AJ Daulerio's Cultural Oddsmaker runs every Friday. Email him to tell him what you think.
As I was watching ESPN for all hours this week, trying to get as much information about Terrell Owens as humanly possible, I struggled to construct some semblance of oddsmaking that would feel fresh, exciting and devoid of any references to Daniel Nicole Smith. Then it came to me: There's nothing more to say about this in any capacity. Until next week, of course, when South Philly's finest will do their best to give Mr. Owens a warm welcome, wish him the best of luck and express their concern for his well-being as only Broad Street's finest lovers of chip steak smothered in orange goop can.
As I began to pore over the ethical quandaries abound in joking about suicide, while simultaneously hoping for a glimpse of Suzy Kolber's beloved saddle, I became stricken with a sense of responsibility to a frothing readership fully expecting a thoroughly insensitive angle about this whole terrible mess. And I said "No. I won't do that." Then I began to take a real hard look at Trey Wingo and began to further examine how gay his name is. And then I focused on his ties and his manicured features, which seem overly effeminate even in terms of television-standards, and I came to the conclusion that, yes, this man has, at one point or another in his life, touched another man's testicles.
So, we'll save T.O for next week when it's more appropriate and we give him time to quell his demons.
Instead, I'm finally using this newly purchased Gaydar I bought from Radio Shack, putting on my ascot and placing odds on the first ESPN personality to finally charge out of the closet and reveal himself as the lover of man parts that he is.
Wingo with me, after this skip.
Foldable Camping Cot
Adjustable and portable
Set the backrest to any position to fit your needs so you can relax out under the sun this summer.
Pedro Gomez: 2/1
This Taylor Hicks lookalike always has received a lot of facetime after the dreadful assignment of being attached to the hip of Barry Bonds. As we all know, his reporting on the subject has been, mmm, less than stellar so far. In fact, he's missed seemingly everything that's happened with Bonds — though that's his full-time job — as other reporters with less access gleefully pick through the bones. So, that begs the question: What could a man who spends that much time in San Francisco possibly be doing the whole time? That's right: Dudes.
Neil Everett: 3/1
All though he carries himself as a guy's guy and is the least grating of quip-heavy hosts, Everett's wire-rimmed Jewfrocity gives him an appearance that's part Willie Ames and part that dude from Sex and the City who knocked up the ugly chick. Plus, he worked in Hawaii for a long stint and was a Beta in college. And various unnamed sources reveal that Everett was voted "Most Likely To Be the Victim of a Vicious Rumor Involving a Gerbil Getting Lodged in a Tiny Orifice" by other staffers at their annual end of year gala starting...now.
Bob Ley: 4/1
Don't be fooled by the shlumpy facade — behind the weird junior high math teacher hair part and the tiny smile lie the heart of a man longing for dong. Ley's measured interview-style on OTL has all the makings of a man trying very hard to suppress the urge to take his pants off. And who can forget how excited he was to interview Billy Bean during that whole "Gays in Sports" piece a few years back?
Rece Davis: 4/1
Davis is one of the guys most guilty of overdoing his hetero-ness, but failing. Just because he's teamed with Linda Cohn does not mean he likes being close to vagina. Take Exhibit A: Davis' tired old "Not that there's anything wrong with that" joke that comes any time a Rudy Gay clip appears. You know what they say about guys who make those kind of ignorant assumptions about people based on trivial little characteristics.
Scott Van Pelt: 1/1
Even though some think he's too tall to be gay, Van Pelt has all the makings of a classic "Power Bottom:" The self-deprecation, his propensity to high-five at bars and, his utter cluelessness on how to appropriately pick up a skank from Dewey Beach. Don't be fooled by that notorious phone call — Van Pelt was actually trying to use that girl to get closer to her friend Steve, whom he found filled out his checklist even better than she did. The most important of which being that he did not have "Bell's Palsy" and "Likes to go swing dancing in the nude."