Hank Steinbrenner Says A Lot Of Funny Shit

I'm not sure if everyone's picked up on this just yet -- probably because the season hasn't begun -- but ever since Hank Steinbrenner became the de facto head honcho up in the Bronx after last season, the man has been spinning out nutty quotes like it's his job. The weird thing about them is they all feel really contrived, like he thinks he needs to pick up where his dad left off in the early 1990s (before he ended up sitting in a bedroom somewhere in his slippers and robe, eating applesauce with a plastic spoon). But the difference is, George seemed genuinely insane. Hank? I don't know, the whole persona just isn't ringing true to me.

But either way, his flailing efforts to talk tough are an endless source of hilarity. Witness his latest statements to the New York Times:

“Red Sox Nation?” Hank says. “What a bunch of [expletive] that is. That was a creation of the Red Sox and ESPN, which is filled with Red Sox fans. Go anywhere in America and you won’t see Red Sox hats and jackets, you’ll see Yankee hats and jackets. This is a Yankee country. We’re going to put the Yankees back on top and restore the universe to order.”

You get all that? Here you have (i) a profanity, (ii) a conspiracy theory, (iii) a gross hyperbole, (iv) a ridiculously pompous pronouncement, and (v) a grandiose prognostication, all in the span of six little sentences. I'm telling you, this is going to be a fun season.

I must also note that I take issue with the substance of Hank's quote, especially since I doubt he's spent much time exploring our vast country outside of New York, Tampa, and an occasional trip to Cleveland. But if he's happy claiming all of the fringe, bandwagon, pink-cap wearing, front-running "Yankee fans" in Tulsa, Raleigh, and Omaha, he's welcome to them.

Sonny D's Spring Training Report

Because I (i) have not posted in a while; and (ii) am too damned busy to do so, I humbly present the terse yet informative spring training ramblings of good friend, loyal reader, Guitar Hero enthusiast, and spawner of Li'l Sonny: Sonny D, who is live on location at Tradition Field. (Photographs are, you guessed it, all taken by Sonny). Take it away, buddy:

It was a hot day at Tradition Field, and here are some random thoughts on the day...

- Just as we got there, the guys were ending their morning practices to attend the intrasquad game

- Fans were lined up for some of the guys entering the field...Jose and Delgado walked by, but didn't sign anything

- The pitchers were doing some running drills..after, Ollie and Maine signed stuff for a while...Johan, on his way out, said that he'll sign some stuff later...yeah right.

- The game featured one team with mostly regulars, the other team mostly scrubs. The regulars included Jose, Angel Pagan (reacquired from Cubs), D Wright, Carlos D, Alou, Church, and Gotay, who all played about 3-4 innings

- The game was fully umpired, with a chick the ump behind the plate. Nobody questioned her calls...

- Jon Niese started the game...he looked pretty good.

- Duaner Dirty Sanchez pitched an inning, and aside from a couple of cheap hits, looked rather good, especially against Fernando Martinez

- Juan Padilla, also returning from injuries, looked pretty good.

- Jose hit a triple, and proceeded to loaf it as he admired his shot in the gap. To his defense, there were some slow pokes on the bases ahead of him.

- David Wright waved and smiled at Li'l Sonny, of which we realized we had nothing for him to sign (or something to sign with), so I ran over to the concession stand to get a ball and pen, but he was gone by the time I got back...mental note for next time - be better prepared for autographs!

- We couldn't walk away empty handed, and found a newbie Ryan Church signing some stuff. Got us a signed ball by him - he better be good!

All in all a good day...Li'l Sonny was a good camper for the most part, and I think he noticed one of the rookies tipping his pitches.

Thanks, Sonny, and good work. As for me, I'm more wrapped up in the fact that the Rocket's wife got a tit job while using HGH. The guy's married to a science project.

Debbie Clemens Given Lifetime Ban From MILF Hall Of Fame

WASHINGTON, D.C.-- Following the stunning revelation that she was shot up with human growth hormone in 2003 in order to achieve her physique for a Sports Illustrated bikini shoot, Debbie Clemens, mother of four, Texas housewife, seller of hideous, rhinestone-encrusted sports-themed collectibles, and wife of major league pitcher Roger Clemens, was issued a lifetime ban by the MILF Hall of Fame.

"This is indeed a sad day for MILFs everywhere," said MHOF president Helen Mirren. "But, in view of the undisputed testimony, we had to take action. We could not in good conscience sit idly by and let Ms. Clemens sully our collective image."

The MHOF's decision was devastating to Ms. Clemens, given that she was shoo-in for induction in light of her four children, her shimmering blond hair, taut, firm body, and raidiant good-looks.

MHOF member Demi Moore expressed regret. "I'm sorry it didn't work out for Debbie," said Moore. "But, if we let her in, what sort of message are we sending to gold-digging, bubble-headed trophy wives around the country? That it's ok to cheat? I don't think so."

Ms. Moore's thoughts were echoed by other ranking MHOF members. "It's disgusting, actually," said member Pamela Anderson. "I mean, silicone is one thing. Everyone in here knows that's a part of the game, like chewing tobacco or B-12. But HGH? C'mon, Debbie. You know better."

Ms. Clemens reportedly plans on applying to the GILF Hall of Fame as soon as her son, Koby, knocks someone up.

***

OK, enough satire. A few points on yesterday's hearing:

(1) Is it too late for Rep. Elijah Cummings to run for President?

(2) See, here's the thing. Brian McNamee is a loathsome, pathetic, desparate slug, and he more or less came across as such yesterday. But Andy Pettitte is not. And that's the end of it, as far as I'm concerned. I mean, once you've got a fairly detailed affidavit from Pettitte AND his freaking WIFE saying Clemens admitted taking HGH, what else is there to investigate? I'm no lawyer (oh wait, yes I am), but you could build a perjury case against fat-boy on those two affidavits alone.

(3) Very interesting to see the members of the Committee split evenly across party lines yesterday, with the Democrats challenging Clemens, and the Republicans going to bat for him. I enjoyed it, though - it reminds me of when the Philadelphia Eagles got Terrell Owens, putting my least favorite player on my least favorite team to play in front of my least favorite fans. Nice symmetry there.

(4) Am I the only one who wants to punch Rusty Hardin in the mouth? I thought not.

(5) Quote of the day, hands down:

"I believe Andy has misheard, Mr. Congressman, on his comment about myself using HGH, which never happened," Clemens said.

Break that down grammatically, and your head will explode.

(6) Lastly, every time they were discussing the nanny and Jose Canseco's pool party, I kept picturing the Cheri Oteri episode of "Curb," where Larry ends up ogling Tim Kazurinsky's son's penis.

That's all for now. Don't forget to Name Tom's Boat.

This Is A Boat. Please Name It.

Well, I haven't checked in since last week, so there's a few topics on the table. I could talk about my experiences at the Giants' victory parade (it was chilly, I got there too early, and I caught a cold as a result, but Super Bowl Champs, baby!). I could talk about the fact that Willie Randolph said on SNY this weekend that people tell him he looks like LaVar Burton. I could talk about Brian McNamee dishing dirt on Debbie Clemens - snort - DEBBIE Clemens!! (First the Super Bowl, then Johan, then Debbie Clemens...this is like Christmas).

But I choose to eschew those topics, at least today, in favor of a new contest that I like to call....drum roll, please....

NAME TOM'S BOAT

That's right, long-time friend, collaborator, poker buddy, groomsman, outer-borough expert, music, film and techonology consultant Tom (Maybe I Can Help) has purchased a brand new vessel, not unlike the one pictured above. Rumor has it that he and Mrs. I Can Help are having some difficulty naming this sucker. So, we turn to you, the loyal reader, for assistance.

The person who comes up with the finest, funniest, wittiest, and most original moniker for Tom's boat will win the eternal distinction of having the aforementioned scow bear the winning name emblazened upon its hull for all eternity -- or at least until the repo man seizes it next year (I kid). Rickey Henderson, I'm looking in your direction here.

In the meantime, I'll get everyone started with a few of my suggestions:

1. "18-1" (probably won't go over with Mrs. Tom, the Pats fan, but I like it)
2. "Row V" (a fitting tribute to our least favorite spot in Shea Stadium before it's destroyed)
3. "Meister Bait" (you know, like Meister Brau....oh, wait)
4. "The Derek Jeter" (should attract many smelly, scaly fish)
5. "I Bought This With My Gambling Winnings" (why equivocate?)

The polls close in exactly one week, so get those entries in!

p.s.: I also considered discussing the fact that I realized this weekend that the guy on Entourage who played "Yair," the Saudi zillionaire who briefly agreed to purchase "Medellin" from Vinny Chase, bears a striking resemblance to Haus, f/k/a Count Choculitis. But that's another story entirely.

Holy Freaking Mother Of Pearl

I'm still shaking.

Seriously.

From about 11:00 pm last night until I went to bed a few hours later, I looked vaguely like the guy to Eli's left in that picture.

It's been so long since a team of mine won a championship (17 years, to be exact - these very same Giants), that I didn't know what to do with myself last night. Scream? Sit there grinning? Dunk my head in the toilet? Eat lots of cheese? I had no idea.

When all was said and done, I settled on staggering around Sonny D's house, wearing a sweet plastic Super Bowl XLII "ring" (see picture below), and staring wide-eyed at the post-game show while trying to get my hands to stop shaking.

I'm gassed.

I can't even begin to comprehend what took place in Glendale, Arizona last night, so I may as well just offer you some quick hits:

(1) Owned, owned, owned. That is what the Giants' front four did to the Pats' offensive line. All. Night. Long. Tuck, Strahan, Osi, even Jay Freaking Alford. I have no quarrel with giving the MVP to Eli, but this game was won by the Giants' D-line.

(2) Had the Mets won the World Series in 2006, which would have been a bigger catch, Endy's or Tyree's? I have to go with Tyree. That play was just so absurd, I am still having trouble accepting that it happened.

(By the way, what do both the Endy play and the Tyree play have in common? Answer: Both were called by that jackass Joe Buck)

(3) As for Eli, all I can say is bite me, Filip Bondy. Just bite me. Please. Eli is so far ahead of both Big Ben and Phil Rivers, it's not even close.

(4) Truly odd decision by Belischmuck to go for it on 4th and 13 in Gostkowski's FG range, only to then chuck it into the end zone to no one in particular.

(5) Speaking of Belischmuck, I enjoyed him slinking off the field despite the fact that there was still one tick on the clock. God, I truly loathe him.

(6) 23-17? Plax was not too far off after all.

(7) True story - after the Tyree play, I turned to Tommy and said "you know what? I think this is just meant to be." Mind you, they still had 24 yards and less than a minute to go against an 18-0 team, but for some reason, I got a strange sense of calm at that point. Yes, they were going to score. It was going to happen.

(8) After Eli's pass to Plax finally emerged from the stratosphere and landed in Plax's hands, my hands couldn't stop trembling. They still kind of are.

(9) Big shout-out goes to our puppy, who settled onto the top of Sonny D's couch for the whole game, only to get continually awoken by screams and shouts. She, of course, had no idea what was happening, so she simply barked. Then, I almost stepped on her after she chased after me while I was celebrating the Plax TD in front of the television. Poor li'l thing.

OK, I honestly can't write any more. I just need to sit with this for a while. Perhaps I will come up with some spontaneous inspiration when I'm at the parade tomorrow (which, by the way, is staging a stone's throw from my office).

Yes, I said "at the parade tomorrow."

Holy shit.

Done And Done