At some point during Sunday's edition of "The Sports Reporters"—live on ESPN, from the ESPNZone—Lupica declared that Pete Carroll has "underachieved" at USC, because his teams have only won two national championships in nine years. I'm just going to ignore that lunacy and move on to the point of this post, because college football writer Bruce Feldman handled it much better than I could have:

Mike Lupica sez Pete Carroll's team is "underachieving" >Right, cause Carroll's the one who's been livin off his rep & mailin it in 4 years.

Burn. But did I mention that Feldman also works for ESPN The Magazine? At least he got it temporarily right, since this message magically disappeared from his Twitter feed. Feldman told Michael David Smith that he "figured it was out of line," a sentiment that jibes well with this ominous statement from his bosses at ESPN: "It was inappropriate and we've spoken to Bruce and he completely understands."

Oh, I'm sure he understand. Completely.

ESPN Writer Rips Lupica Via Twitter [FanHouse]
Lupica takes shot at Carroll [OC Register]

"Nothing turns the sports media green with envy quicker than a date with Big O," writes Whitlock, who is apparently taking a break from his ongoing dissertation on the subject of Strange Tang. He goes on to speculate how other sports media types might draw Oprah's eye (as Whitlock himself once did).

Mike Lupica: His Parting Shot on the next episode of "The Sports Reporters" will touch on the emotional scars he carries from paying his way through Boston College as a human bowling ball in the American Dwarf Bowling Association.

Hank Goldberg: Is quietly circulating audio tapes of voice messages left for Linda Cohn that graphically explain how he got the nickname Hammerin' Hank.

Christine Brennan: Unveils a full-body column mug in USA Today showing off her newly purchased 38 DDs, tummy tuck and blonde hair. Her initial column is titled: "If You Can't Beat 'Em, Join 'Em."

Jemele Hill: Disappointed by her previous efforts - such as comparing the Celtics to Hitler, urging Packers fans to stone Brett Favre with batteries, blogging about oral sex - Hill claims she was an original member of Milli Vanilli.

Rick Reilly: In a cliche and pointless 800-word column that will be read by tens of hundreds of readers who find it while looking for Bill Simmons' column, Reilly will reveal how his agent hoodwinked ESPN into a $3-million-a-year contract.

Damn. It's almost as if the man doesn't want to get invited to the ESPYs.

Erin Andrews video scandal: It's all about the O [FoxSports]
Have I Ever Mentioned How Much I Like Jason Whitlock? [Sportress of Blogitude]

Ok, so Mike Lupica was attending a basketball game at St. Luke's in New Canaan, Conn., because his son Alex was playing for King, in nearby Stamford. (As a senior, Alex rode the bench ALL season.) The game took place either in January for February of 2006. So St. Luke's wins big because we always dominated King. After the game we are walking to our cars and a buddy of mine (who had a few drinks in him) sees Mr. Lupica in the parking lot and shouts "MIKE LUPICA IS A FAGGOT". Pretty funny stuff, however Lupica flips out, starts screaming because he's a little bitch and somehow manages to find my buddy. Now I don't know why my buddy didn't get in a car and leave but Lupica finds him and this idiot we also went to school with, who rats out his name instead of making one up.

So my friend apologizes and what not, while in the meantime he is looking down to this little punk Mike Lupica who is still flipping out and demanding this be taken to the headmaster. Instead of accepting the apology Lupica calls our headmaster the next day and my buddy has to go in and sit down with Lupica and a bunch of administrates and explain what happened. Meanwhile the entire time the administers are grilling my buddy about weather or not he was drinking or not, he denies everything and Lupica demands another apology.

My buddy gets suspended for a few days, however it was clear Lupica wanted him expelled but they couldn't prove anything besides lupica is a faggot, (which he certainly is). There was no reason for him to bring this to administration, all he had to do was accept the apology maybe add a few other comments and leave it at that.

After reading your last post about Lupica I had to send this in. I've been around a lot of jerks growing up in this part of the country, but Lupica stands out as one of the worst and this story certainly backs it up. [Editor's note: While the former may be true, we disagree on the latter point.]

I grew up in the metro New York area, reading Lupica pretty regularly as a rabid New York sports fan (and thinking I would be a sportswriter someday). Later in life, I was in the fortunate position of meeting a lot of sports figures/celebs at my job, but I always kept it professional. One day, work took me to the ESPN Zone in New York, and they were taping the Sports Reporters, and Lupica was on the panel. I figured, what the heck, I'd introduce myself to him and thank him for all his columns that I read as a kid.

So the show finished the taping, there's nobody in the place except for the crew taping the show, and Lupica is milling around. I go up to him, extend my hand and say "I wanted to tell you how much I enjoy your writing, I grew up reading your stuff every Sunday." Not only does he not look up, he begins walking away from me in mid-sentence, mutters "I have to go" and leaves my hand extended in mid-air. I resolved to stop reading him after that moment. Bill Conlin and the late, great Dick Schaap were consummate professionals, btw.

Names redacted to protect the innocent.

We're comparing Winter Olympics accommodations for Albertville one morning. REPORTER #1 says he and the ABC News crew are staying at a resort in Annecy. REPORTER #2 says he's in a bed and breakfast type place straight up the mountain in La Plaine, where the bobsled and luge were running. Lupica says he's staying at a world class resort up above the MPC in La Lachere. "Five stars." I say I'm sharing a tiny media village apt with REPORTER #3 a short walk from the MPC.

So we all go to France. REPORTER #1's place is even better than he expected. REPORTER #2's is worse. An avalanche blocked the road for an hour the first Sunday and he almost misses the show, which we did live at 5 AM from the MBC in Moutiers. Lupica's digs? "It's fine," he snarls. "No complaints." So, the next day, I jumped in my tiny Peugeot and found his place. There was a goat grazing on what passed for a front lawn. It looked like there should have been a toothless kid on the porch picking "Duelling Banjos." It was one of my favorite Lupica moments. I'm not sure, but I think he quietly moved out and pulled some strings to get a hotel room someplace.

Illustration by Jim Cooke

Have you been berated, undermined or otherwise manhandled by sportswriting's cranky hobbit? Have you witnessed a Lupica tantrum firsthand? Tell us about it at tips@deadspin.com.

I used to work as a bag boy/golf cart attendant at a southern VT golf course during my summers between high school and college. One day Lupica was a guest there along with his father and sister. His sister had just gotten engaged apparently. Shortly after the round was over and they had dropped off their golf carts they came back in hysterics. Lupica's sister had lost her engagement ring.

They asked if they could borrow a couple of carts and search the course again and asked my friend/coworker and me if we could search ALL the carts to look for the ring. Luckily for them most of the carts were in the barn, as usually they are recycled obviously for new guests still out on the course. My friend and I searched all the carts and eventually he found the ring. The gas tanks were underneath the seats of the carts, so you had to lift the seat on one side to get to the tank. My friend had lifted the seat of one of the carts and found the ring sitting on the crevace underneath where the seat rests on the body of the cart. Of course, the ring was this huge rock obviously worth several thousand dollars. When Lupica and his family came back they were so happy my friend found the ring that to properly express their gratitude Lupica slipped him $20. I'll never forget that as long as I live. I remember being jealous he found it at first because he would get something for finding it and then after he got $20 I remember being relieved it wasn't me. I was almost embarrassed for him.

The Mets were in L.A. to play the Dodgers. Day game after a night game, and Lupica is in the press box writing a column and then apparently planning to take off on vacation. The NYDN beat writer has taken ill and called in after trying to get up and supposedly yakking all over his hotel room.

The day editor calls the NYDN number in the press box and gets no answer, as Lupica is sitting in the seat next to it and doesn't pick it up. So they call the main press box number and ask for him. More than one L.A. writer is up in the press box now since it's close to first pitch. The editor gets Lupica and (presumably) asks him to write a gamer. All Lupica says is "I don't do windows," then he hangs up the phone, finishes his column and leaves.

My own first encounter with Lupica was in the early 1980s. At the start of a sports banquet, I went back to my table and noticed that someone had moved my name plate and draped his blazer on the back of my chair. To my endless amusement, not only did the jacket have a summer camp-like name tag sewn into the lining ("Mike Lupica"), but the label read "Sears Junior Men's Department."

Illustration by Jim Cooke

Have you been berated, undermined or otherwise manhandled by sportswriting's cranky hobbit? Have you witnessed a Lupica tantrum firsthand? Tell us about it at tips@deadspin.com.

NCAA Final Four. (I think it was the New Orleans Fin4 made famous by Keith Smart's buzzer beater.) Lupica is walking up and down the front row, looking for his seat, starting at center court. No Lupica. Goes to second row, No Lupica. Getting pissed now. . .Third Row. Finally finds his name tag around the Super Dome entrance reserved for Katrina. Storms off to find a Media Honcho. Points to a name tag for a guy from some peckerwood upstate daily in Bama or Miss. Says words to the effect: "This guy is not a First Row Guy (speaking in capitals). I'm a first row guy and I better be there." The backwoods scribe who was giddy with his good fortune came back from a press conference to find Lupica in his former front row seat. Mike says something like, "Take it up with that guy over there."

We were doing a radio show at the ESPN Zone in NYC. Ben Curtis had just won the British Open two days earlier and a PR company had him doing a bunch of in-person media hits in NYC. The PR person walks in with Curtis to do his scheduled radio interview. The show "The Sports Reporters" was also there that day. They were taping segments for their weekend show on the other end of the ESPN Zones.

One of the panelists, Mike Lupica, sent a producer over to ASK the PR person to have Ben Curtis come over when he finished to do a segment with them. The PR person politely said that they couldn't do it as the schedule was booked. The producer said 'ok' and went back to break the news. Curtis finishes the interview and he and the PR person pack up to head out.

Lupica quickly walks up and just airs-out the PR person. He was upset that she said no....he really freaked out on her. She kept her cool and told Mike that they had a schedule and that if they had planned in advance, they could have scheduled Ben on their show too. That made him more upset. He eventually walked off. The PR person was a bit shaken up. She left with Ben Curtis who looked like he just triple bogeyed 18.

Somewhere around the year 1988 I was working as a producer on the "Bill Mazer Show" at Mickey Mantle's Restaurant on WFAN. A sports story in New York broke and Mike Lupica then wrote a column about the subject. I can't remember what the subject matter was, but my memory suggests it was clearly significant because Bill Mazer asked me to contact Mike Lupica to get him on the show to discuss.

It is important at this point to understand a little history. Bill Mazer was a legendary sports anchor in New York, known by everybody in the business. With that being said most people in the media were very cooperative when it came to joining him as a guest.

Mike Lupica however had other ideas. Upon my calling him at his home, he berated me for having the audacity to even bother him. He would let me know, in no uncertain terms, I was to lose his number and never call him again.

It would not be the last time we spoke. Soon after his latest book was released he found a way to get in touch with me. He wanted to see if he could be a guest on the "Bill Mazer Show" at Mickey Mantle's restaurant to publicize his book. This time, it was I, although far more politely, who had to decline."

Illustration by Jim Cooke

Have you been berated, undermined or otherwise manhandled by sportswriting's cranky hobbit? Have you witnessed a Lupica tantrum firsthand? Tell us about it at tips@deadspin.com.

This is priceless in its own right, but even better if you happened to be in the press room at Winged Foot a few years ago, before the tournament began, when Lip asked one of his patented long-winded questions, and Mickelson pondered his answer for a few seconds, and then, wonderfully, amazingly, magically, said ....

"Well, Mitch ..."

Lupica looked like he'd swallowed a Big Gulp of arsenic after that. Lefty has been a hero to the masses ever since.

Deadspin tale about Lupica and Mickelson [SportsJournalists.com]
EARLIER: Phil Mickelson Ruined Mike Lupica's U.S. Open

Sauer covered the event for the Huffington Post (don't snicker) and had the fancy tent access that most people get when they cover an event on a PR agency's dime (NO PHOTOS FOR BLOGGERS). But he persevered through the half-access and managed to get this little slice of Lupicana that is pretty incredible:

I was well positioned on the short par-3 14th to watch Mickelson. This was right after the eagle and the roar of the crowd was as loud as any noise I ever heard at a sporting event. Thousands of fans came storming over, shouting in pure ecstasy, an American version of a coronation. Obviously, his wife's cancer made the "people's champ" even more popular and right after his tee shot landed near the pin, it felt like watching a cliched sports movie come to life. The only drawback? As Mickelson made his way down the hill, the charge was lead by wee sportswriter Mike Lupica. He may be the dean of New York scribes, but how about not making yourself part of the story, Mike? He was out front, waving to fans, shaking hands, and marching to the green in all his Napoleonic glory. For Calvin Peete's sake, Lupica, couldn't you have at least walked behind Phil?

Of course Lupica's final Bethpage column acknowledged Lucas Glover and focused on Phil, but if you replace "Phil Mickelson" with "Mike Lupica" you get a full sense of the drama Mike tried to pipsqueek his way into:

It was supposed to be Mickelson's day after he made that eagle. He was going to take his trophy with him to his wife's hospital room. An Open championship that would have been more like a Movie of the Week.

Better luck next time, Mike.

18 Rounds Of Soggy And Sunny Days At The U.S. Open [HuffPo]

Great all-star game story with some pictures...i was sitting by the entrance to the concourse in the lower level and i hear someone screaming at security so turn to look up the tunnel. It's Mike Lupica and he wasn't being given access to get to the lower field box level so he decided to throw a fit...he pulled a, "do you know who i am" to the guards and ultimately got nowhere, but it was easily an enjoyable moment watching his face turn bright red and freak out during the game...

It's safe to assume he finally got down there. He's Mike Lupica, for gosh sakes. I wonder if he also got to kiss George Steinbrenner on the cheek?

Media Approval Ratings: Mike Lupica [Deadspin]

We've always imagined Lupica must look at the "success" of Mitch Albom and slam his tiny self into a wall. That was supposed to be him! He's the saccharine guy who says nothing!

Hopefully writing this post won't cause Lupica to do some backroom maneuvering to have us fired.

So: Do you like the Mike Lupica? Do you not like the Mike Lupica? Let us know.

Gawker Media polls require Javascript; if you're viewing this in an RSS reader, click through to view in your Javascript-enabled web browser.

Like most anyone who follows sports, yesterday's Los Angeles Times piece from columnist Mike Penner about his impending de-penising was a little jarring, to say the least. This had to be a tough column to write. It's essentially writing an obituary for yourself and a brutal, honest confessional hurled out to a readership (not a small one either) and, sadly, asking them to accept you. Sports fans, no less. I know they're LA sports fans, but still, you don't see that many transgendered people at Laker games. Maybe, like, four at the most.

Anyway, as some of you may know, I've got a fill-in gig over at the cuddly little blogstop called Eat the Press for the week. So, as any good substitute blogger pretending to know something about "media news," I did a post about Mr. Penner's announcement. This particular post made the HuffPo proper and subsequently was assessed commenting status. Here are two of the most passionate:

AJ, this is a pathetic piece of writing. You display that you know nothing about what it's like to be transgendered/transsexual, and your callous one-offs do nothing but reinforce tired stereotypes. Extra minus points for the incredibly offensive picture accompanying this piece of drivel. Trans people display more courage than you will ever know, and it's sickening that I even have to take you to task for this. I expect better from HuffPo writers. Big thumbs down!

And...

It is A.J. Daulerio who pasted that photo on to the LA Times story. It is disingenuous at best, and yellow journalism at its worst. Where AJ's words are carefully chosen to supply the double entendre, the picture removes all doubt that he is making fun of someone who is struggling with a very difficult problem. Let's hope Mr. Daulerio's children never have to suffer the degradation he delivers in his sophomoric column. Does he giggle and point at "retards" and "freaks" too? Nature can be very unfair to its children. We don't need cruel, insensitive people like A.J. Daulerio to make their lives even more unbearable. Grow up, Mr Perfect, before someone kicks your ass until your tits bleed.

Granted, I didn't expect a "Ladies..." or a "No, no, yes, no" kind of response, but holy Colbert-on-a-cross, Huffpolice. Here's the thing: Mr. Penner's column was probably one of the gutsiest things I've ever read. Best part about it is, he obviously doesn't care at all what anybody thinks anymore, let alone, me. But in my mind, dude's got balls that could crumble buildings with one heaving swing (for a few weeks, at least) and if I ever have a thimble of the amount of courage and self-awareness that heshe has, I'd consider myself a pretty fucking awesome human being.

Someday...

For now, it's back to the puppy-kicking grind.

So this week, I'm updating my Group Hug diary, saying 12 Hail Marys and placing odds on the next mind-blowing confession offered up by a sports writer in print.

Come on, Rus, let's go find yer sister, after this jump...

Mike Lupica Admits to Premature Ejaculation: 2/1

Mike Lupica: paisan, Whitlock tormentor and pump-pump chumper. Entirely possible, but would he admit it? The New York Daily News sports columnist has become progressively more and more cranky over the years and shows all the outward signs of a man who couldn't satisfy a woman if the life of his children depended on it. Think of all of the high-profile players he bashes, his constant need to be negative and, obviously, the moderate dwarfism. Would anybody be surprised if Lupica couldn't ride in a car with a heated seat without exploding all over himself? But this type of confession coming from a man who prides himself on being a hard-edged columnist, a man's man and always right, this type of confession would be completely implausible. However it's totally, 100 percent true. Ask Filip Bondy.

Jemele Hill 'Fesses She's White: 4/1

Hey girl! Congrats on your award! I'm sorry, but Jemele Hill is just too good to be true. She's not only one of the most successful "black" sportswriters, but also a LADY black person sportswriter. (And she's good, too.) I don't buy it. So, don't let the braids and the whole Da Brat-thing fool you. At night after work, Jemele plops down on her IKEA couch, throws on her Five for Fighting records and sifts through the J. Crew catalog. Only after she's taken off the industrial-strength spray tan she's got on, of course. Do you know how badly that stuff stains carpets? Ask Filip Bondy again.

Tom Sorensen Confesses He Likes to Attend Mandingo Parties: EVEN

This Charlotte Observer columnist has all the impressions of a nice suburban Carolina family man, however, look behind that Mariucci-smile and you'll see an American Beauty-like palor. Tom needs some action — something not Carolina-bland or two-car garage lifeless. And "Tom Talks" just ain't gonna cut it. That's why, pretty soon, we'll see a very open, honest and completely horrifying blog post about how he, Tom Sorensen, has become addicted to Mandingo Parties. Sometimes one just isn't enough...

Sheldon Ocker Confesses He's a Frotteurist: 1/4

If you're in the Akron area, stay away from the spike brush hair of Sheldon Ocker. For, in an upcoming column, the lifelong Beacon Journal sportswriter will admit that he compulsively seeks out large groups of people so he can seductively rub up against them — without warning. He'll admit to stuffing himself into crowded elevators, taking two rush hour bus trips, and attending standing room only concerts just so he can get himself some of that sweet, sweet stranger rub. Ocker will admit he's a menace, but he just can't help himself. Once again, STAY AWAY from Sheldon Ocker. You too, Bondy.

So, as you'd expect, Whitlock is spraying some bullets on the way out the door, with these choice tidbits from an interview with The Big Lead. Some highlights.

• On Scoop Jackson: There's a big dropoff from being associated with Ralph [Wiley], Hunter [S. Thompson] and Bill [Simmons] than being linked to someone doing a bad Nat X impersonation. It pissed me off that the dude tried to call himself the next Ralph Wiley and stated some [shit] about carrying Ralph's legacy. ... Ralph was a grown-ass man who didn't bojangle for anybody. Scoop is a clown. And the publishing of his fake ghetto posturing is an insult to black intelligence, and it interferes with intelligent discussion of important racial issues. Scoop showed up on the scene and all of a sudden I'm getting e-mails from readers connecting what I write to Scoop. And his stuff is being presented like grown folks should take it seriously.

• On Mike Lupica: Lupica is an insecure, mean-spirited busybody. ... The Little Fella probably won't let the producer (Joe Valerio) have me back on ["The Sports Reporters"] again. That's cool. They're mostly upset that I wouldn't participate in their Barry Bonds witch hunt and help them single Bonds out as the creator of steroids. Lupica doesn't like to be disagreed with, and he's spoken so abusively to that producer for years that the producer probably doesn't realize people are allowed to disagree with Lupica. I enjoyed my time on the show. But if the price of admission is stepping to Lupica's drum, I'm more than happy to go without.

Man, we can't wait until Simmons leaves.

Oh Damn, Did Whitlock Really Say That? A Q&A With Jason Whitlock [The Big Lead]
That's All For Whitlock At Page 2 [Deadspin]

First, a look at his HITS:

• "Pardon The Interruption." You can hate this show for what it spawned — and we'll get into that a little later today — but the combination of Kornheiser and Wilbon continues to enlighten and amuse. Imagine if it had been Kornheiser and Mike Lupica, as it has been rumored was the original combination. (We've often wondered if Lupica, once the golden boy of those middle-aged sportswriters, looks around at the TV success of Kornheiser, Albom, Feinstein, et al, and dreams of stabbing them in their sleep.)
• "Monday Night Football" on ESPN. We're all terrified of Joe Theismann as the NFL's flagship analyst, and on the whole it will be strange that you'll have to pay for cable to watch MNF. But it was an aggressive move that ensures the network will remain at the forefront of televised sports for years to come.
• "Playmakers" and "3". The other original movies and shows were clunkers, but despite the NFL's protests, "Playmakers" scored big ratings, and pretty much everyone we know back in Southern Illinois owns "3" on DVD.
• Dropping the NHL. The extended labor woes for the league lowered the value of any possible deal to the point that an obscure cable network specializing in fishing shows and "Survivor" reruns was able to scoop him the remnants. You could make an argument that the Outdoor Life Network could use the NHL to build a challenge to ESPN's supremacy ... but we're not even sure NHL commish Gary Bettman could say that with a straight face.

Have any thoughts on Shapiro's hits or misses of your own? Let us know at tips@deadspin.com.

The Doc Is Not In [NY Post] (second item)

(Later today: The Misses)