Sports News Without Access, Favor, Or Discretion

Do You Owe Your Friend Beer If He Takes You To A Game?

FunbagTime for your weekly edition of the Deadspin Funbag. Got something on your mind? Email the Funbag.

Your letters:


What is the minimum number of beers you can expect to receive in return for bringing a friend to a game? I get free tickets at work to baseball, NBA and NFL games. If I can’t roundup a client they’re mine to use and I’ll take a family member or friend. I don’t expect anything of family members but when I bring a friend I expect them to buy me at least two beers. Never happens! At most I get one free beer in return for a $425 ticket for the NBA games. Am I wrong to expect a friend to buy me two or three beers in return for bringing him to the game? Should there not be a rule that if a buddy takes you to a sporting event that you buy the beers?


Well now, wait a moment. You didn't actually PAY for the tickets, so now you want all your drinks comped too? Bullshit. If you paid for the tickets yourself and treated your friend, then I could understand wanting at least a couple of free rounds in return. That makes sense, even though no guy I know has ever just GIVEN a ticket to a sporting event to a friend. This is the usual conversation I have with a friend before attending any live sporting event:

HIM: Hey, I can get tickets to (terrible live sporting event of your choice)!

ME: Work will give them to you for free?

HIM: No, I gotta pay for them.

ME: Oh, so we'd split it then.

HIM: Yeah.

(five minutes of torturous silence)

ME: Eh ... fuck that.

HIM: Yeah, let's just watch it on TV.

So you're talking about a situation in which you were the big swinging dick who was able to score the free tickets. Whoop dee damn doo for you. I don't think you should expect your friend to buy you multiple rounds just for that. One round is fine. That's payment enough to you for being Mr. Connected and choosing him to be your Game Buddy. To me, the real payback comes when HE stumbles upon free tickets at HIS job. It shouldn't come in the form of six free beers that night. Beer is expensive at those games, man. No one's gonna tolerate buying EVERY round for a friend, especially when you didn't even pay for the fucking tickets. And if you DID pay for the tickets, well now you've given your friend a gift, right? It's shitty to give a gift and automatically expect to be equally rewarded in return, right? I say one round for a free ticket, a few rounds for a paid ticket, but no ALL YOU CAN DRINK free ride for the host.



Buying toilet paper is the worst for a man right? Women always get to include it in one of their thousand grocery cart items but when I need it, it is literally the only thing I am buying so everyone in the store is thinking, "Man that guy has to take a shit RIGHT NOW!"


That's true when you buy any solitary item at a grocery store or drug store. If you buy a small pack of condoms and nothing else, people will KNOW you have a naked woman waiting at your place who may flee if you don't hurry the fuck up and get back there with some protection. And if you're buying just a package of raw sausage, people will know you're a single man who will be grilling and eating that sausage as a standalone dinner. No vegetables. No starch. Just mashed pig testicles for you this evening. If you're buying one thing at a store, it's because you need that one thing right now.

As a functional family man, I now get jealous of one-item shoppers. When I go to the store and see two guys buying nothing more than a 30-pack, I know they're about to have WAY more fun than I am. They look so fucking excited to be buying beer. Oh God, that's such a great feeling when you're young—to buy shitloads of alcohol, knowing you're going to consume it all in one night and end up naked somewhere. It's all the excitement of buying cocaine with none of the sordidness.



I'm an American living and working in Russia. I've been here for a few years. As I've gathered from the opinions of various co-workers who have come for work visits over the years, it seems most Americans have some deep-seated fear of coming here, be it commies, bears in the streets, mafia, radioactive drinking water, 300-lb hairlip women named Olga, etc. My friends & family have yet to visit me here. If you had to do a trip to Russia, what would you be most anxious or unsettled about?


Everything I know about Russia I learned from Eastern Promises, and so I greatly fear Russia. I fear I would be jailed for smiling, because smiling is for the weak. I fear dagger fights. I fear that any female companion I bring with me will be immediately kidnapped by the mafiya and forced into sex slavery and crammed with eighty other hookers into a shipping container headed for Baltimore. I fear Putin having me arrested for not looking long enough at his exposed pecs. I fear boiled cabbage. I fear the climate, because it doesn't seem as if Moscow has ever experienced a sunny day ever. And, of course, I fear DOUBLE AGENTS. So many double agents. FACT: 85 percent of all Russians are double agents. The other 15 percent are triple agents. I fear Russia. I will never go there. I bet YOU are a double agent as well. I DEMAND TO SEE YOUR PAPERS.


If the Olympics are willing to add and drop new sports, they should add paintball. And not that bullshit paintball with inflatable obstacles. I want paintball in the middle of some woods. Can you imagine watching a SEAL team going up against a bunch of Chinese Special Operatives? No other sport has the implication of, "If we were to do this for real, you would be dead right now," or the ability to build ill will that paintball does. Of course, no other sport has to potential to reveal important military tactics, but I'm willing to disregard that because it would make for great television.


Well, that just the thing: Would it? Would you sit down and watch dudes running around the woods playing paintball? If so, why hasn't paintball become a more popular televised sport by now? Like you, I yearn for some awesome new sport to arrive that gives me yet another reason to watch TV and not do anything. On the surface, paintball on TV would seem to make sense. It has guns. It has strategy. You can limit it to a playing field. You can keep a clear score. It sounds like something I "would" watch.

And yet ... I bet I wouldn't give a shit if it were made an Olympic sport. It would be like watching someone else play Call of Duty, only duller. There's an intangible quality to superior televised sports that's hard to pin down. It's a mixture of quality play, interesting personalities, fascinating tactics, and all this other shit balanced in seemingly perfect proportion. When you watch something like SlamBall and the announcers go to great lengths to make it SEEM like you're watching a real sport, it comes off as painfully contrived. That would happen with paintball in the Olympics. Tom Hammond would sit there with some "paintball veteran" and after five minutes you'd be like, "Fuck this redneck shit." One day, there will be a new sport that comes along and actually fits in to the landscape. But it feels like it'll happen a long, long time from now.


/deletes angry comments from MMA fanboys


What conspiracy theory would cause the greatest shit storm if it turned out to be true? For example, the CIA took out Kennedy, or Aliens really did create humans, or 9/11 was an attack orchestrated by the government? Which one of those would cause the greatest amount of just pure, anarchist backlash? And what would happen? Would there be conspiracy theorists partying in the streets? Would the government collapse? Would people just talk shit on Twitter then forget about it a week later?


The beauty of all conspiracies is that, if you embed the lie deep enough into the culture, people will happily disregard open proof in order to cling to their beliefs. If 60 Minutes ran a piece that presented incontrovertible evidence that the CIA murdered JFK, I promise you that it would be shouted down by millions of people. "What's that? You have ballistic evidence from the grassy knoll? MEH. Come back when you have real proof, Steve Kroft!" But if you were to somehow overcome that built-in collective denial and get people to accept the "truth," well then you could cause yourself an awful lot of agitation. Finding out that the cosmogony of Scientology is correct would REALLY fuck me up, especially given that it makes absolutely no sense.

You might think that 9/11 being an inside job would be the catalyst of a second American Revolution. HOWEVER, you would be underestimating the depths of American apathy. We just experienced an economic collapse that left millions jobless and nearly wiped out all of our savings. And the people behind it—people who committed blatant fraud—were gifted billions by the GUBMINT and allowed to go on their merry way. Did you storm the Capitol steps over this? No. I know I didn't. What if a cop shot rubber bullets at me? That would hurt! I'm not dealing with that. I would rather just play Angry Birds and pretend it never happened, thank you very much.


No, no, if you want a conspiracy that really blows the world apart, you're gonna have to go to the Middle East. If they unearthed evidence that Elijah the Prophet murdered Mohammad the Prophet or something like that, you could just kiss your ass goodbye right now, because we're all gonna die. People in the Middle East kill each other over DRAWINGS. So that kind of historical napalm would be enough to end us all. Honestly, we're all gonna get killed one day because of SOMETHING that happens over there. Fuckers. May as well be something fun. JFK's murder at the hands of LBJ himself (?? !!) wouldn't stand a chance.


Which female student body has more pubic hair: Notre Dame or all 14 SEC schools combined?


That is awful. Notre Dame.


How large would you have to be to fight any land animal in hand-to-claw/paw/tusk fighting? I say for a fight with a full grown tiger, I would need to be at least 45 feet tall. Your strength and speed grow along with you, but stay proportional to what they are at your current size.


Obviously, it depends on the animal. If we're talking about a fully grown adult male elephant, you're probably gonna want to shoot up to a hundred feet tall, just to be safe. I want to be whatever height makes the animal relatively bug-sized. Does that make sense? I would like to step on the tiger to kill it and then go about my business, juggling trolley cars and plucking cute women out of skyscraper windows. Anything smaller than that is just too risky, because I'm a pussy. I need the animal to be bug-sized.

As always, this kind of question makes me very glad that bugs are NOT man-sized. Every night, I go to sleep fearing that a man-sized bug will appear somewhere on the planet and begin breeding. What's stopping nature from giving it a shot? There could be man-sized bug eggs out there RIGHT NOW, ready to hatch in your backyard. They may crawl up the side of your house and come through your window and awaken you with their terrifying hisses. And no shoe will be enough to defeat them. I demand the government do more in the area of man-sized bug prevention. I'll pay whatever taxes are needed.




Imagine some team spends a bunch of time practicing laterals. They draw up plays with planned lateral options, they get personnel who'd be especially good at throwing and catching laterals or something, and they practice practice practice like nuts. All in secret. Then in game one of the season, they bust out the secret lateral plan all over the place. Do they totally win that first game or does it go horribly wrong immediately? If it works, do they keep winning or do other teams figure out how to stop it? If they keep winning, how long until every crappy team in the NFL starts doing it horribly? Which coach/team is mostly likely to try this and how do we make it happen ASAP?


Well, let's just start off by acknowledging what we all know to be true: Laterals are AWESOME. They have always been awesome, and they will never stop being awesome. Every time one player laterals to another (Ed Reed!), I just about lose my shit. OH MY GOD! HE'S LATERALING! THAT'S CRAZY! It is the Frank's Red Hot sauce of football: It makes everything better. And when a lateral fails, you get to yell at the screen and pretend you're the smartest person in the world. WHY DID YOU LATERAL?! YOU IDIOT! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND! I love failed laterals. I love spontaneous laterals. I love planned laterals. I love shitty passes to the flat that turn out to be laterals, and then everyone wanders around for a second before ONE GUY realizes it's a live ball and scoops it up. I'm in favor of anything that causes more laterals in football.

I played rugby for about three minutes in college, and I constantly daydreamed about being a head football coach who decides to implement rugby-style pitchout chains to the NFL. Imagine Colin Kaeprenick lateraling to a running back who then laterals to a tight end who THEN laterals to a wideout! Sure, you'd run out of field by the second guy. But still ... SO MANY LATERALS. Surely, it would work for one game against an awful team, as both Mike and I hope. That would be about the extent of it. One bad pitch and suddenly the Pearl Necklace Offense would be shouted down by the masses and left to history. I bet Tim Tebow pitched this offense to the Jets coaching staff every week last year.



Why don’t they just do away with all sanctions and drug testing for the Tour De France? Imagine if Lance and Floyd Landis and the rest could just juice themselves stupid! You could get drug cheats from other sports to take part—imagine ARod stopping on some lonely French countryside road to have Cameron Diaz feed him popcorn, or Clemens could throw his handlebars at Piazza, or Bonds could ride a specially scientifically-designed bike that would compensate for his steroid-enhanced oversize head? Manny could ride probably until his third trimester.


I concur. There's no point in paying attention to the Tour de France anymore because you know that the results will be invalidated within a day of its conclusion. It's not a bike race anymore. It's just a competition to see who can successfully mask his drug test results the longest.

And drugs are the only reason any of us paid attention to it to begin with. Without drugs, Lance doesn't win those seven titles and I don't get to pretend like I know anything about cycling by saying to cocktail party guests, "The race doesn't REALLY start until they get to the Alps." You may as well flood the sport with drugs so that it's interesting again, and so that I don't have to worry about the results being called into question. It will never be a clean race again. Ever. Making people bikes thousands of miles up the side of a goddamn mountain is basically telling them TAKE DRUGS TO MAKE THIS EASIER. Either let the drug cheats in or do away with the thing entirely.



Let’s talk about BIG PAPER PLATE. They sell you the 100-pack and lull you into thinking you have enough paper plates to last for months. Then, in a move of genius, they stick every other plate together thinking you’ll just roll with the double plate because you have 98 more of them, and the microwave is beeping and your Hot Pocket is ready NOW. Before you know it, you’re buying another pack. Oh yeah, Big Paper Plate…I’m hip to the game. I will no longer be a victim.


I double up on the paper plate so often that I feel naked using only just one. Does this single paper plate have enough structural integrity to support the 57 spare ribs and gallon of hoisin sauce I'm about to dump onto it? Best to double it up jussssst in case. Same with Dixie Cups. I start off with just one, but then I grab another drink and can't find a place to discard my empty first cup. So I double up. Next thing you know, I'm walking around drinking juice out of six Dixie Cups stacked together. Ain't SHIT dribblin' out on me, people!

I relish any chance to use paper plates and cups. Here at home, we use regular plates and flatware because WE FANCY FOLK. Oh, to cast off the shackles of reusable plates and indulge for a moment in plates that I can treat like absolute shit ... it's the best. Those fancy Chinet paper plates, the ones thick enough to be used as makeshift frisbees? Those are the shit.



Would you dig up a relative (someone you knew) and stare at their body for 30 seconds for $100k? Conditions are: You are alone at night, 2 hours of earnest digging required, no consequences. At this point the only few women I have been brave enough to ask have steered the conversation in a different direction. Every man but 2 out of 20 or so asked was willing to do this. Follow-up: Desecrate the corpse for additional 100k.


I haven't had a close relative pass away for a few years, so I'd be digging up little more than bone fragments. So yeah, I'd happily excavate my grandpa for six figures. He knew the value of a dollar. Plus, it would be oddly gratifying to see him again. I'd probably place his skull on a bench and drink a beer alongside it. It would be nice to have the extra time with him. We could even play Scrabble again. AND I would win handily. I would hope my grandson would do likewise to my body one day. I'd have no issue with it.

Again, this is with bones. If we're talking about a fresh body, you can count me out. Dead bodies are heavy and smell terrible. Once you decay into bones, there's not much left to desecrate. You're a curiosity. An object to be examined. You look like pretty much every other skeleton. I don't find bones all that, I dunno, holy. There needs to be skin and blood and a face to feel like there's a soul in there. But no desecration. That would be weird. What are you gonna do, use grandpappy's femur to pleasure your anus? That is SICK.



What would happen if I put vodka or gin in my humidifier instead of water? What about Coca-Cola?


Alcohol has a lower boiling point than water. So if you put vodka in your humidifier, it's possible you'd be getting pure alcohol vapor coming out of the vent first. However, this would NOT make the entire room drunk, given that it would quickly dissipate into the air. And if you got close to the humidifier to huff the vapors, you would probably cause a great deal of irritation to your sinuses. There's a reason people don't snort vodka. It would burn through your tissues. Also, alcohol is flammable, meaning you could start a fire by putting booze into a humidifier.

As for Coke, that's probably an even worse idea. Unless you enjoy turning your room into a cockroach mini-mall. We have a humidifier we use occasionally because it helps to keep a humidifier in a child's room if they catch a cold. And getting right up next to it and breathing in the cool vapor is AWESOME. I feel like I'm being misted by a tiny Korean woman at a day spa.



I'm sitting here watching Die Hard which many guys say is the best Christmas movie ever and I had an idea: Why doesn't every Die Hard movie take place during a holiday?


Actually, every Die Hard movie should have taken place during Christmas. The first and second installments—which were by far the best—both took place during Christmas (with Dennis Franz playing the asshole cop who tears up Bruce Willis' ticket at the end of Die Hard 2. IT'S CHRISTMAS!). Taking Christmas out of the series eseentially ruined it. Well, that and poor plotting, one-note characterizations, shitty dialogue, and erasing all traces of John McClane's human vulnerabilities. But seriously, Christmas was the linchpin!


Of the 156,000 or so brave soldiers that landed in France on D-Day, how many do you think did so with shit in their pants? Doesn’t matter if it was merely some ill-timed diarrhea or from literally shitting your pants due to fear of death.


It matters to them! Anyway, my guess is that there were relatively few soldiers who arrived on Normandy with a turdpatty in their skivvies. Once the attack commenced, all bets are off. I wish my grandfather were still alive so that I could ask him (I could ask his bones for $100k!), but alas, he was stationed in London during the war, working for the OSS. One time, I had to do a paper on him for my English class. He told me he had to stand guard on the roof some nights during air raids. That is fucking terrifying. I will NEVER be that brave, ever ever ever. Grandpas who fought in wars are awesome.


Can you handicap a street fight between Jason Bourne and James Bond? The wrinkle is that they're in a college library- so they have carte blanche of blunt Bourne-esque everyday objects to use as weapons. And what happens first- death or a torn ACL?


Bourne has the edge because Bourne is younger and Bourne has been specifically trained—even medically altered—to be a one-man killing machine. Bond is skilled in hand-to-hand combat and the use of firearms. But Bond often relies on fancy gadgets and/or a well-timed appearance by a chick he was banging to foil the bad guy (she usually sneaks up behind the bad guy and knocks him out with a frying pan or something).

Bond is not a focused killer the way Bourne is. He enjoys fine clothing and games of chance and pussy. I don't think Bourne even jacks off, he's so one-minded. So I'll take Bourne, and I say this with some regret because I like Bond better. Skyfall was a fucking masterpiece.



What do you think is the most amount of money a non-celebrity has laying around in a pants/jacket pocket that they don't even know about?


I bet it's an obscene amount. Even if we're talking straight cash, it could easily be a wad of hundred dollar bills. Who's to say some rich asshole woke up hungover after a night of clubbing, couldn't find his embossed money clip, and is blissfully ignorant of the fact that he has $10,000 in cash hiding under his nightstand? It's more than possible. Let's find this person and ROB HIM.

We have two emails of the week this week, because the Funbag was just so darn plentiful. Here we go.



I just pulled my lunch out of the company refrigerator, except it wasn’t the one I packed for myself last night. It was one from a long time ago. Like, I have no idea how long ago. The enchilada and rice smelled horrible and the pomegranate smelled like it turned into an alcohol. Can pomegranates do that? Being the cheap ass I am I tried to salvage the soda, chips and fruit cup since I figured they would be fine. Needless to say, even the fruit cup went bad. How long was that lunch in the fridge? 3 months? 6 months? 1 year?


That lunch was actually promoted to senior management.



A half hour ago, I went into my bathroom to take a shit. It was kind of late, but not so unusual because I'd pretty much been holding it in all day with no pressing need to release. So I go into my bathroom, sit down, and start making this crocodile. And it's big. Not strange—I've taken some big shits—but then it happened. I felt it BRUSH AGAINST MY DICK. Yes. Against the head of my dick. Now, I've had this happen to my balls before—a dump gives my taint a little high five on its way out—but never to my actual dick. Then the horrifying part. I'm seriously traumatized. I look down at my dick, and there's a fucking skidmark on the left side of it. No joke; I shat on my own dick. I immediately started cleaning up, but the psychological damage is irreparable. I wipe off my dick a number of times, and then I go to wipe my ass. And this is where it gets weird. NOTHING. Phantom shit. I must have spent about five minutes trying to CSI my own asshole and NOTHING. I'm seriously horrified. I showered for a half hour and now I'm going to try to go to bed. Is Jesus fucking with me?



Drew Magary writes for Deadspin and Gawker. He's also a correspondent for GQ. Follow him on Twitter @drewmagary and email him at You can also order Drew's new book, "Someone Could Get Hurt," through his homepage.

Share This Story