AJ Daulerio's Cultural Oddsmaker runs every Friday. Feel free to email him your thoughts.
Ladies who someday wish to grace the sidelines of a major sporting event, take heed: Your knowledge is primary, of course, but you'll also have to be somewhat attractive. This is not breaking news, mind you, but each year it seems more and more women are realizing that just because they know how to read box scores or can talk intelligently about a game, they're still required to be completely boneable to the drooling masses.
Take Playboy's America's Sexiest Sportscaster award. Granted, it might be an honor that many female sportscasters don't necessarily aspire towards, but consider this: Playboy has no repeat nominees. So, each year, Hefner and company has to find a new batch of lady jock-yappers to be scrutinized by discerningPlayboy readers.
One person who's obviously gotten the memo? Linda Cohn. In the last month, she's started blowing out her hair and finally seeing results from her Pilates classes. She's gone from looking like an elementary school special needs teacher to a substantially hotter elementary school special needs teacher. So, if you spot Cohn exiting the Bristol offices and a pack of screaming, limping kids wearing biking helmets are following her, don't' be alarmed: She's not being chased by zombies; she's just wearing Spanx.
I am probably one of the last men on earth under the age of 50 who still has a Playboy subscription, so that's the only reason I'm aware of this contest. I still read the joke page even though I heard most of them when I was seven, and still look forward to each month's pseudo-celebrity photo spread. Take this month, where the holy haunches of Kim Kardashian are triumphantly unveiled. For the first time in a while, this is actually a photo spread that's worth the $8 newsstand charge. Those of you out there who are hiney-obsessed, you'll be overjoyed.
But until Ms. Kardashian's bulbous bottom starts interviewing athletes and coaches, she's not up for the award.
So this week, I'm cashing in my Sephora gift certificate, dusting off my inner-outer thigh machine and placing odds on some of the nominees for Playboy's Sexiest Sportscaster of 2008.
Let's deform my face, then shake my skull cap. MORE.
Jeanne Zelasko: 3/1
She's probably the favorite, if Playboy's Viagra-chugging demographic were to actually take the time to finally figure out how to turn on their little-used computer. Zelasko's got that whole Kathy Lee Crosby thing rockin', and plenty of older, white World Series viewers probably took one look at here and thought, "Now, there's a lady whose stockings probably smell good." Plus, she doesn't seem terrified of Kevin Kennedy, who resembles most of Playboy readers.
Rachel Nichols: 2/1
Here's a tough one. Most guys under the age of 35 see Nichols pop up on ESPN and their like "Hey, that looks just like the girl from back home who gave me a handjob in the broom closet at that Bar Mitzvah I went to when I was 13," and get turned off. But then, the more you see her on screen, you start thinking back on that glorious day a little more and, before you know it, you're standing in your kitchen over the trashcan with a handful of Palmolive peeking around the corner so you can watch Nichols interview Reggie Bush. She's got fans. Nobody will admit it, but they're out there.
Colleen Dominguez: 4/1
She's the perfect woman for those early 40-ish dudes who actually pay for tanning salon memberships and express their abundance of self-confidence with an extra dollop of hair product. So, she's probably the favorite of the Steve Lavin-look-a-like set. Thing is, she is legitimately beautiful, but seems unapproachable because you know she's only interested in getting hit on by greasy assholes who wear obnoxiously large wrist watches.
Erin Andrews: 1/3
She's clearly the favorite, who's become the erection-inducing siren to the Shanoffian hordes of internet sports stalkers. Only problem is, many may feel slighted by her indifference towards her message board love letters and could express their hurt feelings by voting elsewhere. If Andrews were smart, she'd stop chasing around Pat White for mindless post-game sound bytes and just pose in a goddamned bikini already. Don't fight it, Erin. It's time to show the world that God was a studious craftsman with your body.