athletes are just blessed with that "IT" factor. There isn't one thing that makes them great, it’s a multitude of different factors coming together to make them multi-talented superstar. These skills are easy to recognize in real life. Throughout history, there have been a handful of players just give off that vibe of " I'm 10 times better then you and there is nothing you can do about it". Obviously, the first few that come to mind are LeBron and MJ. No matter what they do, they are just simply better than everyone else. (With the obvious exception of MJ's failed baseball career. The Birmingham Barons. Really? ) Which brings us to our main point. In our 21st century hi-tech, iPhone world, how do those skills translate to video games? How do you make a player be as unstoppable in a game as they are out on the battlefield? Lucky for all of you, we don't have the chops to cut it in the big leagues, but we have been ballin' since the 16-bit era, and over the years we have encountered a few of these juggernauts. We have been through Bo Jackson in Techmo, to Mike Vick's pre-dog killing days in Madden '04. We've been part of a group of drunken freshman playing NFL Blitz on the N64 in a cramped dorm room trying to decide who has to shave their head with a bic razor. (True story) The world of sports video games spans every generation and even brings cultures together. Heck, with the help of XBOX Live we can make nearly any 12 year old Russian kid cry from the comfort of our own living-room. So without further ado we offer to you a brief tour around the Sports Video Game Universe.

As children, we never really received the "proper" amount of adult supervision. We relied more on the TV and whichever game system we could afford back then. We may not be able to recite the Pledge of Allegiance, but damn it we can name every playable duo available in the Original NBA Jam. NBA Jam changed everything in the video game world. It allowed you to take a two-man crew from your favorite team into a cutting edge virtual world; a world in which you could jump 50 feet in the air, push people to the ground without getting a foul and literally catch on fire. No game consumed more of our young childhood than the Jam and no game outside of red rover caused more of our broken bones. What ten-year-old kid didn't almost kill themselves by jumping off a ladder towards a Nerf hoop while flipping in the air??? Anyone? Anyone? Because our hospital floor was full of other kids in full body casts when we broke ourselves trying to Boomshakalaka. We're pretty sure sure NBA Jam crippled more kids than the lead based paint on cheap toys from China... Too soon? Not soon enough! We will forever thank NBA Jam for its equal opportunity dunking skills, allowing the likes of John Stockton and Detlef Schrempf to get equally high as the preeminent skywalkers of the early 90's like Shawn Kemp and Dominique. And we will always worship the Jam for giving us the on fire rule which, in any sport, gives an individual some kind of reward for sinking three consecutive shots. From beer pong to Jai Lai, Jam's power is felt worldwide.

With the exception of "The Jam", there are only two other relevant sports related video games that come to mind. The first is a game that has not only stood the test of time but one that has actually affected the way its sport is played. We are of course talking about the granddaddy of them all, John Madden Football. There have been many heated arguments settled on the Madden gridiron, especially between these two angry fellows. Without this release valve for our aggression we are certain that we would have hit sticked ourselves into oblivion in real life. This is a video game franchise that over the years has faced many hurdles, from licensing agreements to a rumored cover curse but has always remained on top. It continues to push the edge in realistic graphics in a video game, so much so that we can see a time in the not so distant future where our smell-o-visions will be able to pick up the stinky sweat smell of some 300 plus pound offensive lineman's jockstraps. A great feature of Madden is the franchise mode where you are given the reigns of your favorite team and allowed to build it into a Super Bowl producing machine. Many fans of terrible teams have played their pain away by turning their shitty squads into contenders. If we could just import our fantasy 49ers into real life the universe would be a much better place... god we miss the 80's and 90's! (Steve Young will you marry us? It's San Francisco for God’s sake.) Madden's cover boys, cursed as they are, are always given a special place in that year's version of the game. When Michael Vick graced the cover of the 2004 edition, he was able to run faster than the time it takes for Panda Express to run through your body. He was like Elliot Ness, an Untouchable a god among mere mortals. There was an unspoken rule between all Madden users that nobody could play as the Falcons. He was so unfair to play with that he was banned from regular competition. It was like bringing a machine gun to a knife fight, just not fair. Of course the stardom that comes with being on the cover does not always work out for the featured athlete. Many athletes follow it up by either sucking hard the next season or having their body explode. How do you explain a former MVP (Shaun Alexander) going from 27 TD's to 7 in a year? Curse! Or a massive freak of a QB coming off 3 massive knee surgeries a few years after being the cover stud? Curse! For God's sake, within a season of being on the cover both of them were jockeying for position at the unemployment office rather than drinking Crystal on Diddy's yacht during Super Bowl week! It's gotten to the point where so many players have refused to be on the cover of Madden that they opened it up to the public in a contest sponsored by Doritos. So keep your eyes peeled for this year's version with America's pretty boy Tony Romo on the cover. (We’re just kidding. We all know Dallas fans aren't smart enough to figure out how to vote.)

Our love for Madden goes hand in hand with another great game. We are of course talking about the 64-bit smack fest known as NFL Blitz. There are many reasons this game is no longer in existence, first off the fact that the NFL won't let them make it anymore so there is that. But mostly, it knew it's limits and never reached beyond them. This wasn't a lifelike simulation; this was a shit talker's paradise. A game in which you could late hit your opponents and crush their bodies and souls in one fluid butt smash. The final score usually ended up looking like an NBA game from the 80's instead of a standard NFL game but that's why we loved it. As well it was a perfect drinking game, allowing you to chug beer after beer as the turnovers racked up and touchdown drives took 30 seconds. God bless you Blitz and God bless you college; we miss you both.

Sports video games are a way of life and have changed us for the better by giving us a virtual first person perspective of a pro athlete's life on the hardwood and the gridiron. For every guy and girl out there who has not experienced the greatness of sports video games, shame on you! Don't be afraid of the sticks! Go out, grab a copy of madden and devote about 2 weeks of you life to getting your skills up to par. Trust us it will change your life, just make sure you have plenty of practice under belt if you want to challenge either of these sports giants to a virtual duel. Yamabethur!

Faces not even a mother could love...

Since the dawn of time there have been less then attractive people roaming the earth. Living amongst all of us, yet never truly accepted. We exist in a society where beauty is valued higher then all other qualities but only until the most recent of times have these horrible looking human beings been able to revel in glory. For centuries we have cast stones at these creatures, now we understand that ugliness and skill are not synonymous. People like Ben Roethlisberger and Peyton Manning are featured in television commercials for beauty products broadcast on HD TV sets the world wide. No longer do we shove flaming torches in their faces, instead we allow them all to compete on an even playing field and sometimes we even allow them to win championships. By the time you have finished reading this article, we hope to leave you saying one thing and one thing only..."Damn those are some ugly mofo's". Thats right folks, in the style of the Sport's Illustrated Swim Suit Edition, we The Angry Guys offer you OUR starting line-up for the ugliest NBA athletes of All-Time. Far warning, this could get ugly........ Now that's punny....... and on that note......


NBA's Ugliest of All-Time


PG: Sam Cassell

Standing 6 ft 3 out of Florida State University, the one, the only, the original Space Jam
Martian playing for
our hearts.
Sam Cassell.

Never has there been an athlete quite like Sam Cassell, a man so ugly that he could be compared to multiple Hollywood creatures. Does he look like should be climbing Mt. Mordor with Sam and Frodo? Yes. Does he look like he should be wrapped in a blanket and flying in front of the moon while Eliot peddles towards freedom? Very much so. So we have here a man who looks like a horrible combination of a space alien and a creepy hobbit man. At this point you are probably wondering how this guy isn't locked in a cage in some adventures collection, and the answer is simple. Ball don't know ugly, and thats how a man like this can go on to be a three time NBA Champion and two time NBA All-Star. Bless the USA, where an Illegal hobbit alien can earn millions of dollars and live the dream.


SG: Rick Barry

Not only was Rick Barry an ugly individual but he also had the ugliest free throw shot ever; the granny shot. Yes, an actual NBA player used to use the granny shot to shoot from the charity stripe. With small squinty eyes, translucent skin and a bald head covering that looked like he skinned a shitzu, Rick Barry can be considered the grandfather of ugly NBA players. He is, quite literally, father to four OTHER ugly NBA players. Jon and Brent are probably the most recognizable but let's not forget Drew and Scooter. Together this five-some of Ugly Barrys could have a very lucrative career opening up a freakshow. Personally we would pay them just to remove themselves from the public eye so we don't have to see them anymore. That recurring dream where Rick Barry's toupee is chasing us is just happening too often for comfort, Rick just make it stop! So Rick, while you were a stud basketball player in your own time you make our list because you've passed your hideous and disfigured genes on too many times. If you ever see a Barry kick them in the nuts to prevent them from breeding. Trust us, you're doing the world a huge favor.






SF: Larry Bird

One of the greatest if not the greatest basketball player of the 1980's, Larry Legend is quite possibly the ugliest person ever to come out of the Ugliest named town ever (French Lick... seriously, WTF?). So ugly he was the only guy in the 80's who couldn't pull off the mustache. So ugly he was originally cast as the face of Darth Vader in Return of the Jedi but had to pullout because of scheduling conflicts. We love you Larry because you are one of the greatest to ever play the game but, goddamn, your face makes us cry when we look at it.








PF: Shelden Williams


It almost seems mean for us to pick on this guy. But then you look at how life has turned out for him. He has faced a lot of obstacles in his life, yet time and time again he has overcome. He got kicked in the face by a mule at the tender age of 8, got hit with an ugly stick every day throughout high school, but he overcame. He went to Duke and nearly led them to multiple championships. As we all know good things come to those who wait, and boy oh boy did Sheldon hit the jackpot. He managed to land the only relatively good looking WNBA player in league history, when he knocked up and married Candace Parker. So he might be uglier then one of the Ah! Real Monsters, but he is going to be laying on a bed made of money in his 70's from all the skrilla their freaky 7ft basketball babies are going to make. God Bless you Shelden Williams, you ugly SOB.






C: Chris Kaman

It's never a good sign when your nickname is "The Caveman". It's an even worse sign when anthropologists use pictures of your face to get a better understanding of what Neanderthals looked like in the flesh. Such is the life of Chris Kaman, the white giant currently starting for the LA Clippers at center. Naturally an ugly man, Chris of course made it worse for himself by growing his wispy balding blond hair long and not shaving. Maybe he did it so that people would say, "well, if he just cleaned himself up maybe he would look better." Didn't happen. Welcome to the ugly Hall of Fame Chris, you were a shoe-in.







6th Man: Luis Scola

GOW: "Scola has to be one of the top 5 ugliest people I have ever seen do anything. And that includes watching aging hippies attempt to hoola hoop to bluegrass music in rural Oregon. It looks like he’s not even trying. With a face like that, one would think that he would at least get a haircut and maybe a shave, but not Scola! God bless him. He looks like somebody took one of those really manly WNBA stars and hit her in the face with a snow shovel full of grease, facial hair and awkward teeth. Even Chris Kaman eventually figured out that the long hair is not the way to go, and I’m not sure that guy owns a mirror."


NOTE: This is not a pick we condone, but our editor threatened to destroy us and everything we hold dear by using any of the three unforgivable curses from Harry Potter if we didn't include this guy.





Coach: Jeff Van Gundy

Most people who watch basketball on TV will often hear commentary that helps them better understand the game. Broadcast teams are usually made up of ex-coaches who know the game very well and are able to break down the ins and outs of basketball so that average people can understand. This does not happen with Jeff Van Gundy. Instead you get insight that would shame Charles Barkley. It's not that what he says doesn't make sense, its the fact that it has nothing to do with basketball. Formerly the coach of the Houston Rockets, Van Gundy has the sunken eyes of a sardine, the bald head shimmer of a newly waxed bowling ball and the voice a asmatic 13 year old nerd who puts his underwear on too tight. He's so ugly that Steve Buschemi is his doppleganger, wasn't the only way the hookers in Fargo could describe him was "He was funny lookin' eh?". It's never good when your brother who looks like Ron Jeremy is described as the "Hot Brother". So in conclusion, too ugly to coach, too ugly to commentate, but just right for this glorious list of ugo's.



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STOP BREAKING THE FUCKING LAW!!!!

Dear all Duck athletes,

We Angry Guys have been around for a while and have learned many things. Much of our wisdom comes from living life experiences that would blow the minds of most ordinary people. We taught Dumbo how to fly, taught Eminem how to freestyle, taught William Shakespeare how to write. Through all of these experiences we have learned one golden rule that will lead you to success: DON"T BREAK THE MOTHERFUCKING LAW!!!!!!! While it seems cool at the time, breaking the law never has positive consequences on your career unless you're a mobster or a gangsta rap artist. And while we've been brought in multiple times by our equally rich and aesthetically pleasing Uncle Phil (we're choking on those words as we write them) to teach University of Oregon duck athletes this lesson, they keep showing that they were sleeping through class. From Jerimiah Masoli's five fingered romp through a Eugene Fraternity to the recent allegations that LaMichael FancyFeet James pulled a Latrell Spreewell on his girlfriend, this class of Oregon ducks just doesn't know how to stay on the right side of the law. Boys, let's break it down one last time... When you play well and go to class you have the chance to become an Oregon gridiron legend and make millions of dollars in the NFL. Let's look at recent Duck success stories: Dennis Dixon, Jonathan Stewart, Jarius Byrd, Joey Harrington. Some of those players may not have made it in the NFL (oh Joey...) they still made way more money in a few years than most Duck graduates will make in a lifetime. And, guess what? They're still obsessively worshipped by all Oregon Duck Faithful! If all else fails they could always become a bartender at Taylor's and RAKE IN the tips (Ok, we're dreaming but wouldn't it be awesome to see Joey mixing you a Long island at Taylor's? It would be like an Oregon version of Cheers). Here are the list of talented football players who broke the law, let's see if we can find out what they all have in common: Maurice Clarett, Pacman Jones, Donte Stallworth, Plaxico Burress. Stumped? They're all either in prison, out of the league or making way less money than they should. And you know why??? THEY BROKE THE FUCKING LAW!!!!!!! So as much as you want to steal a laptop which, I'm sure if you asked nice Phil Knight would buy you, or the next time you want to punch out another team's linebacker don't do it. Just pull a George Costanza and do the EXACT OPPOSITE thing that you would normally do in that situation. We're sure it's the right thing to do. And for all you Duck athletes out there doing the right thing we ask you for a favor. Don't let the talented idiots on your team out of your sight for a second... literally. Follow them into the bathroom. Share a room with them bunk bed style. Go to every one of their classes... and bring them with you. Because, you see, you need them to succeed. These guys are first grade morons and when they have millions of dollars you'll be able to con them into giving you money for things like cars, houses and business loans. Think of the time you spend keeping them out of trouble as an investment in your future self. Again, don't break the law and good things will happen to you. Follow that rule and stop destroying our football season before it starts.

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A few tall tales from some large gents.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the sports world, nay the sports universe. We, the two most handsome, ingenious and knowledgeable lads to ever be seen, (also known to you as the Angry Guys) have found a piece never before seen by our reading public. It was locked away in the Angry Guy Vault. You see, when Scrouge McDuck passed on a few years back, he willed his massive vault with all his money to the Angry Guys. He was always a man of great taste and enjoyed the Angry Guys so much when we wrote for the Wilson Statesman that he wanted to make sure that we would have all the money we ever needed so that we could focus all of our energies to writing these fantastic pieces for you, the adoring public.( However after several trips to Vegas, and countless parties with Mike Tyson, we found ourselves in worse financial shape then the NHL. ) We decided to lock ourselves in the vault and get to work, fueled by King Size Double Cheeseburger meals and Jack Daniel's Whiskey (What spinach is to Popeye, JD is to Sean). Things went well for about a year, with the Angry Guys producing masterpiece after masterpiece of fine crafted angry prose when the smell of money began to get to our magnificently large heads. Arguments were had, looks were exchanged and faces were made, culminating in the argument of all arguments in which, after debating for months who was the better Division II football mascot, Kyle spontaneously combusted and destroyed most of the vault. Only being able to reconcile at the beginning of last year, we Angry Guys made a promise never to visit the Vault again, locking up some of our best works ever. We finally got the courage to send Jacob our Stat Wizard to the vault to search the charred remains. Amidst all of the empty whiskey bottles and Burger King wrappers he found these pieces of goodness safely tucked behind a half charred Raef LaFrentz cardboard cut-out.
It's like this boys & girls, as you all know we Angry Guys are highly regarded amongst most pro sports possies. We have our own ringtone on LeBron's phone, we often hit the links with Chuck and D-Wade and there has been more then one occasion when a high out of his mind Michael Phelps has called us needing our opinion on which brand of cereal would best cure the munchies ( because it clearly ain't Wheaties. ) Needless to say folks, we have some pull. When the best of the best have a problem, we are the first call. Without further ado we offer up a few of the lost masterpieces most recently pulled from the ashes.


Circa 2007:

The landscape of professional sports was changed for ever last week when the New York Post broke a story about alleged gambling in the ranks of NBA officials. While this article mostly berated one specific official named Tim Donaghy, it also spoke of a culture deep seeded in the heart of the NBA. It's one we all saw night in and night out, yet none of us knew just how deep down the rabbit hole it went. Lucky for all of you readers out there in lala land we just had to give ol' Tim a call and he was more then willing to sit down with the two of us and give an exclusive interview. We laughed, he cried, we laughed some more, and now here it is for your pleasure:

AG: "So Tim we have known you for most of your thirteen year NBA officiating career, and while we have talked a lot of shit about you or made jokes regarding your eyesight and its likeness to that of a bat, we never took you for a cheater."

TD: "Errrrrr, thanks?"

AG: " So lets talk facts here Tim. You have spent 25 years of your life officiating basketball in some form or another, and you have always been near the fire or holding the matches. In the past 5 years you have now been involved with two of the biggest and most tragic events to hit the NBA. You were there during the Malice at the Palace and to be honest we aren't quite convinced you didn't throw the diet coke at Ron Artest yourself in hopes of keeping the score around the spread. Then we find out that you placed tens of thousands of dollars in bets on games during the 2005–06 and 2006–07 season, whats up with that?

TD: " Listen I'm not sure who you guys are or how you managed to bypass my security and get into my house, but I don't have anything to say on this matter until after the trial. Also are those homemade press badges you two are wearing?"

AG: You listen here fellow, we are not the ones on trial. We ask the questions round here."

TD: "But this is my house...."

AG: "Tim if you are going to be like this, then we will just have to get a hold of some of those low level mobsters we saw sitting parked in front of the house on our way in."

TD gets up and peeks through the shades: " I don't see anybody out there aside from two pink bikes with tassels. Do those belong to the "mobsters" or you guys?

AG: "Well its starting to look like this interview isn't going anywhere, we just have one last question and we would really appreciate if you could speak very clearly and direct it towards our chests?"

TD: " Wait are you two fuckers wearing wires right now?"

AG " Language not appreciated, but we will let it slide. Is there any chance you could just let us know who is going to win the championship this year? We are headed to Vegas in a few weeks, and could really use a hot tip. Anything?"

At this point Mr. Donaghy pointed us towards the door and asked us to leave. We may never fully know the truth, of course he wont have full control of his legs after The Mob is done with him.


Circa 2008:

We got this letter from the Jenny Craig corporation when we acted as Charles Barkley's agent for about a week and a half two years ago. Charles had sent them a letter asking them about their program and this their response.

Mr. Charles Barkley, Thank you for your interest in joining our company as a spokesperson. Of course we are always delighted to have our celebrity clients share their stories of weight loss with our customers, especially those of your massive girth. While we would love to have you join the team we feel there are a few things we should clear up. First, we're not sure who you spoke with but we do not have an "All Bacon and Grits" diet plan. Sorry that you were misinformed but both of those foods actually help you GAIN weight instead of losing it. We're sure that you can move your passion for those foods to more healthy options like carrots and whole wheat bread! Secondly, those "whores on the T.V" that you talk about in your letter are actually our current spokeswomen. We are positive that Kirsti and Valarie will not be interested in doing the "Sir Charles Sex Shuffle" with you and we're certainly not going to recommend they put on "20 or 30 pounds of cushion for the pushin" that you feel is necessary. Again, the whole point of our program here at Jenny Craig is losing weight and becoming more healthy. Who knows, maybe getting into shape will help that golf swing of yours... sorry, we couldn't help ourselves! We hope that you'll grab the bull by the horns (no, this is not a pun about you never beating the Bulls during your playing days) and lose the weight you gained when you ate Steve Kerr. You'll be helping us as well; a public image firm recently told us to bring on a male spokesperson and, if you pass, we'll have to go with our backup plan and bring on Jason "I'll always be George Costanza" Alexander. No one wants to see that Charles, no one. We look forward to hearing from you!

Sincerely, The People at Jenny Craig


Circa 2005:

We got this email from a friend of a friend who was hacking into Jose Conseco's email account. He wants to stay anonoymus so we'll change his name around. Thanks Mrian BcNamee!

Big Mac, Where were you yesterday buddy? We were supposed to be shooting the cover of my new book "Juiced"! Remember, we agreed to take the photo where you were bending over and I was injecting you with that novelty size hypodermic needle I got from the Jersey shore last summer? Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now. This was YOUR plan all along. You came to me and said "Dude, the Bash Bros need a TV show. Let's write a book about when we did steroids and smacked dingers all day and then call out all of the other players who we knew juiced!" You said we'd make millions because whistle blowers are all the rage now and that people would love us again. That's all I want Big Mac, I want people to love me! I'm beginning to believe this is a set up. I'm still waiting for you to finish up your section of the book, don't you think you should have finished that already? I mean, if you don't get it in soon they're just going to publish my part. Don't you think a book with just my side of the story would make me look like an asshole taking advantage of you? Also, I'm starting to think that just having my name on the book might be a bad thing. I can't think of any reason you wouldn't want to be a visible part of this! I was talking to McNamee and he said I was getting paranoid. He said I should probably stop taking the roids, that using them for this long might start making me crazy. Crazy?!? Is it crazy to want to look this good? So what if the last time I saw my balls was when Clinton was president, I've gotta get my swell on! Mac Attack, I hope you're not planning on letting me do this solo. I told you if I don't get a big payday from this I'll have to start fighting celebs for money. That's SO beneath me... Look, I've rescheduled the shoot for next week. Just make sure you're there and bring some of that new Andro gel you've been raving about.

Later. Your Pretty Steroid Princess, Jose


Circa 2009:

Sticking with topics close to our hearts, and about subjects we care deeply about, we were thrilled when our old friend Michael Phelps sent us the rough draft of a letter he was composing in retaliation to being dropped as a sponsor for the Wheaties brand. Ever since that photo was snapped of him taking a massive lap around the bong he has wanted his side heard. Soo:

Dear Wheaties,

Special K is a much better product. It offers all the energy and nutrition I need without forcing me to lie to my fans. If I want to enjoy an occasional bong rip after winning 8 gold medals, then who are you to judge? Sure it suddenly makes sense why I intake 15,000 calories a day, but it doesn't make sense why you would drop me so suddenly. You have to look at what could have been. Today's kids are all about the sugary cereal, nobody wants the health food crap. They want sugar, sugar, and more sugar; sometimes accompanied by a goofy mascot. You already had gold, what's goofier than my face? Right now, you don't even have a mascot for the company. Nothing says champion like a drawing of a grown man in speedo's enjoying a bowl of Wheaties. Imagine the cartoon commercials of me racing past Tony the Tiger, or me out swimming the Cheerio's bee in a pool of honey. Come on, how good would that be? Well, we will never know. Speaking of cereal I have a really bad case of the munchies right now..... I wonder if Taco Bell is open this late...... This screen saver on my mac is so pretty, the colors......... Did I mention that I won 8 gold medals.........I'm getting kinda sleepy now, so I better wrap this up...... In closing your company will live to regret this as I have just signed a mega-deal with with Frankenberry cereal brand. They didn't even have to change the logo, just a picture of me with two bolts glued on now. So suck on that for a while, while I suck down my bowl of sugary milk. MMMMMM, victory.

Sincerely-Michael K. Phelps


As you can see, over the years we have helped out a lot of our friends. Sometimes it requires burying a dead hooker in the desert after Tiger calls you up at 3 AM, sometimes its as simple as giving someone a shoulder to cry on because the roids are really messing with them( It's ok Barry, it happens to everyone.) Except us of course. No problem to big, no friend to small. A friend in need is a friend indeed. So until next time, Yamabethur.

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Once in a decade

For those who have followed our careers from our humble beginnings in the halls of ol' WHS, to those who have just recently embraced the dark side and discovered the anger and glory of our practices, we thank you. 10 years ago, the two of us didn't even know each other, now we are smoking stogies and enjoying a ballgame or killing a hooker together nearly every weekend. (Just kidding everyone, we only Dexter hobo's). It has been a year full of surprises, but even more so, it has been an amazing decade in the wide world of sports. From records considered unbreakable, to moments every sports fan would love to call a mulligan on. We have all laughed, cried, jumped for joy, and even at times vomited in our own mouths. We are actually doing two of the four right now while we think about how Tom Brady has spent the past 10 years. Gisele and Bridget Moynahan. WTF!?! On that unfair note, we submit to you, in some sort of order, our top 10 most important and life changing sports moments of the past decade. Why post this in the new decade you may ask? Because you can’t truly look back on the decade until that decade is done… and we’re lazy.


1.) Tiger Woods: Man, Golf God, Sex Machine

It would be impossible for us to do this piece without mentioning the Associated Press' Athlete of the decade. However, due to a recent restraining order we were served after our last article, we cannot really go into this subject in any great detail. But let us just say this, no Modern athlete has transformed their collective sport more than Tiger. He made it cool to watch golf, and he was winning every title in sight while arm pumping and swooshing his way to victory. In June 1999, Woods won the Memorial Tournament, a win that marked the beginning of one of the greatest sustained periods of dominance in the history of men's golf. He completed his 1999 campaign by winning his last four starts—including the PGA Championship—and finished the season with eight wins, a feat not achieved in the past 25 years. So the question has to be asked; will Tiger's recent "transgressions" forever tarnish his image as the greatest golfer known to man since Pappy O' Daniels was hitting stones in the 1800's or will he come back stronger then ever and make us all enjoy a dish of crow pie?

2.) The Poster Boy and Face of the NFL. Manning vs. Brady

Two men have stood like Titans over the game of football for the better part of this decade; Tom Brady and Peyton Manning. Both are statistically superior to most every other quarterback in league history and yet they've gone about it in two completely different ways. A sixth round compensatory pick with the looks of a GQ model vs. a home-fed country boy who looks like Dawson's Creek gone country. One comes into the draft knowing his value, and doing whatever it takes to become the #1 overall pick. The other is so unsure of his abilities that he actually hired a sports psychologist to help him cope with frustration and anxiety and even considered transferring to Cal. Manning is one of only two three-time NFL MVP's and was in arguably one of the best athlete related skits in SNL history ( If you haven't seen the guy's acting chops, just stop reading and watch anything on YouTube with Peyton in it. You will poop yourself). Brady? Let's just say that Manning has more class then to pretend he's a cowboy and sell hundred dollar perfume. You see, what Peyton has had to earn his entire life, Brady has had handed to him on a silver platter. (Aside from the whole almost going undrafted thing). Frankenstein Dawson has had to overcome a lot. His father is one of the best collegiate QB's of all time, his younger and uglier brother has been nipping at his heals his whole life, and did we mention he is hideous? And yet he has a fire in his belly which drove him to tell Indianapolis executives that if they didn't draft him #1 he was going to spend the next 15 years kicking their ass. Wow... The last time Tom Brady made a threat along those lines was when a Starbucks barista got his double whip, half-caf, soy infused frapalattechino order wrong. Talk about throwing a hissy fit. This guy makes the Olsen twins seem butch. Peyton has been a consistent killer in the regular season, making the people he plays with not only look good but look HALL OF FAME good. Take, for example, Edgerrin James. He was a superstar in Indy because the threat of a Peyton manning bomb to the end zone made opposing defenses play off the line. SUPPOSEDLY a great running back, Edge went to Arizona and played with the likes of Matt Leinart and got his ass kicked out of the league. Without Manning's superb control of the game, the holes dried up for Edge like water in the Arizona desert and he couldn't cut it (Granted, playing with Matt Leinert as a running back is like finding out you have terminal cancer; the end is sooner than you think). Who's career has Brady elevated? Well lots of people, but that’s not really the point now is it? Sure he took the NFL's poster boy of bad behavior Randy Moss and made him a pro bowler, and alright so his # 1 receiver the past 2 years has been a guy shorter then Papa Smurf. But do those really make him the best of the best? Can you really respect a guy who carries around an Indiana Jones man purse and has his tips frosted on a weekly basis? This is football we are talking about, not book club with the church ladies. While neither Peyton Manning or Tom Brady can come close to dethroning Joe Montana as the greatest quarterback in the history of the game, we give the edge to Peyton just because we can't give anything more to a guy who dates and knocks up a supremely beautiful woman only to dump her and knock up another supremely beautiful woman. It just ain't fair...

3.) Testicular and Brain Cancer Survivors Wing

We are going to take a trip into Imaginationland for this part folks. Let's all just close our eyes, and imagine the light stylings of Sade serenading us to a better place. Are you here with us? Good, now pretend for a moment that you just found out you not only have brain cancer but a nice bit of testicular cancer to top it off. Hold on a moment, take the gun out of your collective mouths. Life is not over as you know it. It turns out that is the best thing to ever happen to you. Not only will you live a long and happy life where you go on to produce four children with two different woman, nail Sheryl Crow, and be featured in a big budget Vince Vaughn movie but you actually go on to become the most recognizable person to ride a Bicycle since......ahh hell who are we kidding, naming another famous bicyclist is like trying to name all the Baldwin brothers. Just can't be done. So you lose part of your manhood, then go on to win your sports most coveted award 7 times in a row. That's like the opposite of Barry Bond's career (Ed. Note: Kyle was punched in the kidney for writing about Bonds outside of a baseball article). One of the downsides is that you have to hang out with losers like Robin Williams (Latin name: Harrious Knucleum Maximus) and Matthew "Beef's what's for dinner" McConaughey. Yet, all of this is not the one thing most people will remember about Sir Lancelot; it's those god damn yellow Livestrong bracelet that everyone and their grandmothers had for a while. Nike, we mean (cough, cough) charity must have made millions off those things! It spawned four copy cats, then Sham wow and then the Snuggie. It went viral. Think about this though. For almost the better part of this decade we were glued to the TV during Tour de France time, actually sometimes watching it on the VS network (We know, you're ashamed of us). With Lance out of it, though, no one gives a shit about cycling anymore. The reason we bring this up is that cycling's most comparable televised sport, golf, just lost their superstar for an indefinite period of time while he tries to remember what it feels like to have sex with someone married to him. Could we be on the cusp of no one giving a shit about golf anymore? We think we're already there. Ain't no one trying to watch a final matchup between Lefty and Padraig. If you know who we're talking about then you know we're right. In conclusion, Lance Armstrong is the most Bad Ass MOFO since Arnold showed up naked at the beginning of T2.

4.) America's Past time, Stickball 101

If you have made it this far through the article, we salute you. You are a true fan, and have deep anger burning inside you. Come to think of it, you might want to get that checked out, but we digress. Any die hard sports fan has one topic that we would all rather never get mentioned. For one half of this due, we are talking about the horrible mess surrounding baseball and its "shocking" steroid use. While we understand this all started a few years before this generation began, it would be unfair to say all the blame belongs on the huge lumberjack shoulders of Mark "Big Mac" McGwire and Swingin' Sammy. For a few years there we saw players the size of jockeys averaging 40 home runs, and pitchers coming back from Tommy John surgery 2 weeks after the procedure (We are looking at you Brian Roberts. You’re like the size of the kids in Honey I shrunk the kids.). As usual, nobody wanted to accept the truth. Who didn't want to see Barry Bonds not only hit 73 home runs in a single season, but break Hank Aaron's all-time career home run record? Even if you were a Bond's hater, you still want to see history being made during your lifetime. People try to make Bond's out to be the big head of the steroids era (pun very much intended. Get it, his head was huge.) However, now we all must deal with the black eye left on America's past time. Speaking of black eyes in baseball, how about that dickwad Alex Rodriguez? While watching his admission special hosted by Peter Gammons( you will be missed ), we weren't sure what was more offensive, him speaking broken English while he cried his eyes out, or the fact that he did so while wearing a Mr. Rogers sweater. Bitch, we don't want to be your neighbor, maybe Kate Hudson, but not you. Worst of all, the year after he admits steroid use, and god punishes him by breaking his hip the baseball gods shower him with a World Series title. Now folks, get ready for a wild ride, because we are about to once and for all decide who is the greater super power in the world of Major League Baseball. (Note: This section will also be HGH free.) For all those member of Red Sox Nation out there with the raging hard-ons and Yankees suck shirts, we hear you. The Curse has been broken, and you won two championships within 3 years of each other. Hazaaa! After years, and years, and years of disappointment, no other fan base was more deserving than you. Each decade you had multiple tragic events prevent you from reaching the top of the baseball world. For example: Bucky "f@*#ing" Dent's hommer in 1978, who could forget '86 with the legendary Bill Buckner play, or in '03 when it became Aaron "f@*#ing" Boone. After 86 years though, it finally happened. You had an all-star team for a roster, and finally did what we had all hoped and dethroned the Yankee's. Speaking of evil empires back on the rise, how about them Yankees? The 2009 payroll was just a smidge over $192,000,000. That’s right everyone, count all them zeros. When you employ the best of the best and pay them more than anyone can offer because there is no rule against it, should we really celebrate you winning? That's like cheering for the non-disabled person participating in the special Olympics, sure a win’s a win but have you no shame? Not to mention, as soon as a player dons pinstripes they immediately become dirty and tainted. We thought pin stripes were supposed to have a slimming effect, instead, half of New York thought thanksgiving was early when they saw the group of kids walking C.C. out to the mound like a Macy's balloon. You may have the most titles of all time, legions of loyal fans, and billions of dollars to waste each year, but you are no team of the decade. If you think its anyone other than the Red Sox, you are crazier then Don Zimmer the day he charged Pedro like an angry senile bull.

5.) The Beijing Olympics: The Most Amazing Thing China Has Done Since P.F Changs

When deciding which Olympics to choose as the best we quickly eliminated the Aussies. Sydney was too close to the past millennium and, let's get real, if Michael Phelps isn't dominating in it it's not a real Olympics. That left us with Athens and Beijing (The Winter games are NOT Olympics); honestly a tough decision. In the end though, the ancestral home of the games just couldn't compete with the jaw dropping production value of the Beijing games (We're pretty sure Michael Bay had something to do with the opening ceremony) and the epic American victories that followed. Let us recap a little of what made the Beijing Olympics so gosh darn spectacular. Firstly, if you weren't blown away by the Opening ceremony you either A.) Didn't watch it or B.) Get violently sick by watching amazing shows of visual brilliance or C.) Didn't watch it. If you fall under the A or C category, go to the nearest computer and set aside 40 minutes to watch the entire thing, NOW. We're not going anywhere, just go! For those of you who fall under category B, go to the tallest building close to you and jump off the roof because you've missed an event so fundamental to the current human condition that you're like that guy who never got the message that cars were invented. End your horse and buggy existence friends because that show changed the way we live our lives. Like a laser light show on baseball sized steroids, the Beijing opening ceremony was freaking amazing and, what made it even better, was that China said "You know what, we've got 1.6 billion people in our country, why not put EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM in show?" What we got was insane coordinated drumming, 20,000 fireworks, floating montages of China's history and, again, billions and billions of Chinese all dressed to the nine doing the craziest things imaginable for our viewing pleasure. Simply marvelous. It made us wonder if we Americans could pull off a coordinated event of that magnitude, but we are all far to ADD to pull off anything close to an event like that. There'd be that ONE drummer who would have to break the third wall and wave to the camera. It probably would have been you, it probably would have been us; the one thing that we do know is that when Americans get a shot at their fifteen minutes, they take it (Looking at you Jon Gosslein… Oh and we ordered fries with that burger, not onion rings). When it was all over, you kind of forgot that this was the OPENING for something and not the main event. When the dust settled and the LSD subsided, we got into our chairs and watched ourselves some sport competition.
The Redeem team won over our hearts like no Olympic basketball team has since the Dream. We won, so of course we loved it but what was so great was the fact that we beat some actual competition. A Spanish team lead by Horseface McGee (Pau Gasol), Horceface McGee Jr. (Marc Gasol), Rudy and the Golden Child Ricky Rubio definitely gave our boys a run for their money but the unstoppable tandem of D Wade and apparently the best international 5 there is, Lebron James, sent them back to Madrid with only their Gucci glasses and fancy European sports cars to keep them from crying. It didn't help us though, we bawled like babies when the medal ceremony came on at 3 in the morning. America's got the basketball gold again! Welcome home...

6.) Half-man, Half machine or 100% Dolphin boy?

Ok, Michael Phelps, before he turned into a walking public service warning against smoking weed was a freaking stud in the water. They were actually considering making a biography about his life titled: Mermen, but had to postpone production after he was caught taking bong rips bigger than half the Chinese swimming team. In retrospect, it may have been blown slightly out of proportion considering what the boy did in the pool. With 37 world records (29 individual, 8 relay) as of August 2nd, 2009, Phelps has set more records than any other swimmer in history, surpassing Mark Spitz's previous record of 33 world records (26 individual, 7 relay). He doesn't need any fancy Nike or Speedo brand shark skin suits to make him swim better or faster. He just uses the world’s largest set of lungs ever given out, (aside from those of Willie Nelson and Rickey Williams) to swim past any person, large sea mammal, or shellfish stupid enough to challenge him. He won races by a mile; he won races by 0.01 seconds, and prompted the Serbian delegation to file a protest. When they slowed it down to frames shot 1/10,000th of a second apart all that was proved was that his arm began to stretch out and touch the wall like Michael Jordan at the end of Space Jam. Not only was the entire world treated to the second coming of Aqua Man, but we were also given the joy of seeing a man so fast that he could talk smack with his hands all the while embarrassing every other runner in the lanes. Usain Bolt was quicker than a fifth grader’s recess. Aqua Man and The Flash in one Olympics? How's that not gonna make the list? P.S. can you think of a more entertaining smoke session than Michael Phelps, The Angry Guys, Willie Nelson, and Rickey Williams?

7.) The Malice at Auburn Palace

There is a legend that speaks of a child who was as strong as an Ox but also as obnoxious as an ass. Given over to a deeply secluded monastery in the small hamlet of New York by his family, the boy was entrusted to a circle of Monks adhering to the ancient arts of the mystical Harlem Globetrotters. They were excellent teachers of the basketball arts, crafting the child into an unstoppable offensive and defensive force. However, when the child would act out they would punish him by administering the "Low Calorie Cola Face Slap", essentially throwing cup after cup of Diet Coke into his face until the child relented and apologized. Little did those venerable monks know that what they were doing to the child they called Ron-Ron would deeply scar him for life and set off a set of cataclysmic events which would culminate into the single greatest shitstorm ever caught on live TV until Kanye West became famous. Yes people, we're talking about the Brawl at Auburn Hills. Probably the greatest thing about the brawl was that Artest went after the wrong guy at first. The definition of an "Oh Shit" face must have a picture of this guy the second before Artest takes his head off with a haymaker straight to the jaw. Never before had anything remotely close to what happened at the palace taken place within professional sports and, as fans, we Angry Guys couldn't get enough. It was like watching your favorite sitcom live on network TV when, all of the sudden, one of the actors starts drunkenly improvising while all the other cast members just look confused and try to go along with it. Pure television gold. The icing on the cake was listening to the commentators trying to balance their "oh my god what a disgrace" remarks with their natural sportscaster instincts to start giving a detailed blow by blow like it was a heavyweight title fight. Sadly, the only athlete to get his ass handed to him by a fan was our own Freddie Jones of Duck fame who was annihilated by David Wallace, the brother of Piston's center Ben Wallace. Ben Wallace is a big guy but his brother is even BIGGER which meant that High Flyin Freddie really never had a chance. Unfortunately because David Stern can't afford to have another heart explode in his chest like it did that night, the NBA has made changes to prevent fan/player skirmishes from ever happening. Too bad, because that fight was the last competitive battle we've seen on an Eastern conference court in a long time.



8.) The Decade of the Thug in Sport

Yes, the thuggery in sports is one of the top moments of the decade. Some of you are probably thinking "why aren't they talking about that Boise State guy proposing to his girlfriend the cheerleader?" or “why don't they consider the Winter Olympics a sporting event; I liked Salt Lake City!" Some of you are also probably at the wrong website. If you want cheesy feel good sports stories about people overcoming adversity or puppies playing D-II basketball get your ass over to ESPN. It's got Rick Reilly's over-the-hill articles that read like "Dear Abby" and "Men of a Certain Age" had a boring ass baby and SportsNation; a show devoted solely to telling you what you like about sports. Seriously. If you know sports, then you already know what we're talking about and you aren't afraid of going to the dark side. We ain't talkin about practice. Mike Vick gets alot of the heat as the poster child for thuggery in sports today and while most of it is deserved; let us give some credit to the forefathers of this brotherhood. Shall we not forget St. Pacman Jones; the man who made it rain dollar bills and bullets whenever he wanted. He spat on women, drove cars impounded for trafficking cocaine, and beat up strippers who tried to collect the money he threw at them. Pacman was a habitual line stepper who's sad story led him to the Winnipeg Blue Bombers (Believe us, this is what happens when all the good names are already taken) only to lose the gig when he confused the Canadian Football league with the Ultimate Football League. Jeez, how could he do that... Nor can we forget Sir. Maurice Clarett. Unlike Pacman, Maurice did insanely retarded things like robbing people without the guaranteed money cushion of a 1st round draft pick. Instead, he gave up close to half a million in guaranteed money for a contract loaded with incentives for achieving ridiculously difficult feats like multiple seasons with over 1000 yards and removing his underwear without taking his pants off. That's not really thuggish but it is freaking retarded. Poor Maurice is currently serving time in prison so, while he qualifies for grand thug status, we can't say he started the trend. We must go back further. We will, however, give him credit for starting the bullet proof vest look for athletes which is something he probably picked up from his buddy Suge Knight. Better than Vick or even Maurice and Pacman are a couple of the Angry Guys best pals. One graduated from our great alma mater Woody Wilson High, the other graduated from the bottoms of our heart. They defined an era with bright yellow hummers and headbands, bringing Portland's great basketball tradition to the breaking point. So much talent and oh so many great memories that have nothing to do with basketball. We are, of course, talking about the late and great Rasheed Wallace and Damon Stoudemire. Of course the Jailblazers started this whole trend. Sheed set one of the most untouchable records in sports at 38 technicals and then, in 2000, HE BREAKS HIS OWN RECORD and drops 41 unforgettable tantrum moments on us that each resulted in the opposing team getting a free throw. When you have two special players like that on sour roster, you know you are in for a few fun and unpredictable seasons. Sure Sheed hated every moment he spend in Portland, but wont we all look back fondly on his time spent in P-town?. From staying in the parking lot 2 hours after a game just so you can threaten the life of an elderly official, to throwing a towel in the face of our one moral player: Arvydas Sabonis in his final playoff game as a Blazer. We may not remember the titles or lack there off, but we will always have the memories of Raweed and Mighty Mouse.

9.) The 2003 NBA Draft

We were juniors in High School at the time but we already knew more about sports than pretty much anyone else in the history of sports or people. So when we started getting excited about the importance of the 2003 NBA draft, we got everyone else pumped about it as well. For a moment there it looked like we had even given Gordon Gund his sight back, but alas it wasn't meant to be. He had to instead settle for a King. The class was star studded and there were quite a few teams at the top (Cleveland, Miami, Toronto and of course the goddamn Clippers) that desperately needed an influx of talent. Included were players of every sort; uber-talented high schoolers, one and done college superstars, mysterious foreign 7 footers and college upperclassmen that had the game and the maturity to take off right away in the league. The biggest debate us Angry Guys were having at the moment other than should we or should we not eat cookies off the ground was who should go #1? There were only two players in this discussion and each had the potential to be not only team changers but league changers. Lebron James and Darko Milicic... Now while most of you were probably expecting Dwayne Wade or Carmelo Anthony, the consensus at the time was that this was a two man draft between Darko and Lebron. Everyone now knows why Cleveland picked Lebron; the man is the son of Zeus and beasts people without effort every night with his creepy blend of size and athleticism. Darko, however, was the more refined player. He was huge ( 7 foot, 275) and had the shooting stroke of Reggie Miller. League execs who went over to Serbia (this is how good they thought this MoFo was going to be; they traveled to a warzone to watch him practice) came back convinced there was nothing this guy couldn't do. He physically overpowered everyone he played against and there wasn't a place on the floor he couldn't score from (of course we all know now he was playing against Serbian midgets in those practices). Our conversation at school was, quite literally, this: Lebron will sell more tickets because of his popularity but Darko will (pause, wait for it...) end up being the better player over time because of his skill set... Even though he was the FIRST of the that class to win a championship ring, we'll admit that in the long term Lebron will probably be the better player. But the beauty of this draft was not that it contained the best future player in the league but that it contained 3 or 4 of the best future players in the league. For god’s sake 4 of the top 5 picks are NBA All-Stars and members of the Redeem team. The 2003 draft class has drawn comparisons to the legendary 1984 and 1996 NBA Draft classes. Only time will tell how this one turns out, but from what we have so far it looks like we are in for another glorious decade of hardwood classics.

10.) The Series Which Must not be Named

Every true blazer fan knows of a time when they cried their eyes out. A time when their hearts were torn from their chests by an overweight D-List actor and a lip-licking snake who raped people. We are talking about the day when fun died in Portland, June 4th 2000. Nothing in this sporting decade has even come close to game 7 of the Western Conference Finals in terms of sheer pain inflicted. Now, just to clarify, we are the Angry Guys and not the Guys who Cry at Everything and Anything. However, after that game both of us looked like Latrell Sprewell two years after he rejected a multi-million dollar contract from the Timberwolves and was standing in the line for unemployment; covered in tears. Let's set the stage, shall we, for the uninitiated. The 1999-2000 Blazers had a great team of role players and good character guys who worked together in perfect harmony to dominate opponents. You had Brian "I lead my own army" Grant, Steve "I've never seen a puppy I didn't have to stop and hug" Smith, Damon "Can I get a headband" Stoudamire and Arvydas "I'm getting WAY too old for this shit" Sabonis. Mix in a dominant Rasheed Wallace and the league's ultimate sidekick Scottie Pippen and you had the recipe for some fun basketball. Remember that there really was no star on this team (no one averaged more than 17 points a game) and that the West was INCREDIBLY more talented and competitive than the East. Everyone knew that whichever team won the West would roll over a Pacers team protected in the frontcourt by Rik Smits and Dale Davis. Battling back from a 3-1 deficit, the Blazers forced a game 7 in LA and played their hearts out. Leading by 15 points with ten minutes to go, the Blazers had almost assured that Arvydas Sabonis' wife would be getting her 18th DUI driving back from a Western Champs celebration party. Alas, it was not the case and Ms.Sabonis had to stay sober. The mitigating factor for the Blazers was that they had no superstar to lean on in the clutch. Steve Smith had 18 in the game but went 3-10 in the 4th. Pippen had 12 in the game but disappeared from the game in the 4th, apparently looking for Michael Jordan to win a game for him. The Lakers didn't have this problem. Kobe and Shaq eviscerated our hapless blazers with a little help from Ron Harper and jump started a decade of Laker's Suck chants from the entire population of Portland by Alley-Ooping on our hopes and dreams. A 20-9 run in the 4th and a final score of 89-84... The kicker to this sweet story was that this loss marked the beginning of the Jail Blazer era when we had to deal with the likes of Reuban Patterson, Bonzi Wells and Zach Randolph blacking out and spitting on our great franchise until the later part of the decade. Just know this Shaq and Kobe; we might respect you as great players but wherever you are just know that there at least two insanely Angry Guys out there who hate your guts. Some day we will find you, incapacitate you and destroy your minds by forcing you to watch and rewatch Steel. Until then we will have to live with the pain of watching you guys destroy our championship dreams. It might not be nice but the 2000 Western Conference Finals was one of the top moments of this past decade.



On that note, we are out. Happy New Year, fa la la la la, and all that other junk. It's nap time, and we can’t wait to go try out our new matching snuggies.

All we want for Christmas is Tiger Woods wife......

On Friday, November 27th 2009, we, the American people, faced a tragedy the likes of which we had never seen before. We lost a champion, an icon, a statuesque god among mere mortal boys. At 2:25 AM the Tiger Woods we all knew and loved died. It was not the death we had all envisioned for him. It was not him reaching out for God's hand as he ascended towards heaven like in Michelangelo’s "The Creation Of Adam". Instead it was an unexpected car crash that ended up sending him to the great beyond. RIP Tiger, for the man we once thought as great, the man we loved, is gone forever. In an age where colorful young men rule the front pages and award show ceremonies, Tiger Woods stood tall as the one true champion. Always with grace and dignity, Tiger represented all that was good. The ever present family man, with his picture perfect clan of baby Tigers; they could do no wrong. Since his formative young days putting against Bob Hope in a live television event on the Mike Douglas Show in 1978, to the four consecutive Junior World Golf Championships he won from '88-'91 he had always given the public what they wanted; a White Knight. ( No pun intended. ) White America had finally found a young black athlete it could believe in. For god's sake his nickname at Stanford was Urkel. Urkel! And that's nerdy white people calling him that!

Tiger's golf skill gave him the opportunity to fundamentally change that plaid pant wearing, country club loving, last bastion for race and gender discrimination we like to call golf forever by being the uppity black kid they couldn't ignore. Imagine this: instead of being raised by his father Tiger is raised by Spike Lee; instead of ranting and raving on the course when he misses a shot he channels that rage towards the Man in the form of racially charged post game interviews. He only wears African clothes on the course, converts to Islam, changes his name to Tiger Ali Hussein and burns every Green jacket he receives, live on TV, giving the Masters committee a collective heart attack every year. Why would he do such a thing? Because until 1975, no African American had ever played on Augusta national's course and even then it took them another 15 years to get their first Black member (admitted only because the PGA was banning clubs who didn't have one Minority or woman as a member). But, of course, Tiger was not raised by Spike "White people exist only to play evil landlords or racist pizza joint owners in my movies" Lee and became every white golf fan's dream; a Black superstar that worked with the establishment to bring golf to new heights. Hell before Tiger joined the tour, I bet you any general sports fan couldn't even name 5 other golfers on tour. Now we have an entire Wikipedia page dedicated to his caddie. Steve Williams should wake up with Tigers balls in his mouth every morning ready to give them a real nice shine. If he doesn't, then he damn sure isn't doing his job right. For gods sake, the caddy prior to him taking the position was nicknamed Mike "Fluff" Cowan and as we now know, Tiger needs a lot of Fluffing....

The Tiger we all came to know and love was first introduced to us in August, 1996. With a "Hello World", and signed endorsement deals worth $40 million from Nike, Inc. and $20 million from Titleist Young Eldrick never looked back. Since that fateful summer day, he has produced 14 Major Championships, 91 Professional wins, 2 picture perfect children, and a butt load of other stats to make white America fall in love with him. He played a white mans game, in a white mans world as a black man. Even in our current PC culture that’s asking for issues... And it was all good too, until Tiger went out and pulled a Kobe

To Pull a Kobe: Definition: 1. To create an image that centers around your wholesomeness and family first mentality only to go and fuck that all up by cheating on your wife and/or raping someone. Originally called the 'Reuban Patterson Two Step", the act was renamed for Kobe because of his epic sleaziness in dealing with the allegations. To pull a proper Kobe, one must attempt to reconcile with your wife by giving her outlandish things, such as Kobe did with a $7 million diamond the size of a Ring Pop. 2. Lesser used definition: Any action that causes you to lick your lips repeatedly in an annoying way i.e. "Hey Randy, stop pulling a Kobe and use a fucking napkin to get that BBQ sauce off your face."

Yes, Tiger most definitely pulled a Kobe and has now set the bar to new and unseen heights. Not only did he cheat on his wife with more girls (6... no 7... no wait, now it's 8... oh shit wait they just found a set of Siamese twins he banged so that's 10?) but he also went out of his mind with a 75 MILLION dollar contract just to keep his wife from leaving his ass. 75 million... Wow Tiger, you done fucked up real bad. And here's the worst part, the American public is just beginning to get their greasy little hands on you and your personal life and they are not happy. Rick Reilly, too old to have any pop culture references that make sense except to people who watch "Men of a Certain Age" but certainly someone who has his fingers on the pulse of angry, White America says it best, "His image, his likeability, his hero factor were in the clouds. He was the kid with the 10,000-watt smile from the public golf course -- he brought golf to people of color all over the world. He was the great black hope of the game who made good. A golfer? With two young kids at home? Alleged to have had affairs with numerous women? The best swinger becoming the biggest swinger? Overnight? Unthinkable!" Beautifully stated Ricky. Tiger went from the billionaire nobody knew to pure tabloid gold faster than you could say Jon Gosslein. And, of course, like all these stories, the trail of indecent bread crumbs leads back to the city of sin, Las Vegas. Has anything of good moral value and wholesomeness ever come from the city of Las Vegas? Keep thinking...... Didn't come up with anything? Good, cause neither could we. It doesn't matter if you are Tiger Woods or Adam "Pacman" Jones, if you are a big time playboy enjoying a weekend in Vegas and making it rain, you better hope nobody around you has a camera phone and a Twitter account.

The real question that begs asking, is after all of this does Tiger even care? Sure he has come out and given us a heartfelt apology, and asked to be left alone while his family heals. But does this really hurt his standing in the public eye? While we all ponder that question, consider this Tiger and his wife own a luxurious 155-ft yacht called “Privacy” that is based in Florida. The $20 million, 6,500 sq ft vessel features a master suite, six staterooms, theatre, gym, Jacuzzi and sleeps 21 people. You really think she's leaving?

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Are you there God? It's us, the Angry Guys.

Dear God,

Why do you hate Greg Oden so much? Why did you have to give him the freakish athletisicm of a once in a decade player, the body of a man that can do nothing else but play basketball, the lovable charm of a teddy bear that talks and the glass bones of that guy Samuel L. Jackson played in Unbreakable? What has Greg done to you in a past life that caused you to give him the gifts of a prodigy and the heart of a lion? Yet just when he begins to figure it out and puts his wobbly parts together, you snatch it away from him like that angry kid in elementary school never invited to anyone's birthday party. ( Think Cartman in Casa Bonita episode.) Seriously, come on! The only other profession he showed any interest in was dentistry and you made his hands too big to fit into anyones mouth but Seabiscuit! So he endures never knowing the joy of performing a root canal and turns to basketball. You give him the face of an 80 year old man with forehead wrinkles big enough to hide Charlie Weis and his $30 million buyout, so he develops a charm which makes him as lovable and cuddly as Snuggles the Downy bear. You break his dominant hand in college and he makes lemonade out of dog shit; he shoots better than 70% at the free throw line WITH HIS LEFT HAND! He comes into the league as the #1overall pick, the final piece of the Trail Blazers' effort to rebuild a franchise that looked like scortched earth after the Jail Blazer era and with a work ethic that cannot be taught. He wants to win 15 rings, dreams of being the greatest center ever and what happens? Two season ending knee injuries, bone spurs in the "healthy" knee and a broken foot that cause him to miss, as of today, 165 of the 246 games he could possibly have played in. And do you know what he said about his latest injury? "It's in God's hands now."... Of all the thing you have put him through and he still trusts you to take care of him? WTF!?!?! Doesn't he realize yet that humanity's purpose in life has been to reach the point where he was born so that you could inflict your omnipresent wrath on him for your divine ultimate joke? Because he can't say it we, the Angry Guys, will and we're sure we speak for all Blazer fans in doing so when we say GO FUCK YOURSELF GOD!

Leave this beautiful (subjectivly speaking of course) creature alone and move on to other cosmically funny events taking place in the universe like Tiger Woods getting whipped by his 95 pound Swedish wife or the NHL (Just let it die already Canada, with global warming on the rise you won't even have ice to play it on in 20 years). Seriously, the joke is played out. Leave Greg Oden alone.

Sincerely, your two biggest fans,

The Angry Guys

(P.S. Thank you for Jessica Alba.....Also, no offense......)


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