Monday Morning Sports Rant: February 28, 2011
Maxim chats with sports blogger Drew Magary, of Deadspin and Kissing Suzy Kolber, about the weekend’s athletic hits and misses.
MF: The Knicks beat the Heat this weekend! So, New York’s problems are pretty much over, right?
bigdaddydrew: Obviously, they aren’t winning the East this year, but it has to be nice if you’re a Knicks fan to know you have the ABILITY to beat good teams now. It’s been a decade since you could say that. They’ll get better year by year now. At least Anthony provides a foundation. Before, it was just trade out shit for more shit until everyone wanted to die.
MF: I dunno, I miss the smooth stylings of Timofey Mozgov.
I just want an excuse to write “Timofey.”
bigdaddydrew: I feel like Anferneee Hardway’s mother named him
I hope he has a brother named Maffew
MF: God, fingers crossed.
MF: College hoops: Louisville upset Pitt. UNC is starting to look more UNC-ish. How do you think the tournament’s shaping up? And will I be able to win the office pool again by ignoring the sport until the night before the bubble teams play and just furiously studying ESPN’s website for 24 hours before submitting my bracket?
bigdaddydrew: Oh yes.
/quickly looks at Top 25 in order to sound somewhat learned about college basketball
The fun thing about the time before the tourney is that you can tell people you “like” a certain team to go deep for completely random reasons and it’ll sound convincing anyway
“I really think Mason could be deja vu all over again.”
MF: I just choose chunks of sentences that come out of Digger Phelps’, Jay Bilas’, and Bob Knight’s mouths and mix them all up into my own incisive analysis.
How does Bob Knight have a job as an analyst, btw?
bigdaddydrew: Because he tied an ESPN producer to a tree and beat him with a stick
MF: He almost seems pissed off to be there.
bigdaddydrew: That’s the charm.
Underneath it all, you know he just wants to explode and murder everyone in the studio.
“How the fuck did I end up here? I used to be a legend, you know. I could stab Myles Brand’s corpse twice.”
Digger Phelps, by the way, is like a sinkhole of logic.
I listen to him and I can hear doors closing in my mind.
MF: Do you watch NASCAR?
bigdaddydrew: I don’t, but I will tell you this… security people at NASCVAR events are the biggest pricks on Earth
Every race has like eighty different access sections, and every one of them is manned by some fat fuck who smiles at you while he dresses you down
“Now just where do you think you’re going? And do you have a pass?”
MF: Have you had to cover NASCAR for work or have you been for fun?
Those things are loud.
Three hours of that is punishing. You may as well set fire to your eardrums
It’s like a bad Lou Reed record
MF: Last topic: Baseball! My beloved Yankees played this weekend. But that’s not important. Did you see this story in the New York Times about Jeter’s house in Tampa?
It is the most awesomely ugly thing I’ve ever seen.
It’s 31,000 square feet with two three-car garages.
bigdaddydrew: That’s amazing
MF: And no yard.
And he had to change a county ordinance or something to erect a six-foot wall around it.
bigdaddydrew: Like, you never expect athletes to have any sense of taste. But of all of them, you’d think at least Jeter would have like a 1% chance of not owning a Doucheseum
MF: I dunno, he only stopped wearing Cosby sweaters like two years ago.
bigdaddydrew: It’s true
bigdaddydrew: Athletes are always like, “Gimme the biggest house EVAR. Air conditioning is free, right?”
He should name the estate
Welcome to Jetersburg
MF: If you had Jeter money, what would you build?
bigdaddydrew: That’s just the thing. Jeter isn’t like a billionaire.
bigdaddydrew: Nic Cage proved you can have $100 million and still go broke by buying breathtakingly stupid real estate. You see that house and you know exactly why all athletes go broke within a decade of leaving sports
He may as well spray paint I’M AN IDIOT on the fucking roof
Anyway, I’d build a cyborg bodyguard.
MF: A cyborg bodyguard to be with you at all times?
bigdaddydrew: That’s right. Don’t fuck with me, or you get the claw.