2001
Where has the time gone? It seems like we just finished putting last year’s list together. Anyway, welcome to the Kev & Scott TalkZone Hall Of Fame Spectacular for the 2000-2001 program year. This compilation of memorable TZ moments immortalizes favorite posts and standout individual performances in the sole opinions of the fearless hosts themselves. Is every great post, embarrassing meltdown and above-average TZ-dweller represented here? Hell no. Unlike you, Kev & Scott only have so much time to spend reading this crap, and TZOL does not care about your human need for props and recognition. So save your hate-mail and Cliff Floyd references. Know that you are appreciated, and we sincerely thank all of you for your contributions and fierce loyalty to this ridiculous site.
OK, enough of that BS. It is time to roll the ugliness. Some of this stuff contains bad language, and just about all of it is inappropriate, so proceed at your own risk. Like years’ past, at the bottom of the page, we identify the 2001 TalkZone MVP, that rare individual that is allowed to hoist the coveted Golden Scott Award aloft in victorious fashion…
LEGEND INDUCTION
pravata
Let it be known that pravata becomes the latest TZ-dweller to achieve Legend status. This long overdue recognition of TalkZone’s quickest wit comes in perhaps his finest season, as the drooling mainstream finally began to grasp the complex, experimental nature of his work. Master of the one-liner. Creator of the ‘pravataism’. A Zippian penchant for sarcasm. An understated, biting style that has influenced tens. An accomplished student of the game. A Legend.
FAVORITE TZ EXCERPTS
Various
We don’t remember the exact context of some of this stuff, but it does make for a pretty interesting compilation…
Andyzipp:
“Anyone else get a warm fuzzy feeling when Yackball calls you a ‘cheating bastard’?”
Lug:
“Yes. Pray for me, OrangeBalls.”
Breedlove:
“Heavy ball can refer to sinking action, difficulty getting loft upon contact, or elephantitis.”
Ankur Goel:
“They called me Big McAnkh in ’98. Big Mac was but a side show compared to my prodigous blasts.”
Stain:
“So, I’m most likely the only guy in the world with a gynecological bootie for a driver sock.”
pravata:
“They’ll get my frog gig when they pry it out of my cold dead hands.”
Jacksonian:
“Like a bleeding seal alone in the ocean, any ‘stat’ used in isolation to prove a point should and will be eaten by the sharks.”
pravata:
“15% off my sammich, that’s no deal.”
Breedlove:
“The rivulets of grease rolling off our arms were a clear biohazard and I’m pretty sure some grackles got stuck in the resultant slick and were rendered flightless.”
Curly:
“Because of my bad ankles I’m falling all the time… it has nothing to do with the cerveza”
Bumblebee Man:
“Aiiieee! Es gato malodoro!”
Carnac:
“Cey what?”
Alkie:
“Youppi, we hardly knew ye.”
Andyzipp:
“Is that anything like unfunny diarrhea clown?”
Hetero Doxy:
“man you people are pathetic. sheep being led to slaughter by the corporate welfare monolith that runs houston.”
Yoda:
“Hoo hoo hee, wild is the pickoff throw, to third Viz goes.”
Jacksonian:
“Listening to Milo is like using an icepick to remove my own wisdom-teeth.”
pravata:
“His strolls down memory lane are turning into safaris lately.”
HudsonHawk:
“I would have absolutely beat the living shit out of him if I could have.”
Breedlove:
“Milo still walks around with Damp-Rid in his pockets, sifting it down the leg of his pants onto the field at Enron like some wack Shawshank escape plan.”
Andyzipp:
“That reminds me…I forgot to clean up all the hair I shaved off your wife’s back last night.”
Hetero Doxy:
“man, you need to start chewing sugar-free gum, beavis.”
Alkie:
“I saw an old woman today with the biggest toe I’ve ever seen. I’m not shitting you, this thing was bigger and longer than my thumbs.”
Austin:
“Being nekkid ain’t like throwing a curve”
Mind Boggler:
“Replace the baseball words here with political words and you see why a system of government like ours cannot possibly work.”
pravata:
“If Pol Pot is under house arrest, just don’t go into that house”
AstrosGuy:
“You rump swabs need to start dealing in reality and stop slavishly believing all the spin and BS the front office and media feeds you.”
Hetero Doxy:
“any team with charlie hayes, orlando merced, and wayne franklin on its roster has plenty of room for major league talent”
Brandon M:
“Hunsucker is 99% dumbass and 1% retarted.”
Jim R:
“It is 3:43 PM, OU sucks, and a troll is here.”
TxRascal:
“If you think Lima’s ERA is ‘miniscule’ then you must be using Uranus as a reference point.”
Waldo:
“Yes, it IS my ass, and it’s right here in this chair.”
Limey:
“It’s crack in loud trousers.”
pravata:
“Strained hip flexor must be Venezuelian for ‘key main ignition sequence'”
Breedlove:
“I heard he corks his pants.”
Alkie:
“Let’s be honest here. I’ve watched porn for a full decade and those ‘cheerleaders’ from the XFL were the trashiest, nastiest crack whores I’ve ever seen.”
Limey:
“Alyssa in the sky, with dime rates.”
Andyzipp:
“Hanging up on a phone sex operator is not the same as turning down chicks.”
Michael N:
“You are a fool. The master of the utterly juvenile, misdirected and clich? retort.”
Jim R:
“Fuck off.”
BEST SLAM OF A FRONTRUNNING TROLL
pravata
After several Zone-dwellers noted the disappearance of frontrunning Reds fan Truth after the last-place Astros swept his team last July, pravata had this to contribute…
“‘Truth’ is a laughably incoherent troll pathetically clutching his machine-autographed photo of KG Jr. and shrilly screeching diet tips at the unheeding back of Dante Bichette. ‘Take the skin off the chicken!’ he suggested.”
BEST SUGGESTIONS FOR BALLCLUB TO MAINTAIN FAN INTEREST
Limey
The dog days get even worse when you’re 20 under .500, and fans begin to come up with their own ideas of fun at the old ball yard. Case and point from late last summer…
“In honour of the circus-like on-field performances recently, I propose a number of ploys to keep fans interested in watching the remaining games:
1) Being too short to play 3B, Chris Truby will be issued stilts and a top hat. A by-product will be that he’ll have much more chance on those high choppers down the line.
2) Lugo will dress in a black cape and topper (he already has the pencil ‘tache), and strap a female fan selected at random to the base path between 2nd and 3rd. It will then be up to the the rest of the team to prevent baserunners from running her over as they parade around the bases on the latest sequence of hanging curves, passed balls and infield boots.
3) First base will be converted to a scale, and fans invited to guess the weight of Daryle Ward.
4) Instead of actually having to hit pitches, the opposing hitters will be invited to play a test of strength game. They have a mallet, and have to hit the peg as hard as they can. The pole will be marked from a single to a home run, and the hitter will be awarded bases depending on how high he can raise the marker.
5) Fans can play GM, by trying to guess the number in Jeff Bagwell’s head.
6) Children can arm-wrestle the bull pen pitchers (nobody over the age of 7 is eligible).
7) Mo Alou’s “House of Fun”, which consists of a moving treadmill and a stationary bike.
A full scale version of MB’s “Operation” game, with Caminiti as the patient.
9) Jose Lima’s Home Run Challenge, with a prize for the hardest hit tata off the Astros’ 20-game winner.
10) Pairs of fans can have their inside legs bound together, and race Tough Tony down the line to first base. Tony gets a 20 foot head start.”
BEST MUSICAL PARODY
Breedlove
Watakushi no kioku ga tashika naraba, the tremendous and ultimate japanese cooking show known to Americans as “Iron Chef” has accounted for a large percentage of off-topic TZ conversation. After a much-hyped rematch between a-hole New York cook Bobby Flay and the kingpin of neo-japanese cuisine Masaharu Morimoto aired on the Food network in June, Breedlove became inspired. The natural combination of highbrow Asian cuisine and the Charlie Daniels Band produced the following masterwork…
Bobby Flay went down to Tokyo, he was lookin’ for a match to steal.
He was in a bind ‘cuz he lost last time and he was willin’ to make a deal.
When he came across this young man standing on the dais and eyeing his wok.
Bobby jumped up on a cutting board and said, ‘Boy, let me tell you what.
I guess you didn’t know it, but I’m egocentric, too.
And if you care to take a dare, I’ll make a match with you.
Now, you make pretty good sushi, boy, but give Bobby Flay his due.
I’ll bet my fame against your good name, ‘cuz I think I’m better than you.’
The boy said, ‘My name’s Morimoto and it might be a sham
but I’ll take your bet; you’re gonna regret, ’cause I don’t use no Pam.’
Morimoto, season up your wok and grab your lobsters quick,
‘Cause Hell’s broke loose in Tokyo, and Bobby Flay is a prick.
If memory serves he shocked his punk chef ass last time
But his dishes were so weak no one listened when he whined
And if you win, you’ll get to watch the redhead stepchild’s shame,
but if you lose, you’d better change your name…
Bobby Flay opened up his ears and he said ‘I’ll use this corn.’
And fire blew from his fingertips as he pureed up a storm.
He threw the kobe on the stove and it made an evil hiss.
Then audience chanters joined in and it sounded something like this…
When Bobby finished the Iron Chef said ‘Well, you’re pretty good, ol’ son,
but get the cameras rolling, and let me show you how it’s done.’
Fire on the lobster grill yum yum yum
Bobby Flay’s in the land of the risin’ sun
Fingers in the rice pan, makin’ a roll
Doc, do you chew dog or swallow it whole?
Bobby leaped up on his counter though he knew that he’d been beat.
He had to appear confident, he was in on the cheat.
The sumo wrestler judge loved his beef and corn
The fortune-telling critic treated Mo with scorn
And Morimoto said, ‘Bobby, just come on back if you ever wanna try again.
I done told you once, you son of a bitch, I’m the best that’s ever been.’
He played….
Fire the lobster grill yum yum yum
Bobby Flay’s in Kitchen Stadium
Lobsters so drunk they’re ticketing them
US Embassy judge shows the fix was in
FINEST SLAM OF IRATE ASTROS FANS
Andyzipp
After former-Stro Derek Bell punked the home team last August with a bomb to send the game to extra frames, then proceeded to diss Houston fans, TZ was calling for dude’s head. Enter Andyzipp with a bucket of ice water…
“To all the persons who have spouted off since the top of the 9th inning about Derek Bell needing to be thrown at, plunked, drawn and quartered, et al, you really just make me sad in a very manufactured home, Nascar, COPS sort of way.
Bell is an ass. He was an ass in Toronto. He was an ass in San Diego. He was an ass in Houston.
Having said that, no matter what the frickin’ Raw is War crowd who surfaces for these ‘moments of extreme vengence’ has to say, not one of you inbreeds would have the nads to throw at Bell yourself. I know you’ve probably thrown at people in your life, but Derek is a little bit larger than the kids in the Father/Daughter softball game last week.
Bell was an ass at Enron last night. Why that means the fans need to show their asses or think the Astros pitching staff need to stoop to the level of Derek is just beyond me.
I have an idea. How about the Astros let Bell know about it by throwing behind him one time, and then not letting him get a hit the rest of the series?
And for the moronathon who seems to not remember a brawl and somehow feels sad about that, dude put down the steel chair, cut off the mullet and read a book, preferrably one without pictures. Whatever is left in the homemade bong you call a head is screaming for some stimulation.”
MOST TRAGIC TAKE
Kit Cars
“Okay so I’m in Austin TX sitting at the Crown & Anchor Pub, minding my own business.
The ball game is on the tube above the bar.
The Astros have cranked 3 taters and are up five to zip.
Houston’s R.O.Y. (screw Pujols) Oswalt is mowing down the AZ Diamondbacks like Grant took Richmond.
I have an ice cold pitcher of Harp in front of me, my Irish pal Quinn “the Eskimo” is 2 bar stools to my right and his terrier Matty (I call her bait)on a barstool in between us.
Beautiful women are all but standing in line to fawn and coo over Matty and talk with the nice guys who are sitting with her. I was thinking that life couldn’t get much better, when into the bar walks a single, stunning young woman, who proceeds to plunk herself down on the stool right next to me on my left and before I can come up with any dazzling ice breaker she says without hesitation “I just love baseball don’t you?……”.
Instantly I considered whether a proposal would be presumptious or not on my part. Had I had the equipment I would have frozen time at just that second and lived and died a happy man, forever looking into her deep blue baseball loving eyes. But as sure as life is filled with wonderful surprises one must also know the dark side is there to ruin all that is true and good.
Unfortunately it all came crashing down in a matter of seconds, as she parted her moist pouty lips and spewed forth the following.
‘Except for NL ball, its like watching paint dry’
and
‘Hey bartender, can you turn on the Yankee game instead?’
Life can be so cruel…………….”
BEST NEW TERM COINED IN TZ
Jim R
Minutes after From The Dugout made its debut last summer, editor Jim R was asked if he ever consider pitching in a senior hardball league. His response included an immediate Site Glossary addition…
“No, I turned down all offers to pitch, including two this year. that is why I can still throw. I did not want to throw my arm out trying to strike someone out in a denial league game.”
GREATEST COMMENTARY ON NEW YORK FANS
Limey
Prior to the start of the nauseating “Subway Series” last October, Limey illustrated the difference between Mets and Yankee fans…
“NYISD has determined that different Math Exams are required for pupils in NY’s two largest population groups, Mets and Yankee fans. Here are the most recent math exam papers.
MATH TEST FOR METS FANS:
NAME: __________
NICK-NAME: __________
GANG NAME: __________
1. Shug has 0.5 kilos of cocaine. If he sells an 8 ball to Malkie for 300 dollars and 90 grams to Gozy for 90 dollars a gram, what is the street value of the rest of his hold?
2. Tony pimps 3 ho’s. If the price is 40 dollars a trick, how many tricks per day must each ho perform to support his 500 dollar a day crack habit?
3. Whacker wants to cut the kilo of cocaine he bought for $7,000, to make a 20% profit. How many grams of strychnine will he need?
4. Christy got 6 years for murder. He also got $350,000 for the hit. If his common law wife spends $33,100 per year, how much money will be left when he gets out?
Extra Credit Bonus: How much more time will Christy get for killing the bitch who spent his money?
5. If an average can of spray paint covers 22 square meters and the average letter is 1 square meter, how many letters can be sprayed with eight fluid ounce cans of spray paint with 20% extra paint free?
6. Bagga steals Dunky’s skateboard. As Bagga skates away at a speed of 35mph, Dunky loads his brother’s piece. If it takes Dunky 20 seconds to load the gun, how far will Bagga have travelled when he gets whacked?
MATH TEST FOR YANKEE FANS:
NAME:__________ (if longer, please continue on separate sheet)
DADDY’S COMPANY: __________
1. Todd smashes up the father’s car, causing x amount of damage and killing three people. The old man asks his local senator to intervene in the court system, then forges his insurance claim and receives a payment of y. The difference between x and y is three times the life insurance settlement for the three dead people. What kind of car is Julian driving now?
2. Chloe’s personal shopper decides to substitute generic and own-brand products for the designer goods favoured by her employer. In the course of a month she saves the price of a return ticket to Fiji and Chloe doesn’t even notice the difference. Is she dense or what?
3. Roly fancies the arse of a certain number of chicks, but he only has enough Rohypnol left to render 33.3% unconscious. If he has 14 hits of Rohypnol, how is he ever going to bed the other two-thirds?
4. If Savannah throws up four times a day for a week she can fit in a size 4 Versace. If she only throws up three times a day for two weeks, she has to make do with a size 6 Dolce et Gabbana. How much does liposuction cost?
5. Alexander is unsure about his sexuality. Three days a week he fancies women. On the other days he fancies men, ducks and vacuum cleaners. However he only has access to the Hoover every third week. When does his New Yorker column start?”
“Roly fancies the arse of a certain number of chicks” is a particularly outstanding phrase. Nice job.
MOST GROUNDBREAKING INSIGHT
HudsonHawk
Shortly after Hetero Doxy proclaimed Houston a “chickenshit sports town” because KILT doesn’t broadcast Astroline over the Internet and that it was ultimately George W. Bush’s fault, HudsonHawk offered a theory on how HD developed his unique brand of logic…
“Yep, that’s right. Prior to George W. Bush becoming governor, things were different. You see, way back in 1994, Houston was just a small farming community of 800 or so people. Everyone loved each other. The churches were full and no one ever dreamed of there being a topless bar in town. The other great thing was, there were 137 sportstalk radio stations, and all but one of them broadcast over the internet. There was no industry, no pollution, and no traffic, well except when farmer Johnson’s cattle got loose on Westheimer. You see, Westheimer was just a dirt road back then and whenever there were cows loose, the traffic was just a mess, John Deeres three and four deep! HD was in paradise. Then, depression set in. George W. Bush was elected governor of Texas. Governor Bush, Dubya to his friends and enemies alike, wasn’t from around these parts. He had recently completed a stint as managing general partner of HD’s favorite baseball team, the Texas Rangers. However, Dubya was on HD’s shit list. He had traded away his favorite player, Sammy Sosa, and then committed the ultimate crime against humanity. He fired HD’s hero, Bobby Valentine. HD knew it was only a matter of time before Dubya destroyed his beloved town Houston. Now, 6 years later, just look at Houston. A city of 4 million people, cars everywhere, and refineries and chemical plants blowing pollution all to hell. The worst part is, as soon as Houston started to grow, the necks moved in. They got themselves elected mayor, city councilmen, judges, and dog catcher. Of course when the necks moved in, the decent, hard-working, upstanding sportstalk radio stations moved out. Sadly, they were replaced by guys like Kenny Hand and John Granato, corporate welfare lackey necks. Oh, if only you could have seen Houston in the good old days, the early 1990’s.”
FINEST “NM” RESPONSE
Roger Cedeno’s OTHER Spleen
In response to a post about the rejection by both local and state judges of the application for an alcohol permit for Little Woodrow’s bar (proposed downtown near EFUS, but more importantly, right next to Annunciation Catholic Church and Incarnate Word Academy)…
“I guess the nuns prefer a 500 foot radius of vacant lots, winos and beagle-sized rats [nm]”
HONORABLE MENTION: Hetero Doxy
The wonderful thing about this one is that it is applicable to any TZ thread…
“you bushlets need to pass the bong- doping your way thru school only works if your daddy is a congressman (nm)”
FINEST SUBJECT LINE
Limey
“Michael Bolton a No Talent Ass Clown – Official”
MOST SUCCESSFUL RESET OF A PAST HOF TAKE
knoxbanedoodle
After pravata reminded us of his famous “ferret on double expresso” line…
“I used to work at a coffee shop. We force fed some rodents double shots of espresso but never ferrets. Missed opportunities, I guess.”
MOST RIDICULOUS MISUSE OF A JOHN FACENDA IMPRESSION
No? In Austin – (Honorable Mention for TAKE OF THE YEAR)
After the first annual TZ softball game was completed, No? In Austin foolishly took the name of legendary NFL Films announcer John Facenda in vain. Kev & Scott however, do not feel the need to shut the barn door after the horses have already run out. Instead they recommend that users with broadband access download an MP3 of the greatest musical composition of all time and listen to it while reading. Text is bolded for appropriate emphasis…
“If you could get John Facenda, (a.k.a. ‘The Voice of God’) to read the report from yesterday?s epic struggle between Houston and Austin, would it sound/read something like this:
‘They were Houston men of perhaps questionable courage, or intelligence, who decided to take on what must of seemed the weight of the world in a power struggle known only to many as a mere softball game. The reality, however, is that it was much more than a game. It was a destiny for all these road warriors, one that they would surely remember for as long as their tired, worn bodies would remind them.
For when they got into their vehicles to travel to Austin, little did they know that they were walking into a waking nightmare of an opponent known only as the Steel Curtain of death, or Curly?s Heroes to those who loved them.
The fact is, nobody gave them much of a chance, therefore there wasn?t much to lose. Maybe it was the realization by the Houston leadership that they had to open up on offense and give all they had if they had any chance to win.
Whatever the reason, these inspired road warriors came looking to conquer their opponent with speed, elegance, and power all in one violent attack that could only be termed as misguided and amusing.”
It began as most softball game do, with the taunting and banter that quickly converts the man into the child that is required to step into arena of play. Today it was the ice-bucket chill of a Central Texas winter and a field that was not the frozen tundra as expected, but a sand covered infield that gave way to an outfield of grass that would surely try the souls, and hamstrings of the brave combatants. This sand would surely mix with blood as the dubious will to win would take over and all matters of the world would be forgotten for a few short hours. Only the struggle within the field of play would be the focus and the broken bodies that would lay as testament to really good ideas with really bad execution.
The muscles strained this hour, the arms lifted in the air in victorious rage, and the eyes fixed on the objective for each player. To the players, reality is one against one.
Move and counter move. Nowhere is this conflict more evident than at the fringe of the battlefield, where the participants match glares. Here cunning and speed determine the victor. One-on-one. The battle where the loser bleeds alone on an open field. Strange silence, the sort of silence reserved for religious experiences, is also a partner to this huge task at hand. More muscles strained, more pumping of fist. Men fixed on the prize with a determination that can only be described as awe-inspiring. But enough about the beer drinking around the keg, there was also a game to be played.
Many runs scored on the porous defense displayed by both teams. So much so, children cried and women laughed at the pitiful exhibition. There was, however, the gritty display by Austin?s Curly, who showed dedication and fortitude unlike has ever been seen in these types of endeavors before. In the end all that was left was to forget about the recreational activity that required muscles aches and pains and to retire to fight again another day. At the post-game ceremonies, where reality would give way to overblown descriptions of miraculous feats on the field, the whole affair was summed up nicely by not a survivor of the contest, but a little 2-1/2 year old boy who screamed:
‘Wahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaha… Oh…’ and then silently retired to the other room to ponder about life. A lesson to all that day and surely words of wisdom.'”
BEST SLAP OF OCTOGENARIANS NOT CONTAINING A DEPENDS UNDERGARMENT REFERENCE
Limey
In response to one of Alkie’s spring training reports from Kissimmee, which included a complaint that buying tickets “took about 30 minutes because the 1,000 year old couple in front of us didn’t understand what ‘March’ was,” Limey became reminded of one of the Sunshine State’s lesser known courtesies…
“Is it true that every restaurant in FL will liquify any meal in a blender and serve it with a straw?”
BEST LIKELY ALZHEIMERS-INDUCED POST
Abe Simpson
During a discussion back in March on why some dugouts are physically “dug out”, while others remain at field level…
“We can’t bust heads like we used to, but we have our ways. One trick is to tell them stories that don’t go anywhere. Like that time I took the ferry over to Shelbyville; I needed a new heel for my shoe. So, I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt, which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a nickle, and in those days, nickles had pictures of bumblebees on them. “Give me five bees for a quarter,” you’d say. Now where were we? Oh yeah, the important thing was that I had an onion on my belt, which was the style at the time. They didn’t have any white onions, because of the war; the only thing you can get was those big yellow ones. And that’s why dugouts are called bullpens.”
FINEST SLAM OF AN ASTROS BROADCASTER
JB
Surprisingly, Bill Worrell was not the recipient of this laserbeam…
“Do NOT . . . EVER . . . EVER . . . (one more time for emphasis) EVER . . . besmirch the good names and careers of men like Babe Ruth, Walter Johnson, Honus Wagner, and Jimmie Foxx by referring to Milo ‘The Shill’ Hamilton as a Hall of Famer. In a year when there were obviously no other candidates, Milo received the Ford Frick Award. That means his name is engraved on a little metal plate on a sign located somewhere in the Hall of Fame building in Cooperstown. By that standard, Pete Rose and Eddie Gaedel are Hall of Famers, too! While it saddens me greatly that the likes of Red Barber and Mel Allen have to share space with a two-bit satellite dish salesman, let’s not compound this crime against humanity and our precious national pasttime by buying into Milo’s sad, pathetic fantasy that he is a Hall of Famer. This is the same man who at this year’s Houston Baseball Dinner turned to Jeff Bagwell and said, ‘Jeff, I’ve seen that daughter of yours and you should look forward to having a son because SHE looks just like YOU!’ Moron.”
BEST EXCUSE FOR BEING REFUSED AN AUTOGRAPH
No? In Austin, as told by Curly
One day in TZ, No? In Austin was whining about being dissed by Denny Walling as a youth in the 80s. Curly was able to provide the rest of the story…
“Noe came up to him with a ball in one hand, two Lowenbraus clinging to the plastic six pac rings in the other, and a third of a pound of barrio queso embeded in the front of his Farrah Fawcett tank top. I’d tell him to go to hell too.”
BEST REACTION TO A BASEBALL MILESTONE
matadorph
After Hetero Doxy reported in TZ that Barry Bonds had just sent career yack number 500 into San Francisco Bay, we all learned more than we wanted to about matadorph’s evening…
“You know it’s just not your night when you wait and wait and wait for Barry to come to bat only to leave him with one AB left all because you’re hoping and praying that you’ll get lucky with the new hottie at the restaurant who’s feedin’ you crumbs like a bored old man with the pigeons in the park and she ditches you at the rawk show for the keyboardist who’s invited her to the after-show party and you go home alone yet again only to discover the big splash into McCovey Cove. Mutherfucker.”
BEST EXPOSE
Andyzipp
During a thread on Twins SS Cristian Guzman that turned into a commentary on why Pokey Reese wears his hat crooked…
“Pokey Reese actually has a lopsided head. Sure he tried to hide it by joining the CornRow Club for men, but the second he puts that cap on, the lumpy rutherford is there for all the world to see. Word is MLB is working on a intricate series of “under the lid” counterweights and pulleys to balance things out. Until then, he’ll just have to live with the ridicule.”
BEST ACCOUNT OF ON-FIELD ACTION
Bagman5
This was from GAMEZONE in June. After Tough Tony Eusebio got hit by a fastball squarely on top of his left hand and TZ-legend pravata surmised that trainer Rex Jones’ evaluation consisted simply of poking the already swollen meat hook and asking repeatedly “does this hurt?”…”does this hurt?…”does this hurt?”, etc., Bagman5 offered Tony’s most likely response…
“Ow, Si’. Ow, Si’. Ow, Si’ estupido!”
MOST ASTUTE OBSERVATION
Hetero Doxy
TZOL was not alone in noticing the coach’s deviance from his normal pattern one Friday afternoon, but HD truly put the anomoly in perspective, and somehow used the opportunity as a springboard to bash the political right. This is talent, folks…
“can an astrologer out there (maybe a reagan republican) help me? raup has started 2 threads today. is some moon of some planet in some form of retrograde?”
ROOKIE OF THE YEAR
HudsonHawk
One of the powerful new heirs to the TalkZone legacy, HudsonHawk ran roughshod in some of the most supreme debates seen on the board in 2000-2001. Possessing a perfect blend of baseball sense, enthusiasm, skepticism, spelling ability and intolerance, this already-seasoned pro has at times reminded us of the unflappable TZ-legend Prince Of Heck. We look forward to what promises to be an amazing TZ career.
FINEST ALTERNATIVE SPORTS TAKE, AND WHAT THE HELL …
TAKE OF THE YEAR
Curly
This one occurred mere days after the 2000 HOF Spectacular, when all the rage was the addition of Dennis Miller to the MNF booth. Curly’s unexpected, unassailable masterpiece lit TZ like a Christmas tree before taking the country’s e-mail boxes by storm and eventually earning a slot at ilovebacon.com…
“What are viewers in for with Dennis Miller in the Monday Night Football booth? You have no idea, cha-cha.
AL MICHAELS: Hello and welcome to another edition of ABC’s Monday Night Football, tonight broadcasting from beautiful Fed Ex Field in Washington, D.C. I’m Al Michaels, and joining me in the booth are two new members of the ABC family, Dennis Miller and Dan Fouts.
DENNIS MILLER: Wow, Monday Night Football. I don’t want to appear nervous, but I’m under more strain right now than Linda Tripp’s Capri pants. I have to tell you, I’m conflicted about this. I usually like to be the outsider, the rabble-rouser, the iconoclast, but I also like a nice seat at a sporting event. And this seat is as nice as they get – except I think I took one of Boomer’s old squeak toys up the ass when I sat down.
DAN FOUTS: I was a quarterback.
MILLER: Thanks for that insight, Mr. Peabody. Dan Fouts, everyone. I’m looking over here, and he’s giving me that same blank stare I see when I put my dog on the phone. Hey, this isn’t the Senior Tour, Chi Chi. Try to keep up.
MICHAELS: Tonight the New England Patriots will try to get started on the right foot after a disappointing 8-8 showing last season. They take on the Washington Redskins, whose owner, Daniel Snyder, has paid out $65 million in free agent salaries and bonus payments in the off-season and is looking for results.
MILLER: Snyder is throwing around cash like a screech monkey playing with a pop-up Kleenex dispenser. But he’s a real hard-ass – it must be great to coach this team. Norv Turner comes to work every day, hands his balls to Gus, the 80-year-old equipment guy, who puts them in a footlocker behind the Stairmaster until the end of the game. Did you catch that one ass-chewing Turner received last season? Lee Harvey Oswald got off easier in that little room at the Dallas P.D. And when Turner finally got out of there you could tell he was looking around, desperately praying for Jack Ruby to show up and end his fucking misery.
MICHAELS: The teams are on the field, and we’re almost set for the kickoff.
FOUTS: I was the quarterback. I didn’t go on the field for the kickoff.
MILLER: Jesus, Shaggy, saunter on back to the Mystery Machine and take a breather, OK? Why don’t you pick up your brain off that pile of papers it’s holding down and see what happens when you plug it in? The game’s starting, and I feel like Corporal Agarn trying to explain supply and demand to the fucking Hakowis.
MICHAELS: As always, the Fuji Blimp makes its annual appearance at Monday Night Football. Glad to have you back, gentlemen.
MILLER: It is balloooooooooon! (High-pitched cackle).
MICHAELS: Starting at quarterback for the Redskins will be Jeff George, whom I guess one could call a journeyman at this point in his career.
MILLER: I have to admit, when I saw George on the roster I thought he had as much chance of making the team as Linda Hunt on the set of Baywatch. This guy’s been around – he’s called a lot of plays under a lot of centers. He’s seen more giant asses than a guest chair on the Jerry Springer Show.
MICHAELS: Snyder spent plenty in the offseason to sign star players such as Deion Sanders and Darrell Green on defense.
MILLER: Yeah, but look at that Fantasia broom army of social misfits the Redskins call an offensive line. I have a feeling that George’s appearance tonight is going to be shorter than Mini-Me stooping over to pick up one of Dr. Evil’s monocles.
MICHAELS: George drops back to pass, moves out of the pocket and finds the veteran Michael Westbrook, who is tackled after an 11-yard gain.
MILLER: Look, I’m new, I don’t know that much about defensive schemes. But it seems to me right there that the middle was as vacant as an interview with Posh Spice.
FOUTS: I was in a Miller beer commercial, and your last name is Miller.
MILLER: Hey, Aristotle, save some of the probing insight for the rest of us, OK? How come I’m getting the funny feeling that this is an episode of The Munsters, and I’m Marian, the normal one? Now, I don’t want to get off on a rant here, but the useful comments coming from your side of the booth could be counted on the one hand of a bad wood shop teacher. I can still see the jelly on your forehead where the electroshock terminals were attached. When I took this job, they didn’t tell me that I would be teamed with Pepe the Human Hamster on one side, and on the other a broken-down ex-quarterback who makes Jethro Bodine look like David Niven. I want to find the psychotic network programmers who thought up this train wreck and point out that this shit has to be harder to watch than a sausage being made.
FOUTS: I like sausage.
MILLER: Ah fuck it, where’s my propeller hat?
MICHAELS: The handoff is to Stephen Davis, who is tackled at the 39-yard line by defensive tackle Henry Thomas. But there’s a flag on the play.
MILLER: I’d have to say that was the poorest result since O.J. took the lie-detector test. And look at that ref, will ya? He’s got more nervous tics than a Belfast valet.
MICHAELS: That play will be brought back, making it first and 20 from the 49-yard line.
MILLER: Hey, who took my Raisinettes? Damn you, Roone Arledge! Damn you to hell!
MICHAELS: George back to pass … and the throw to Westbrook falls incomplete. Ty Law covering on the play.
MILLER: I don’t want to be a downer here, but how about throwin’ the freakin’ ball to the other side of the field, you know, cha-cha? You’ve got Westbrook drawing a bigger crowd than Anna Kournikova at the maximum-security lockdown at Rikers, while meanwhile the kid on the other side is lonelier than a hooker at a Star Trek convention.
MICHAELS: To be fair, there have only been four plays so far.
MILLER: Come on Al, you missing link. That receiver is being shunned like an Amish kid with a nipple ring. The left side of the field is to George as a shower is to the French. You’ve got a better shot at hearing Charlie Sheen give the keynote address at a Promise Keepers rally than you do of ever –
MICHAELS: Sorry to break in on you, Dennis, but Washington is guilty of a false start, and that will set them back another five yards.
MILLER: The ref is whipping out that flag like it’s the only lighter at a crack house.
Later that evening:
MICHAELS: So your final score is Washington 17, New England 10. We’re headed off to San Francisco for our next Monday night broadcast, hope to see you there.
MILLER: I may be late; I don’t fly. It’ll be me in my Chevy Nova playing Mad Max with the Madden Cruiser all the way down Route 66, and you’ll know I’m winning when Pavorotti starts hurling six-legged turkeys out the skylight for ballast.
MICHAELS: What will you be doing with your remaining time in Washington, D.C.?
FOUTS: Doing a little sightseeing.
MILLER: I’ll be back at the hotel, masturbating like a red-assed monkey watching the Banana Channel.
MICHAELS: So from all of us here at Monday Night Football, see you next week.”
Viva Curly.
(Editor’s Note: to experience the maximum impact of the following dramatic announcement, please conjure image of the 68-year old, mini-skirted Tina Turner crooning “Simply The Best”)
2001 TALK ZONE MVP
Limey
In this volatile, unpredictable world, several things do remain consistent: Limey will average more posts per workday than anyone else, will “outscoop” every other wire-watcher, and will deliver coherent takes on virtually any subject. While legends slack and idiots flail, Limey is as constant as the northern star.
After building momentum for the past couple of seasons, the recent mastery of the one-liner and grasp of ‘major smack-running’ has catapulted this gladiator to a lofty position among TZ’s elite. An amazing ability to drop even the most obscure breaking news on TZ at headbreaking speed, tremendous crackdowns, disturbing alternative entertainment recommendations, an unmatchable number of posts, and a zero-tolerance policy on idiot frontrunners have helped to establish Limey as one of the board’s largest presences.
His ability to enlighten Zone-dwellers on the nuances of ‘futbol’ and hooliganism has also made him an invaluable information resource to the horde of ‘necks that frequent this place daily.
Props to Limey for his selection as MVP and 2001 KING OF THE ZONE. It should also be pointed out that Breedlove, pravata and No? In Austin earn MVP honorable mentions for their sterling efforts over the past year, making this year’s race for the Golden Scott one of the closest ever.