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Friday, June 08, 2007

SAMMY'S SPORTS SERMONS HAS MOVED

If I was even remotely interweb savvy, I would link anyone that came here to my new site, but this will have to suffice. The address for Sammy's Sports Sermons 2.0 is:

 

www.sammyssportssermons.blogspot.com

CHEERS EVERYONE!!!


The Photos That Dethroned Miss Nevada

Bless her heart, poor Miss Nevada.

nev nev2 nev3 nev4 nev5 nev6

nev7 nev8


Thursday, May 17, 2007

THE ROCKET SINGS

Everyone knows about the Ali-like return of Rocket Roger Clemens to the New York Yankees this season (whenever he feels ready), but not many know during his time off, along with training, the Rocket has been working on his vocals. The first song he plans to release is a cover of an old Dennis Leary classic. I have been lucky enough to snag an updated copy of the lyrics sheet. Feel free to sing or hum along to the tune...

roge

I'm An Asshole : By Roger Clemens

(Spoken)

Folks, I'd like to sing a song about the American League. About me, about you, about the way your American hearts beat way down in the bottom of your chests whenever I'm on the hill. About the special feeling you get in the cockles of your heart, maybe below the cockles, maybe in the subcockle area. Boy do I love subcockles.

(Sung)

I'm just a regular ace, with an above average heater,

I lie around on my couch, in boxer shorts and a wife beaterrog2

I like baseball, gay porno, and books with my stats,

I've got a gigantic house, and at Piazza I throw bats

My wife, and my job, my kids and my Hummer,

Just need a quarter shot of juice, I only work half the summer

Cuz sometimes a full season, just ain't enough, to keep a man like me interested

(oh no) no way (uh-uh)

No I've gotta go whore myself out, at Mr. Steinbrenner's expense

(oh yeah) Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

I pitch really fast, and I'll come up and in,

The only music you'll hear, comes right after chin.....

I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)

I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, such an asshole)can

I use naive owners, and I piss on the fans,

Don't need a Red Sox opinion, be it Schilling or Oil Can's...

I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)

I'm an asshole (He's the worlds biggest asshole)

Sometimes I'll pitch, in a hostile atmosphere,

While ignorant beantowners try to douse me with beer...

I'm an asshole (He's an asshole, what an asshole)

I'm an asshole (He's a real fucking asshole)

Maybe I shouldn't be coming back to pitch,

Manny and Papi might make me their bitch,

But maybe unretiring will go off without a hitch.....

NAAAAH!!!

I'm an asshole (he's an asshole, what an asshole)

I'm an asshole (he's the world's biggest asshole)

(spoken)

Know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna get into my oversized Yankee's uniform, jump in the bullpen cart and try to run over Mike Piazza, then I'm gonna go visit Victor Conte, score a kilo of HGH and ram my face in it, Tony Montana style, right before I play those beantown hicks at Fenway. I'm gonna be so juiced up I'll be throwing 130 miles per hour, right at that Serena Williams headed Manny, yeah!!! And when I'm done mowing down Red Sox I'm gonna flip the whole stadium the bird, then I'm going to Houston to do the same. I'd do it in Toronto too but I don't think anyone would notice or care. You know why, cause I AM THE ROCKET, that's why. Two words....HIGH FUCKIN HEAT, OK. Houston, Toronto, Boston, they can have all the fans they want, they can bring signs and boo, and it won't make a lick of fuckin difference because I've got the high heat, OK. Babe Ruth's not dead, he's frozen, and when we thaw him out, we're gonna eat hot dogs, get drunk and win ball games, we're gonna get Mantle, and Gherig, and a case of fuckin whiskey, and a vat of the Clear and...

(Hey, hey, hey, hey, you know you really are an asshole)

Why don't you just shut up and sing the song pal..                                .rog

(Sung)

I'm an asshole (I'm an asshole, he's an asshole)

I'm an asshole (He's the world's biggest asshole)

A-S-S   H-O  L-E

Everybody A-S-S  H-O  L-E

Ay Ay-Ay Ay-Ay Ay-Ay

Hey all you baseball fans, I'm an asshole....and I'm prouuuuud of it.

 


Friday, April 27, 2007

MOCK DRAFTS AND THE FIRST RULE OF DOGFIGHT CLUB

The First Rule of Dogfight Club Is, You Do Not Talk About Dogfight Club!

This has certainly been a trying off-season for everyones favorite middle finger waving, drug smuggling, run-first quarterback Michael Vick. It appears as though the US Humane Society had been keeping an eye on Vick for a while after constantly hearing his name whispered in regards to illegal dogfights. When a home owned by Vick was raided as part of a drug sting (shocking), police found over 60 dogs, primarily pitbulls, that were malnourished, scarred and injured. They also found evidence and items that are commonly associated with dog fighting.

A few thoughts on this. For one, if the NFL has any balls whatsoever, they will suspend Vick for the season. Anyone who takes part in or knows about mistreatment of animals to this extent should be sent to jail and sodomized without lubrication.  I can't wait to hear how Vick and his publicist will spin this story, but hopefully he doesn't say the dogs were protecting his jewellery. My guess is they'll say something along the lines of "While Mr Vick owns the house, he doesn't reside there and doesn't condone anything that went on there. Furthermore, he has never taken part in any of the illegal activities that went on there. Mr Vick realizes he has to be accountable for the decisions he makes and he regrets that he placed his trust in the wrong people on this occassion".

Personally, I think the man is an absolute piece of street trash, and I hope he takes a helmet to the spine, paralyzing him for life. Then maybe his moron brother forgets about him one day and leaves him by the pool, where the crows peck out his eyes.

Suffice it to say, Vick probably won't be getting a warm reception from the fans in Cleveland.

dogpound

John Kruk Just Ordered 10 of These (nice work Webb)

The Schilling Code

Baltimore Orioles announcer Gary Thorne ruffled some feathers in Red Sox Nation earlier in the week when during a broadcast, he claimed Doug Mirabelli confirmed to him that the Curt Schilling "Bloody Sock" incident, had been a publicity stunt and a hoax. His suggestion that the blood had been "painted on" has since been rebuffed, rebuked and rejected, however baseball historians have since analyzed the sock and now conclude that it actually contains an elaborate secret code, that may shed light on some of baseball's darkest secrets.

bloodysock

After days of research of my own, we here at the Triple S were able to crack this mysterious bloody painted sock code and what was revealed, is nothing if not earth shattering.

Mocking the Draft, Part I

The Israel Baseball League held the first ever draft prior to its inaugural season and the biggest surprise came when the Modi'in Miracle selected Sandy Koufax as their final selection in a "tribute" to the Jewish Hall of Famer.

Jumping on the tribute bandwagon (and making an unprecedented second consecutive appearance) are the Modesto Nuts, who followed suit by drafting Ron Artest.

Irony Ball Corks Indian Giver

At the conclusion of last years baseball season, Torii Hunter promised to send the KC Royals some champage if they could knock off the Tigers in the final game and secure the AL Central for Minnesota in the process. The Royals obliged, and being a man of his word, Hunter last week sent 4 bottles of bubbly to the Royals clubhouse. After Major League Baseball found out about the gifts, they quickly informed Torii this was a major no-no, and ordered him to take the bottles back. The Royals meanwhile, were obviously super excited to get hammered and try to forget that they play in Kansas City. The problem was, when they went to uncork their loot, it was gone. How did the Royals react? Well, Thursday night, Zack Greinke said "here's what happens to people who take back present's", with a fastball that corked Torii Hunter in the mouth. Mental note, do not heckle Royals.

Mocking the Draft Part II

ESPN'S COVERAGE OF THE 2007 NFL DRAFT, WITH YOUR HOST ALEC BALDWIN

In a further attempt to resuscitate his recently ravaged public image, Alec Baldwin signs on to host the 2007 NFL Draft show. Always on the cutting edge, ESPN jumped at the chance to land the talented A-lister, despite the fact he's a traffic jam away from turning into Michael Douglas in "Falling Down". Davis and the Raiders are now on the clock, let's zip down to the floor for all the exhilarating action of the 2007 NFL Draft! 

(Baldwin) "Hello football fans, and welcome to the 2007 draft. I'm sure a lot of you think I'm an absolute asshole, douche-bag father after the voice message I left for my daughter was leaked by my tramp ex-wife, but I'm here today to show everyone I'm just your run of the mill, all-American dad. I think over the course of today's proceedings, you'll come to find that I love and respect all kids, no matter what position they play, and regardless of whether or not they answer the phone when their father calls. Ok, now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's get on to the picks"!!

Al Davis takes the stage, looking like Uncle Leo in a velour jumpsuit.

(Davis) "With the first overall pick in the 2007 draft, the Raiders select QB, from the Louisiana State University, Jamarcus Russell"

(Baldwin) "Well there you have it folks. Months of speculation are finally over as Jamarcus Russell is the first overall pick. Russell was a popular pick among some circles, but Mr. Davis you psychotic old bag, to quote Gnarls Barkley 'I think you're craaaazy, just like meeeeee'. First of all, the kid’s parents couldn't even decide on one name. HEY RUSSELL'S, IS IT MARCUS OR JAMAL!!!

I truly can't believe the mental midgets running the Raiders wasted their pick on a worthles, useless, brainless quarterback who can barely find Waldo, let alone Randy Moss on a 50 yard fly route. Good luck Oakland you pathetic excuse for a professional franchise. You just drafted a guy who is such a dog, last week they found him at Ron Mexicos's house in a cage. Enjoy another season in last place, you and your retarded fans deserve it.

ESPN executives begin shifting uncomfortably in their leather recliners. "Whose idea was it to let Baldwin host again"? Silence, followed by nervous fidgeting.

(Baldwin) "Alright folks, onto the second pick, as Matt Millen and the Detroit Lions step to the stage. This should be a treat".

(Millen) "With the second pick, the Detroit Lions select Calvin Johnson, Wide Receiver out of Georgia Tech".

(Baldwin) "What a huge surprise, the Lions choose a receiver. Almost as shocking as Lance Bass revealing he's a closet 'ass-tronaut'. So they decide to go with Calvin, which I guess makes the Lions 'Hobbes' and is so totally appropriate for this organization as it has been run like a goddamn cartoon since they let Barry Sanders retire. Detroit fans, not only do you live in the toilet bowl of America, but your team has a brain trust that makes Larry, Curly and Moe look like Stephen Hawking. Actually, anyone that continues to live in that cess pool of a city obviously doesn't have the brains or decency of a human being. I don't care that he's the best player in the draft; your management team is a thoughtless pain in the ass that doesn't care about any of you. Just like my ex-wife, the tramp".

ESPN executives simultaneously pull out their phones and begin phoning attorneys. The little one starts bleeding from his ear.

(Baldwin) "Mooooving right along, Cleveland Browns coach Romeo Crennel is waddling his way to the podium. Optimism is high in Ohio this year as the Browns appear to be only about 29 players away from even catching a sniff of the playoffs. In fact, the odds on the Browns making the playoffs are identical to the odds that my brain-dead, slut-whore of an ex-wife can walk and chew gum at the same time, roughly 50 billion to one".

(Crennel) "With the third overall pick, the Browns select Adrian Peterson, running back from the Oklahoma Sooners".

(Baldwin) “Superb pick Cleveland. Peterson's collarbone should last about as long as it takes for his old man to be thrown back into the clink, which will probably be early November. Adrian Peterson is a thoughtless little pig. I bet he didn't even answer the phone when his father called from prison last year. Though I'm sure it's not completely his fault as his mother no doubt put him up to it. I should fly down to her house and straighten her ass out. I don't care that he's the top running back, the kid is a rude little pig and he needs to be straightened out. He's pretty big though, I think I'll send one of my bodyguards."

All hell is breaking loose in the ESPN executive press room. Most of the team have long since vacated, and the ones that remain are now sobbing uncontrollably. Warbled murmurs of "damn you Baldwin" are just barely audible.

(Baldwin) "This sure is exciting isn't it folks? Kinda reminds me of watching my whore ex-wife suck back shots of vodka like it's her job. Next up, the Tampa Bay Bucs. Hey, you know what rhymes with Bucs? Sucks!! As in my ex-wife sucks more dick than a Taiwanese crackwhore".

(Jon Gruden) "Tampa Bay would like to select, with the fourth pick, QB out of Notre Dame, Brady Quinn". (Boos fill the air)

(Baldwin) "Well, at least the kid can bench 230 a million times, he's gonna need all his strength to push off the constant parade of 230 pound linebackers that will be sitting on his chest 17 times per game. What kind of a name is Brady anyways? His parents should have just named him 'stuff a cock in my throat'. Hey Quinn, how about you get a haircut too, now that the priests at Notre Dame don't need to use your mullet as handles. Oh, and have fun throwing to your new receivers you rude little pig. They have nice soft hands, kinda like Michelangelo’s David".

At this point, Brady Quinn flies off the stage and lunges over a table towards Baldwin. A full on brawl erupts, two people are killed and 38 are injured. Only 3 weapons are discharged (all from the Bengals table). ESPN is sued for millions, but they make it all back and more in what turns out to be the biggest ratings bonanza since the OJ trial. At the next board of directors meeting, it is determined that ESPN will fly in Don Imus to host the upcoming WNBA draft.

Now that's what I call must see TV.

 


Wednesday, April 25, 2007

WANG YANKS, FLESH EATING DONGS, AND HARD HITTING NUTS

 Now that both the NBA and NHL playoffs are in full swing, I haven't had much time for other things such as eating, speaking or bathing. The good news is the Raptors tied their series at one, and by good news I mean I wasn't forced to hang myself with my own testicles which may happen if the Raps lose to Vince and his mom. There aren't many people in the world I hate, but those two are certainly on the list. In fact, I may despise VC's fat tramp whore mother even moreso than him. Sorry, did I say that out loud?

More good news for Sam Mitchell, who after getting raked across the coals for most of last year, the entire off-season and the first quarter of this year, can finally do a colossal Nelson laugh at all the "experts" who predicted he would be the first coach given dos boot. I don't know Sam from the homeless glue-sniffer I walk over on my way to work, but after seeing how the man operates on and off the court, I dig him, and only slightly more important, it seems like the team has his back and genuinely respect him.

Even more impressive for Mitchell, is how he managed to get the Raptors into the playoffs while building such a strong alliance on Survivor Fiji.

Some other random NBA notes:

-Everyone was mocking Utah's AK-47 for crying on the bench because he didn't get enough playing time, but if you read my NBA preview, you'd know the real reason he was crying. After his wife Masha Lopatova took down "the great wang of China", Andrei now needs to use a bungee cord whenever they have sex.

 bungy

You can add this, to nibbling at his fingernails, as reasons why Lebron James will never win a championship, and never be comparable to his Airness. Though partying with underage co-eds while puffing on a fat Cuban stogey would probably get King James on the right track. (Thanks to Deadspin for both)

-Things are heating up in the Dallas/G-State series, as Disco Dirk and the rest of the Cuban Clan split their first two home games. I would be remiss if I didn't make note of Baron Davis, who's beard has now recorded back to back triple doubles.

beard

Rubs, Tugs & Pulls Also Probably Would Have Gotten It Done

I noticed this headline over the weekend "Yanks Activate Wang". Thankfully, Wang didn't do his rehab stint with this squad (Thanks Krista), though a "Wang plays with Nuts" headline probably would have made my year. And yes, I am that childish.

If you're bored, send your best "Nuts" headlines to mikesamways@hotmail.com and I'll post the best ones next week. I'll get the ball rolling (so to speak), "Nuts Get Spanked At Home For Second Straight Night".

Hey Baseball, Your New Name Will Be Toby

Seeing as Barry Bonds has been getting the cold shoulder from the Commissioner in his pursuit to break one of the most hallowed records in all sports, I figured it was due time somebody stepped up to the plate. Bonds currently has 741 career bombs, including his seventh of the year Wednesday, which leaves him only 14 back of the record. To honour the greatest batter in the history of the game, I will show the ultimate respect for his accomplishment by naming, starting with his seventh last Wednesday, the final 15 homeruns Bonds hits prior to breaking the record. You may ask, what the christ does naming homeruns have to do with respecting the record? Well, as Kunta Kinte can surely attest, to name something, is to own it, and Barry Bonds not only owns the balls, he owns this record. So you go Barry, do your thing, and I'll be here to make sure every one knows you own that shit.

Wednesday April 25th - HR 741 Necrotizing fasciitis : Randy Wolf threw a diseased fastball, and Barry made him eat it. Selig, you can eat a dick, only 14 to go.

Time For A Career Change?

Chicago Cubs human band-aid Mark Prior is once again out for the season. Seriously, at what point does this guy start contemplating a bubble. I know bubble-man doesn't have quite the same ring as bubble-boy, but when you make Mr. Glass look durable, it may be time to look elsewhere for work. 

800

I'll have another post tomorrow, including notes on Schilling's fake bloody sock, and an NFL mock draft where the draftee's are actually mocked. As well, be sure to stop by www.doubleviking.com for my latest article "His and Hers Guide to Home Appliances".

Thanks for reading and as always, have an eye.



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