Let's adjust the Tiger Paramour-O-Meter accordingly:

Elsewhere:

• RadarOnline is reporting that Elin has moved out, but Tiger's reps are keeping it quiet because "they don't want any publicity about what is going on in the marriage."

• Tiger's mother-in-law, Barbro Holmberg, late of Sweden's Ministry for Foreign Affairs, has arrived.

• Esquire's Chris Jones looks at Tiger and sees his own philandering brother:

But it was all a façade, for both of them - not because they both pretended to stop being hounds, but because neither man was able to shed his tender geek heart. I don't think my brother or Woods ever managed to get over the idea women wanted to sleep with them. Despite their successes, despite the outward perfection of their lives, both of them still harbor a deep-seated, childhood insecurity that's only been made worse by middle-age vulnerability, by knee surgeries and receding hairlines. My brother and Woods both had affairs because they were looking for a validation that only sex with strangers gave them. That Woods's preference in road beef is, at best, medium-rare, just goes to show: In his mind, every time he made a new conquest, it was like the president of the chess club rocking the big-tittied cheerleader under the bleachers. Every hookup was another chance for him to prove to himself that he wasn't what he remembered he once was

* * * *

That's all for now. Thanks for your continued support of Deadspin.

No. There's no chance.

That's the problem with computers. They're so predictable. But how about the other BCS Bowls? Let's look at three prognosticators' bowl projections.

Brad Edwards, ESPN:

BCS Title Alabama versus Texas
Rose Bowl Ohio St. versus Oregon
Fiesta Bowl TCU versus Boise State
Orange Bowl Ga. Tech versus Iowa
Sugar Bowl Florida versus Cincinnati

Dennis Dodd, CBS Sports:

BCS Title Alabama versus Texas
Rose Bowl Ohio St. versus Oregon
Fiesta Bowl TCU versus Boise State
Orange Bowl Ga. Tech versus Iowa
Sugar Bowl Florida versus Cincinnati

Stewart Mandel, Sports Illustrated:

BCS Title Alabama versus Texas
Rose Bowl Ohio St. versus Oregon
Fiesta Bowl TCU versus Boise State
Orange Bowl Ga. Tech versus Iowa
Sugar Bowl Florida versus Cincinnati

Notice any patterns? So yeah, we're pretty much set. But make your contrarian predictions in the comments, and I'll be back with an update should anything absurd happen.

UPDATE: So it was written, so it came to pass. Interestingly, in the final BCS standings, Texas was number 2 in the Harris Poll and USA Today Poll...but behind Cincinnati in the computer rankings. Just sayin'.

•••••

Another weekend in the books. It's getting cold out there, so snuggle up with Tommy, Dash and Daulerio tomorrow.

Since some of you seemed alarmed and confused (or, more likely, bored?): those "BTW" links at the bottom of posts were helpful author bylines. To review, today's NYC Blogging Illuminati Young Manhattanite consisted of Katie Baker (Bill Simmons, were you reading?), Foster Kamer, Maura Johnston, "99" and Krucoff.

Since A.J. didn't give us access to tips@deadspin.com, we were forced to rely on tips from friends and (gasp!) our own ideas. (True story: We didn't even have a television. Our sole sports inspiration in the apartment we were huddled in is that picture above!) Here are some of the ones that didn't make it in:

Nice tribute to Umaga, the Samoan Bulldozer, who joined a long list of dead before the age of 50 pro wrestlers.

An Open Letter To Saints Fans. From a Giants Fan. Yeah, you go read that.

Two video ideas: 1) Re-creation of Erin Andrews scene starring Katie but we couldn't find an ironing board. 2) Shooting ourselves in a mock game of Knicks vs Nets on a local playground but thought that might lead us to literally shoot ourselves.

Katie considered bringing you a Where Are They Now of her favorite girls from childhood sports movies until she realized the work had been done for her. Then she thought about writing the definitive takedown of Lawrence Tynes but couldn't bring herself to view any of the necessary YouTubes.

Krucoff had a tentatively titled post "Hockey Dads Featuring Rod Langway and the Mustache You Rode In On" using last week's WaPo article on Langway's estranged relationship with his soccer daughter as a starting point to delve into other hockey dad stories. In addition to ESPN's piece on Maple Leafs GM Brian Burke's gay son (it includes the quote, "OK, Burkie's gay. Who cares? Pass the beer nuts.") there's Hockey Dad: A Play in 3 Periods which he wanted to work in "Cross-Chekhovian." It's a good thing he didn't get to this.

Foster has a short memo to his fantasy football league:

Jason Yarn, I can't believe you were actually winning for a moment this season. You went from not having a life to having even less of a life because you're actually taking the time to perform in our league. Jesus. Matt, I heard you got a girlfriend, I hope she knows you like to suck balls and cheat at Fantasy Football. Adair, I know you're not winning. I haven't checked the scores in two weeks because Brian "I've Got A Headache And Can't Run, That's All I Have To Do Is Fucking Run" Westbrook couldn't perform for me but I know you're not winning, because if I wasn't stupid enough to draft Westbrook, you would've, for the third year in a row. John, suck my ass. I don't want you to win either. That's all. You all suck, this season sucked, and, uh, who do I pay my $50 to? Also, Till, I'll hit you up with that $150 soon enough. WE SHOULD'VE PULLED MACLIN FROM THE WAIVER WIRE WHEN I TOLD YOU TO, THOUGH. But really, I pissed on my phone two weeks ago outside of B Bar and haven't been able to answer it since, but I know, I owe you. That's it. I hate Fantasy Football. Adrian Peterson can finger his own ass. So can the rest of you.

Lastly, there was a minor rumble in a tiny section of the New York blogosphere this past week over hooking up. Imagine that. It started with John Carney's Guide to Holiday Romance, followed by Melissa Lafsky's rebuttal. Let's hear it for elliptically broad sweeping generalizations! So how about it: we leave it to you, DUAN, to come up with the Sports Fan Guide to Holiday Romance. Here are a few to get you started.

Don't date any woman who...

... makes it a point to cheer louder than you. She has something to prove, namely, she recognized a play you just taught her.

... understands betting. She knows how to access your credit account. Enjoy that lien on property you didn't know you owned.

... invites your friends over to watch a game. She is sleeping with them. All of them. At the same time.

... goes to college football games with her step-father. She already has her child's funeral gown picked out.

***
Thanks for your continued support of Young Manhattanite.

The book is called Purple Reign, which also seems presumptuous, but what it lacks in reserve it more than makes up for in GIANT COLOR PHOTOGRAPHS OF BRETT FAVRE. Here's what the publisher has to say, in language borrowed from Tiger Beat:

Brett Favre is an American institution. A living breathing sports icon. One of the most popular and interesting athletes of this or any generation. Just when you think you've seen it all from the gunslinger from Mississippi, he ends up on the banks of the Mississippi River in Minnesota to re-write the record books yet again. His path to purple was paved with unbelievable drama and suspense, much like the 2009 season. Follow the journey every step of the way, from the invitation he received to join a budding powerhouse with just one missing link ... through the miraculous finishes on the field ... and excitement off of it.

Oh, there's more:

Stunning, full-color photographs throughout the book preserve this epic moment in history for generations to come!

Brett Favre's first season in Minnesota will go down as the most memorable in the history of the franchise. This book captures every spine-tingling moment from the day he received the first call to come to Minnesota, to his dramatic arrival, all the way past the first half of the 2009 season. The memories in this book will be cherished forever by current and future generation of Vikings fans.

Forever, or at least until his fourth interception in the NFC championship game.

Brett Favre: Magical Memories in Minnesota [Star Tribune]

* * * * *

Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Tomorrow, we have some very special guest editors: the crew from Young Manhattanite. These people, I am told, will make Moe Tkacik look like Ring Lardner. Be sure to check in. Barry will be here on Sunday to restore order and frustrate the toe-fetishists among you. Thanks for your continued support of Deadspin.

A fellow named Josh Fitz believes he's found that proof. You'll see, first of all, that Dick Jauron is curiously absent from a photo that makes room for everyone from Ralph Wilson Jr. to the assistant equipment manager to something called Gibran Hamdan. Fitz writes:

1. Xavier Oman (#44) is in the photo. He was waived on 11/11. Jauron wasn't fired until 11/17. This photo couldn't have been taken after his firing.

2. Ralph and Brandon seem to be a little off-center. It seems that the logical place for Dick to be standing is right next to Ralph, where the three would be perfectly centered in the photo.

3. Who is in that spot? Jairus Byrd. And he seems larger than normal. In the photo he looks slightly taller than #29 next to him (Drayton Florence). Except Byrd is listed at 5′ 10″ and Florence is 6′ 0″. See a zoomed-in photo

4. Take a look at #29's right ear. He seems to have some extra pixel's… either that, or Kawika Mitchell has a seriously weird forearm.

Conclusion: The players were digitally shifted over to cover up Jauron's image.

(Emphasis definitely his.)

I don't know. That seems like a lot of work to expunge any trace of a nothingburger like Dick Jauron. Maybe he's just made the sensible decision to stay the hell away from team photos that everyone knows will be obsolete by midseason.

Bills' Former Head Coach Photoshopped Out of Team Photo? [JoshFitz.com, via Two Bills Drive]

* * * * *

Thanks for your continued support of Woodspin. Barry will be on in a second.

So chew on that for a while and trudge through the outrage if you want to and then decide for yourself if it's really worth getting angry over or that, possibly, sometimes made-up trend-pieces are just made-up trend pieces and not anthropological studies meant to advance any conversation. "Cock loitering" is the new "lamestain," really.

And now we'll go back to talking about the unfolding melodrama in the golf world, where Jesper Parnevik, matchmaker for Elin and Tiger, has gone to the mattresses against the cooze-hounding bastard.

"I would be especially sad about it since I'm kind of — I feel really sorry for Elin — since me and my wife were at fault for hooking her up with him," Parnevik said. "We probably thought he was a better guy than he is. I would probably need to apologize to her and hope she uses a driver next time instead of the 3-iron."

One person guaranteed to not react so harshly against, Tiger? Whitlock. Pussy Galore and Strange 'Tang shall rise again tomorrow.

PHOTO: Star

****

Thanks for your continued support of TigerSpin. Barry Petchesky will shine the light on you in a few.

From The Salt Lake Tribune :

The Salt Lake Tribune first reported Monday that Whittingham suffered a cut lip during an altercation on the field after the game. The photos, by a photographer with US Presswire, show an unidentified BYU fan latching on to Whittingham as he is being restrained by other fans. A second photo shows Whittingham and her daughter backpedaling from the altercation.

BYU police reported two different complaints were filed involving on-field scuffles in or near the area Jamie Whittingham and her daughter were following the game.

Idiot fan violence is a noble Holy War tradition, dating at least as far back as 1896, when police were called in to break up a brawl. It was one reason BYU dropped its football program from 1898 until 1922. "A burning cauldron of rivalry loathing," is how the Tribune's Gordon Monson puts it. Still, this latest outbreak has left Monson so shaken that he's throwing around Star Wars dialogue:

It's more likely, sadly, that it will go the other way, and Hall's words about hate will generate more hate. When I sat directly in front of him and heard them come out of his mouth, it reminded me of the quote spoken by that great philosopher Yoda.

"Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering."

So, in the most homogeneous state in the Union, one sect of impossibly blond people has managed to find a reason to irrationally hate another sect of impossibly blond people. Awesome. Somewhere, Joseph Smith is stuffing his head in his hat again.

MWC reprimands Hall; photos show altercation [Salt Lake Tribune]
Monson: There's too much hate in BYU-Utah rivalry [Salt Lake Tribune]

* * * * *

Thanks for your continued support of Deadspin. Barry Petchesky's here tonight.

Use this as your open thread, and be grateful that something of note is happening in the sports world that does not involve Tiger Woods or Grady Sizemore's strategically placed cup of Oolong.

Saints, Patriots trade praise before swapping hits [CBSSports.com]

* * * * *

Thanks for your continued support of Deadspin.

Let's not forget that Lawrence Frank holds the records for most wins to start a coaching tenure. And let's not forget that New Jersey shipped out the last remaining member of their Big Three at the start of this season. But someone has to take the fall for making East Rutherford the least attractive destination for LeBron, despite their piles of available cash.

I don't know about you, but I think the next two games for the Nets are just about the most fascinating matchups in this young season. The Lakers and Mavericks, with a combined eight losses between them, are all that stand between NJ and history. Assistant Tom Barrise will be on the bench for tonight's game against the defending champs, and then they'll have a cross-country flight and three long days to contemplate Dallas coming to town.

A losing streak is so much more identifiable with than an undefeated streak. We were awed by Tom Brady, and are amazed by Peyton Manning and Drew Brees, because they're light years beyond us. First, to play at a professional level, and second, to never lose? That's unfathomable. But to go down day after day, week after week is a universal feeling.

Whether it be a cold streak with women, or a terrible run in fantasy football, or even a general sense that life has never stopped shitting on us, we all know how the Nets feel. They'll try their hardest tonight, and they may still lose. Because sometimes that's what happens. Sometimes, no matter what you do, you just can't win.

•••••

Thanks for joining me today for Deadspin: Canada. We'll return you to your regularly scheduled Tiger Beat tomorrow.

Well folks, that about wraps it up for me today. Thanks for stopping by.

And of course, thank you for your continued support of Deadspin. Barry Petchesky takes the reins tomorrow to guide you through all of the NFL action. So y'all come back now, ya hear?

I'm fairly confident you don't need me to tell you this, but there is still one whole evening and an entire day left of the Thanksgiving holiday weekend. Please do your best to make the most of it. Or don't. It's up to you. I'm easy like Sunday morning, man.

Best ESPN College GameDay Signs (11/28/09) [That Fan]

If you haven't seen it already, here is the Denver coach reminding his players last night that "all we're trying to do is win the motherfucking game." Guess he forgot to tell them that during their recent four-game losing streak. Anyway, it's all good. The announcers apologized immediately and today the Network offered up a hilarious apology, where an executive producer admitted that his team made a "terrible mistake," while simultaneously marveling at how awesome their microphones are. You can hear everything! You should definitely call your cable operator and subscribe today!

Also, Denver won the motherfucking game so keep up the smack talk, Josh. Swearing works, kids!

Josh McDaniels Just Wants to Win a Motherf–king Game! [The Last Angry Fan]
NFL Network: We Made 'Terrible Mistake' [Fanhouse]

* * * * *

Ok, that's enough for today. Go dig some leftovers out of the fridge and enjoy whatever college football and/or basketball you can find on TV tonight. Weed Against Barry will keep you company as usual this weekend.

We're thankful for your continued support of Holiday Deadspin. If you can find a video with a greater contrast between its peppy upbeat music and awkwardly depressing visuals, then post it below.

Moe_Mahogany is incensed:

Man Fuc That Blaisain MF golf aint even a sport..cant wait to rob that nicca

PhatKatBurglar tries to reason with him:

Tiger don't phuck up man, you got a nice little pinktoe at home.

HotSauce commends his jump-off choice:

The jump-off ain't that bad. I guess he didn't want cheat down like that dude from ESPN. Either go same level, or cheat up. Oh, yeah, Tiger doesn't claim his black side because he gets his golf skills from his Asian side. If this was basketball, then it would be different. LoL!...that should start some shyt!

Bluepeas offers an alternate theory:

His wife probably can't cook..or use Hamburger Helper, seriously. The way to any black man's heart is thru his stomach. My kid's paternal granny taught me that. When I was young & didn't cook yet, I wouldn't trust a man worth a shyt. But now that I cook about 5,6 cultures of all different foods & bake my butt off...I can't get rid of'em for nothing! I'm juggling 3 cats & don't have sex w/ none of'em

And then YoungYacht keeps everybody in check:

We dont know if this is true, he looks to square and business-focused to trip up like this. But you never can tell.

If it is true Tiger aint trying to smash nothing darker than a white paper bag.

*********

Thanks for your continued support of Deadspin. Have a glorious holiday. Be sure to stop by tomorrow for what is now an annual Deadspin Thanksgiving tradition: the Thanksgivingaroo. Or whatever Drew calls it. We'll be back for a little while on Friday.

Be safe out there tonight. Go be like a family.

By the looks of these photos, most of these fine upstanding individuals seem to be conducting themselves just like most other sots would during a tailgate.

If you're featured in this photo gallery, please do not fucking email me to complain about how you will get fired from your job that pays you way too much money. Your names aren't listed. Let's keep it that way. If it upsets you that much, try to convince your friends not to post all of your shenanigans on Facebook. Or, you know, don't get arrested for public urination.

In fact, be more like this guy:

Who's that kid, I need to send him a congratulatory email.

Same thing happened to me in 1987 at Yale Bowl in New Haven. Couldn't get out of the Bowl to piss, so went to the back and pissed on the press box. Perp walked, paddy wagoned, spent the game sitting on a concrete floor in a pile of cigarette ash in New Haven lockup. A lot warmer than the subzero bleachers, I have to say.

I think New Haven PD loves "The Game", they get to bust Yalie f*@ks and — in a nice two-fer — little Harvard f@#ks while they're at it. Fish in a barrel

Full report on Saturday's game coming tomorrow.

Thanks for your continued support of Deadspin. Barry's here soon.

(Photo: DPShow)

This person was strung-up for public urination, which at a port-o-potty deprived event like this, is the equivalent of getting busted for weed at the High Times Christmas party. Luckily, this fine upstanding individual was only given a citation that will surely be framed and placed over his toilet for the rest of his life.

****

Thanks for your continued support of Deadspin. I'm off to hit golf balls with Jim Furyk.

Use this space to #duan, #MNF, or #hashtagsymbols.

It's tough to deny MLS has made strides in recent years. Fanbases in LA, Seattle, Philly, Chicago and Toronto are legitimately passionate for soccer, and actually back their passion up with their wallets. The league is expanding regularly, and hasn't abandoned a city since 2005 (and then promptly gave San Jose a replacement franchise). Tonight's MLS Cup is on primetime on ESPN, in soccer-mad Seattle, and features two of the biggest stars in the league in Landon Donovan and David Beckham (in that order

So why won't I be watching?

I do enjoy soccer; I haven't missed a USMNT game in five years. And while the level of play in MLS is second rate compared to domestic leagues in some countries, the fact that they're evenly matched against each other makes the games just as exciting.

The fact is, MLS would have worked before satellite TV. There's enough soccer fans in this country now to support a league, but with Premiership and Serie A and Bundesliga and La Liga and Ligue 1 and a host of South American leagues on television every week, I'm going to watch and follow those before I'm going to get into MLS. Unless I have a vested interest.

I suppose I just haven't been able to get emotionally involved in the league. I don't know the players, the rivalries, or the storylines. My local team has been horrible forever (notwithstanding last year's fluke title game appearance), so their games aren't appointment viewing. I still have yet to go to a game, because it's near impossible to get there without a car (the new stadium opening next year will help).

The league can't control parity, but they can get their players out there so I'm forced to pay attention. Stuff like Chris Seitz slinging fish at Pike Place Market, pictured above. Let their personalities show. Where's MLS's Chad Ochocinco, or Sean Avery? Where's the player who'll make me tune in to see what they'll do next?

So let your freak flag fly, MLS. Bring in the washed up big name players from overseas. Break out the cheerleaders. Encourage over-the-top goal celebrations. Give me something I can sink my teeth into, because competent play just isn't cutting it. Sure it'll piss off the purists, but they've never been numerous enough to keep the game thriving here.

Now if you'll excuse me, Eagles/Bears is coming on soon.

•••••

Thanks for letting me into your modem, as we begin a mercifully abbreviated week. Remember, there's strings attached to every single blogger.

Alright, kids: another Saturday is in the books. Have a great night. Barry Petchesky will be your guide tomorrow. Treat him well.

Thank you for your continued support of Deadspin.

Because that November is a time which I must put out of my mind...

Oh my God. That video is awkward. I have just realized that Morrissey is much better when he is simply heard, not seen. But who isn't, right? Other than Bobcat Goldthwait, although he's not that pleasant to look at either. Just forget it.

Good night.

(thanks to James for the pic)

He opted for a beardless Klosterman because "beards are difficult in this medium — too inky." So let that genius insight ooze into your lobes, budding napkin artistes.

Enough.

*****

Hopefully, Jay Mariotti's Underground photo will surface this weekend. Tomorrow, I'll be taking the first part of the morning and Grass Against Greenies has the afternoon. Sunday, Barry Poopchesky rides the snake.

Thanks for your continued support of Deadspin. SKEETS! out.

It seems like it was only two years ago (it was two years ago) that Our Captain was seen sunning himself on the beach with a face full of Jessica Biel's squat-enhanced rump. Before that, it was those busty teenage girls. This year, it's Minka Kelly from "Friday Night Lights", sprawled out on a dock in St. Bart's as Our Captain watches the tide roll away, wasting time.

If anything, these photos should make pudgy journos reconsider that sentimental MVP vote again because, you know, fuck that guy.

Gallery at PopSugar

*****

Thanks for your continued support of Deadspin. Keep Barry warm tonight.

Whitlock's become the arbiter of pudginess in the last few months (and Becky-getting-on-ing), first having issue with Serena's ballooning weight and now Mangino's girth. Unlike the Williams column, which seemed unnecessarily cruel considering the woman had just won the U.S. Open, Whitlock suggests Mangino's temper is a direct result of his obesity. Whitlock knows this because he's also a hefty-sized individual who's also struggled with weight problems:

Beyond X's and O's, good coaching is a transference of energy. It takes a massive amount of energy to impact 100 boys on a college campus. At his age (53) and weight, Mangino cannot sustain the necessary energy level to positively influence his players. His team is being engulfed by his negative energy, a dark spirit driven by his excess weight.

And Whitlock stays on this track throughout the column, offering that firing Mangino right now would be the "humane thing to do", as if he's an obese old labrador retriever suffering from hip dysplasia. But he recovers nicely:

If he spent two years away from football addressing his weight problem, applied for a job at 270 pounds, he would be a can't-miss BCS candidate. Heck, he would be a terrific choice to coach in the NFL.

So, if Andy Reid weighed 270 pounds throughout most of his coaching career, the Eagles would have won four Super Bowls by now. I love this logic. The Eagles front office should get Coach Reid a Lap-Band to salvage the season.

****

Thanks for your continued support of Deadspin. Barry Petchesky, 165-pounds of rompin', stompin' dynamite, blogs through the witching hour.

As you're probably well aware, the Red Hawks lost on a buzzer beater by uber-frosh John Wall, even though they led by as many as 18 points early in the game. Some might see that as a moral victory. Others, a terrible debacle. Those two viewpoints collided during the post-game press conference.

"I can't believe you asked that .... Let me see here, Kentucky Wildcats, number-four in the country, I'm hearing four first-round draft choices, and you're asking me how that got away from me? Why don't you ask John why it was so close? I'm not going to answer that question man.

The dressing down continued, but just enjoy it yourself. There's no coach quite like an angry, disrespected coach.

Charlie Coles Can Sometimes Get a Little Touchy [WKYT, via Brooks]

* * * * *

Well, I'm off to the Ranger game. Ovechkin's (hopefully) in town, so the locals might be interested in that. Barry P. is on deck. Enjoy the evening.