Seriously Chapter 63: Cincinnati is About to Explode

"Don't You Do It, Coach Kelly"

I work in the stupid, sorry-ass, hack-filled world of sports journalism and believe me when I tell you that there's only one other field that contains more functioning, drunken idiots.

Sidebar Regarding Sports Reporters:

The sports game, as grim and grotesque as it is, should actually be a workplace model for the entire country because we've got more special needs retards competing on equal footing with everybody, more than anywhere else in society. Sorry to be so crass, Mom, but the coin of Seriously's realm happens to be the truth. The EEOC should be celebrating our industry.

But Back to My Point, What Brought Us Here

The only other profession that has more drunken idiots in it is the field of law enforcement (at least out here in Quake Town, that is, which is where Seriously and the Sports Seriously franchise has it's offices and is based.) When you're partying with an L.A. cop, the only thing you're not sure of is whether he'll be wearing women's or men's underwear around his neck when he's plastered and dancing on the pool table. These mother f-er's are completely flippin' crazy. But what they're not are liars, at least not to this sports gumshoe of record. Check it out. Word on the streets here in L.A. is that the city of Cincinnati, Ohio could possibly erupt into actual violence and civil unrest if beloved Coach Brian Kelly leaves the 3rd ranked Bearcats for the job at Notre Dame. And if Coach takes the job BEFORE this year's Sugar Bowl match versus Florida, there's a scenario where officials see the city as possibly being burnt to the ground. LAPD was been put on notice as of yesterday and one of my old SWAT buddies, Raphael, is going there as part of a special detachment of 45 that's being lent to city. I shite you not. This is real.

My Sisters Are Crying

With Cincinnati being my hometown, my two sisters, who can't stand my guts, they're weeping on the phone to me like I'm the Commissioner of College Football and I can stop the whole damn thing. "It's a free market, Lottie!! (my sister's name) You think Coach Kelly is returning my phone calls? I haven't been able to reach the guy since he was 7 and 0!!!" My other sister, Patrice, was bawling so pitifully it was like a Romanian fat lady about to lose her first born son to the dictator, Ceausescu. She developed an Eastern European accent right there on the phone as she talked to me, slobbering and weeping. "Patty, you're a lawyer, you don't care about anything!!! It's a football coach, for god sakes!!!" She screamed, "No, no, theese my ALMA MATER!! I geef dem money. I geef dem money even vhen they are 4 and 7 and losing to zee Akron Zips!! (Does the Romanian accent come across in this translation? I swear, it was freaking me out.)

At Least Let me Do This For You People in Southeastern Ohio

Notre Dame, as of today, lost Heisman candidate, Jimmy Clausen, and star receiver, Golden Tate, to the NFL. They're left with one freshman quarterback and a sack full of question marks all over the field coming off a 6-6 season. Cincinnati on the other hand, after winning the Big East and darn near the national championship this year, will field a top-ranked team of Sophomore stars on offense and defense and will led by a running, gunning Touchdown Jesus quarterback named Zach Collaros who was 4-0 this year stepping in for injured legend, Tony Pike, exhibiting toughness and poise worthy of one Marion Morrison aka John Wayne and it was the kid's freshman year. Assuming the University of Cincinnati matches Notre Dame's salary offer (THEIR OFFICES deserve to be fire bombed if they don't) then which, pray tell, is the better program? Hopefully none of that Catholic horse shit comes into play. God o'mighty, while I consider myself a (flawed) man of deep faith, I sure do hate me some organized damn religion.

And Speaking of Faith

I pray for the Queen City and all of it's citizens who may end up heartbroken and displaced should Coach Kelly decide to take leave of his senses and depart. And yet I'm reminded of what Jesus wrote. He said, "I even pray for thee who boweth at the altar of the Golden Dome." But ultimately, in the end, should that worst-case-scenario occur, I only hope cooler heads might somehow prevail and there won't be any destruction of property or loss of life.

Have you thought of these things, Coach Kelly?

Seriously Chapter 62: "Now It's Going Too Far"

Tiger's People Respond

One advantage of living in Quake Town is that while you're choking to death personally, you do get a lot of stories first sometimes. New York blows, people. It's for dirty suckers and people who like to be shut in.

Just heard from Team Woods over in Century City. But before I drop that juice, side note for all you out-of-towners (you know you're my life blood and I love you):

Century City is where Los Angeles' lawyers gather from the ground up on two scrubbed boulevards, running parallel to each other, called Century Park East and Century Park West. Walking into Century City and saying "Is there a lawyer around?" is like walking into Mehmet's Warehouse of Rugs and asking, "You have a rug here you can sell me?" I'm talking six mother f-ing, 40-story, glass and steel monuments to private counsel. Esteemed American private counsel or what the great Al Sharpton refers to as "an intregal part of our system of justice and jewish prudence." Dewey, my guy over at team Team Woods (though he hasn't been acting much like my guy recently, what with the non-returning of my phone calls,) Dewey says re: the fourth broad that's just come out of the Woods-work, "This has officially become a premiere case of piling on. These girls can't shut their mouths about a damn thing and our guy can't even stub out a cigarette without everyone on earth knowing it's whereabouts. It's your classic rectal exam." "On who's part?" I asked. Dewey says to me, "What the f, Seriously? Are you making a crude joke on my dime and at this time? You got 23 years in this business. Should I end this conversation?" "Hey, Dewey, lighten the load when you're talking to me, Chief. Maybe talk to your #1 about how he treats the media. Tiger hasn't exactly tossed us bouquets of bonmots over the years or even many bromides, for that matter. Your guy's cold as a Seattle fish for the last decade, making our job a veritable Madam-Lena-the-Palmist guessing game, and now this pain in the ass wants to whimper about privacy when we're onto something even bigger than Tiger Woods, no thanks to him?" I don't even know what I'm saying right now and I'm writing this. Dewey says, "We're attacking, head on, all these false and pernicious lies about Tiger Woods just as soon as College Bowl season is over at the beginning of next year. Tiger's not an NFL guy." See, folks, when your client has that much money, he can even approach personal tragedies in a leisurely way.

Bottom Line and Where On Where it Stands as Far As Team Woods

So no big moves on Tiger's part until next year and they'll do everything possible to engender sympathy until then, no matter how many broads keep rearing their ugly heads. They want Elin out in public with Tiger and the kid, home girl's gotten the pre-nup amended to the tune of 80-mill-her-way with a downsized minimum of only three years, her having to stay. Did Tiger pay for a good lawyer for her, or what? So that's the tactic right now for Team Woods.

But on the Purely Human Side

I, myself, have been divorced three times and have had more cruel venom thrown my way than a snake handler. So I can comfortably put a human face on exactly how Eldrick "Tiger" Woods is feeling right now. When the weight of the world is on your shoulders and you're laying your head on that pillow at night going, "Ah, crap." This incredible Tiger Woods story jumps all over the place. It's just like real life.

Until then...

Seriously Chapter 61: Tiger Update & Let's Get it All on the Table, Brian Kelly

Seriously Breaks Through

My questionable friend, Chris, over at the Los Angeles Times (he's on the Tiger Woods hustle for those bloated idiots downtown,) he says to me of gum-shoeing this story, "Tiger Woods has more Jews working for him than Bibi frickin' Netanyahu." And then Seriously retorts, "Check it out. The story's locked down tighter than Tom Thumb's asshole right now but this mamma jammah is only just getting started." And then the L.A. Times guy says, "Yeah, really. And Mister Woods, you might want to leave open the check book." Forgive the glee but, truth be told, Eldrick has a little bit of a history of being rude to journalists and is now considered by those of us in the infidelity business as a jackass to have left recorded messages or texts of any kind. Forget a schlub like me who's just out chasing stories, no skanky party chick would ever save a message or text from the most famous athlete in the history of the world. No way! That's not how you fool around on your wife. Take it from me, I've fooled around on three. I can be a drunken, disgusting louse when I'm not on the job, truly and it's liberating to be able to admit that in public and to all of you who have blessed me with your continued sports patronage.

But I did finally get my guy over at Team Woods on the phone today and he told me that Tiger's wife, Elin, was swinging a 3-iron during the incident last week. Apparently she wanted a 2 at first, but even the wife of Tiger Woods can't hit a 2-iron.

Cincinnati Bearcat's Coach, Brian Kelly, Has Told Notre Dame to Kiss His Wide, Rippling Ass

Never did he think he'd engage in such discourse with representatives of a religious institution, but that's apparently how it went when they offered him the coaching job, only two hours after firing Charlie Weis. But that will be a story, slash, set-of-fireworks, for another day. I don't want to cause Coach Kelly any publicity grief during the season. Hell, he's gonna be playing for a national championship in a few weeks.

Stay tuned.

Seriously Chapter 60: No Word From Tiger's Camp & A Phone Call From the Steelers

Memo to All: I Know As Much As You Do

From all the e-mails Seriously's been getting the last couple days (which are now becoming verbal broadsides. Sorry, I needed time to think. Since my bi-yearly, intentional purging of staff, it's been just Seriously and Harmless Keith here at a large office and he's mostly occupied with keeping the computers, phones and machines running, me running the whole she-bang) It's obvious that a lot of you out there are overrating me as it relates certain vital sports scenarios. And while I'm honored by your confidence, let me be clear and up to date. I'm not anybody's go-to-ANYTHING on this whole, entire Tiger Woods story. I know as much as anybody on CNN knows. Sorry, all. You know I love you, all 8,431 of you, but I'll be the first to tell you when I ain't got the rocks. Even on a normal day, Seriously wouldn't be able to get Eldrick "Tiger" Woods on the phone without at least a couple of phone calls. Right now, Seriously can't even reach his people, that's how thick all this crap is getting. But I can throw you some insight, for whatever it's worth, and tell you a little bit about the way it works for us here in the sports business, even for old-timers like myself. Like Phil Jackson, Tiger Woods is what you call a rare-air individual in that, as a journalist, you take whatever he's giving you and you shut your mouth, no matter how many years you've got in the business. In person, Tiger's extraordinarily courteous but he also likes it if you act like you're the one who's running out the door. And while I've had several actual sit downs with Phil (and what I'd like to think is a somewhat of a relationship,) Tiger's always been a chase for old Seriously. We've never had a sit-down and I'd never ask him. Homie is way too private. He's in the echelon of Magic, Michael, Larry and Wayne in that you just want to leave those guys the hell alone. They'll come to you if you stick around long enough.

Seriously will let you know what you need to know about Tiger as soon as I know. Right now, I'm sure, like any citizen, he's got his lawyers busy getting the accident scene in shape and we're likely receive more information when his lawyers brief law enforcement on how things will be proceeding from here on out. Stay tuned.

A Dash Of Sanity From The Pittsburgh Steelers In the Form of a Phone Call

When Seriously refers to "my guy" in any particular sports organization, it's usually assured that the contact is also a friend. But in the case of Cliff Rooney from the Pittsburgh Steelers, (who I've called Zipper since he was eight-years-old,) I'm not so sure. He just called to let me know, before it went public, that, yeah, the Steelers had changed their mind and are benching Ben Roethlisberger this week versus the Ravens, (six days after his forth concussion at age 28.) But instead of taking him to the verbal woodshed, like I should have, I could give a flying rip this punk's the owner's son, I didn't say anything. Even though I was completely, totally, publicly vindicated from my last conversation with him (which I reported on in Chapter 59,) where dude was rude and hung up on me, even though I was standing up for HIS player. Hut ever, irrational representative of a major sports franchise. Nepotism is alive and well, I see. But here I didn't say anything, not a word, not a damn thing. I just said, "Yeah, and?" And the little porker hung up on me, yet again. I hate the Pittsburgh Steelers, I really, really do, but at least Big Ben will be sit down for a week and maybe even two.

Still haven't heard a thing regarding the concussion policy from the Commissioner's office. I'll have to get on the blower.

Seriously Chapter 59: Steeler Shame & The Game

For 23 years, I've been turning over tables and pissing in people's bowls of Wheaties, from the first day I ever got into this stupid, stinking sports news business. But not until today had I ever been the recipient of a threatening phone call. Now I'm a normal guy and I can get a little mean. And I've been threatened before and I've been threatening. But never have I been directly threatened (I know that makes sense because I know how you all know me.)

It like this, y'all - Seriously just got off the phone with the son of Steeler's owner, Dan Rooney. His name is Cliff Rooney but I call him Zipper because I've known the little smart-ass since he was a fat little kid. Well now, apparently, all he's got is a fat little mouth. Zipper's threatening death to my face (over the phone) because he heard I had the "galling temerity" to go public with my disgust over the fact that his stupid Steelers were starting Ben Roethlisberger this Sunday, six days after his 4th concussion at the age of 28. "For shame," Zipper snarled at me. "How dare you bite the blessed hand that's been feeding you!!? How dare you!!?" I said, "Fuck you, Zipper. On the sideline Sunday, your man was tweety-bird goofy like he'd been bopped by a passing truck." Now I rarely use four letter words but this chump was pissing me off. I said, "If that was your kid and he had gotten his 4th concussion, would you send him out there next week for a division game against the Baltimore Ravens?" Zipper said nothing and hung up on me. So I can only guess from that exchange I haven't made any new friends over at the Pittsburgh Steelers. But, guess what, America? It's not about me and it's not about the Steelers, they can burn and rot in hell. It's about Big Ben. I've gone from wanting him dead to being worried about the big lug. Anyway, I gotta go. Every time I think I have a conscience, it makes me want to run.

Roger Goodell, where are you?

Seriously Chapter 58: Kobe Says, "Lord What Fools These Mortals Be"

Though we do originate from Quake Town, we don't endorse the Los Angeles Lakers' brand here at Sports Seriously as this is a Clipper's building. But witness below, in case you missed it, Kobe Bryant's over-the-backboard shot last night against the Thunder. As my dear departed Bessie Mae would say, "Oh my, gidness."

http://ballhype.com/video/kobe-bryant-over-the-backboard-shot-hd/

Seriously Chapter 57: Blake Griffin, Steady as She Goes

It Takes Time To Be a Super-Star

15 games into the NBA season and Seriously hears annoying levels of cackle throughout sports media, (particularly from the usual suspect idiots who supposedly run ESPN.com,) about the fact that number one draft pick, Blake Griffin isn't averaging over 20 points a game for this year's Los Angeles Clippers who, oops, sit only 2 games out of the Pacific Division lead. I'll take 16, 8 and 5 every day of the week, thank you very much. And clog-it-up defense all over the court and the decidedly-not-rookie-like play making ability. Not to mention that he's played the 4th most minutes in the entire league. As my dear mother would say "My God, Miss Agnes," what the hell else is the young man from Oklahoma supposed to do? Are you in the media to become a herd of jackals? As the Los Angeles Clippers are heard from in this year's playoffs, patsies no more and contenders for the O'Brian Trophy, the last thing anybody on earth will be worried about is Blake Griffin's points-per-game average which will likely top out around 23 come March. Don't worry about this kid. Just let him "do what he do" and witness.

Post Script

Seriously had a sit-down with Blake Griffin just yesterday but it ended up being personal in nature as opposed to fair-game, shop talk so I can't deliver as promised in terms of relating what was said between myself and the rookie. I'm just getting to know the kid, I met his wife, Kiki, who's a dish and a sweetheart, but he did promise we'd meet "another time, real soon." I'll keep you posted.