Sports News Without Access, Favor, Or Discretion

Mike Mayock’s Lisp Will Captivate America

Drew Magary's Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo runs every Thursday during the NFL season. Find more of his stuff at his Twitter feed.

No time to waste. We go right to the hot sweaty playoff action.

The Games
All games in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms. And during the playoffs, I pick the games, because why not.


Five Throwgasms

Seahawks (+10) 31, Bears 30: After last week, I'm now thoroughly convinced of the rule that the playoff game that looks the shittiest will invariably end up being the best of the bunch.


I couldn't get over Mike Mayock's lisp last weekend. It was hypnotic. It was like listening to Biggus Dickus do an entire NFL game. HAIL THAESAR! Even when Mayock was making a salient point, I couldn't hear it because all I could focus on was that lisp. It's like he had a giant black mole on his voice. I feel bad, because Mayock was so clearly jazzed to be announcing a playoff game. But holy crap. I'm glad NBC found someone to replace Joe Theismann in the B slot for its playoff game, but wouldn't you screen any potential replacement for a crippling lisp as your first step in the search process?

My children watch a lot of "Max & Ruby," which means I watch a lot of Max & Ruby. Ruby also has a lisp, and it's completely distracting any time I watch. MAXTH! YOU CAN'T PUT YOUR GREAT GREEN GUM GUTHERS IN THATH THOUP! Shut up, you carrot-eating twat! Let the boy live, dammit!


Falcons (-2.5) 35, Packers 21: Every year I feel like they're a chic road team to pick that ends up walking into a fucking buzzsaw in someone else's home stadium, the way Dallas did last year. So I'll pick that to happen to Green Bay on Saturday Night. Now please go and bet all your money on Green Bay immediately, because my reasoning has no evidence to back it up at all.

Patriots (-8.5) 56, Jets 7: Here's Phil Simms announcing any game: "Well Jeem, he was trying to get the ball to heem, but he just couldn't find heem, because the pass rush was in front of heem. But I'll go out on a leemb and say he'll find heem before this game is over. HEEM HEEM HEEM." Can't any NFL announcer just fucking TALK? Why is it so hard to find analysts that have basic speech down pat?


Steelers (-3) 20, Ravens 14: I have nothing to say about this game. Time for the random crap!

-I think the reason New Orleans lost last week was because Gregg Williams has gotten very fat. Usually, you don't notice Gregg Williams' girth because he has such a dickhead face and you're too busy concentrating on that and thinking to yourself, "God, that guy looks like a real prick." But I saw him waddling out and calling defensive plays last week and he was fatter than Wade Phillips. As someone who's had weight problems his whole life, I like it very much when formerly skinny people get all fat and shit, because it means all those smug skinny assholes out there aren't necessarily gonna stay that way. SEE HOW THE OTHER, FATTER HALF LIVES, FUCKO.


-If you listen to any of these games on the radio this weekend because you're stuck in the car, beware of the Westwood One voiceover guy. For some reason, the people at Westwood One decided they needed the machoest voice in the universe, so they got some deep-voiced dude and make him growl like a fucking tiger whenever he's introducing the game. Listen, Westwood One. It's football. It's already plenty manly. No need to make the whole broadcast sounds like a fucking F150 ad. Calm down and hire someone with a normal voice, and don't make him eat gravel before you record him.

-I plucked a nose hair the other day (because I am secretly a masochist), and whenever I pluck a nose hair, it's immediately followed with the most violent sneeze imaginable. It feels like my liver is come flying out of my nose. It's kind of intoxicating. I feel like, if someone put a very small turbine under my nose whenever I sneeze like that, it could power my home for a month. Scares the piss out of everyone around, too.


-We're having Shake & Bake tonight, and I now have a Shake & Bake boner the size of a fucking oil pipeline right now. Is Shake & Bake the greatest thing ever? FUCK AND YES IT IS. I love everything about it. If I could Shake & Bake my cereal I would. I even love the process. I love the shaking part. I shake the SHIT out of that bag, to ensure every piece of chicken is evenly coated with orange sodium nitrate powder. Then when you take it out of the oven there's always a little crust on the underside of the chicken that's positively soaked in animal fat. I nurse that crust like a dick. It's unholy, it's so good. When I was single, I ate Shake & Bake at least once a week. That and Kraft Mac together makes for the perfect single guy meal. If you aren't married yet, do yourself a favor and eat as much single guy food as you possibly can, including Stove Top stuffing and Shake & Bake. Because there will come a time when your wife says it's "too salty" or "unhealthy," and you'll only be able to eat it once in a while, and that is awful.

-When I was in college, I was hanging out in a friend's room watching pro wrestling one day and drinking shitty beer. There was another kid in the room, a freshman who lived in my friend's hall and was hanging around because he was a perfectly nice dude. So me and my friend start talking, and we end up talking about girls, because that's what you talk about when you're in college and you're drinking beer and you want to fuck everything with a functional EKG. Somehow the talk got around to one girl I knew.


ME: Oh, I have this girl in my class, Tanya. For some reason I get here in every class, and it's so annoying. She's all short and ugly.

FRIEND: Uh, Drew.

ME: I mean, REALLY ugly. All pudgy and shit.


ME: Kinda looks like a troll doll, you know?

FRIEND: Drew, Drew.

ME: What?

FRIEND: (points to freshman) That's his sister.

ME: What? Oh. OH. Oh… uh… sorry.

The freshman didn't beat the piss out of me after that exchange, but really, he should have. There's nothing worse than putting your foot in your mouth like that. It's been 13 years since this exchange I still feel just as awful about it now as I did back then. The moral of the story: Always make sure the person you shit talk isn't related to an unknown quantity in the room. God, I suck.


-I think the free play is the among the most exciting plays in all of football. I'd love to see how a free play affects completion percentages. If a defender jumps offside and the QB recognizes it and heaves the ball downfield, aren't the odds of a completed pass about 97% better than on just a normal deep ball? I feel like that pass gets completed 8 times out of 10. It's awesome.

-I went to a birthday party with my kid the other week, and 90% of all kid's parties take place at children's gyms, which are located out in the sticks and consist of a giant warehouse area filled with mats and trampolines and big foam blocks to jump over. I love these places. One day, I'd like to get stoned out of my mind and break into one, then go swinging on the rope swing for four hours before being arrested. That would be tremendous.


-They keep showing promos for the new "American Idol" and it looks worse every time I see it. I mean, Steven Tyler barely has a functioning brain at this point. He was already out to lunch two decades ago. Ninety percent of interviews with him end with him saying, "Skeet scat a doo bow EEEEWOWWWWWW!" I mean, he's completely fucking insane. I'm not even sure he knows what he signed up for. I think someone just told there would be free Percocet and he signed on immediately.

-I watch lots of Top Chef, and their money shot every week is having chefs scramble around the kitchen and yell out the names of any ingredient they appear to be lacking. DOES ANYONE HAVE ANY BLACK GARLIC? WHO HAS THE FUCKING BLACK GARLIC?! I'm certain that producers stage this and have the chefs do take after take screaming out the names of random ingredients. Oh, and Jamie eats ass.


-I ate Christmas Eve dinner at my in-laws a few weeks back, and for dessert we had a plum pudding that my aunt sends to me every year. And the way you prepare plum pudding is by dousing it with brandy (nice) and lighting it on fire (fucking double nice). Anyway, I took command of this preparation, because I wanted access to liquor and fire. So I pour the booze on the pudding and light that shit up. Only then I fucked up because I poured more booze onto the pudding while it was already on fire, causing the flames to shoot up into the gravy boat containing the booze and setting THAT on fire, which in turn caused me to freak out and nearly burn the whole goddamn house down.

I was able to put the fire out, but I've spent the past few weeks ruminating on the fact that I very nearly did burn down my in-laws house, and what they would have done to me if I had done so. I mean, JESUS. You get to murder someone if they burn your house down, don't you? I feel like that rule is understood between all Americans. It's gotten to the point where the alternate universe scenario of me burning the house down feels like what actually happened, even if it didn't. I hate that feeling.


-I have two children. One is one year old. The other is four years old. And often, without provocation, the four-year-old will walk up to the one-year-old and smack the shit out of him. And I do everything I can to prevent this from happening, but you can't stand between two kids for 24 hours a day. At some point, if the older kid wants to smack the younger kid, the older kid will succeed. And it's the worst thing ever to witness, because the one-year-old is just going about his business, quite happily, and then he gets hit for no fucking reason at all. And he always looks so shocked and hurt when it happens. It's just fucking devastating. The world is such a nice and wonderful place to him, and then here comes the older sister to RUIN HIS SHIT. The wife and I keep waiting for the younger one to strike back. It's gonna happen at some point. One day, she's gonna smack him for no reason, and he will bring the thunder down on her for it. I can't wait.

-I tried blow drying my kid's hair the other day, and I don't know how you ladies do it. It takes eight fucking years to get that hair dry. And you can't leave the hair dryer in one place because then it burns a hole in your fucking skin. So you have to stand there for a million years and wave the stupid thing around and consume $500 worth of power while the kid is screaming like a murder victim. After a while, I gave up and turned the shit off and brought her out of the bathroom.


WIFE: Her hair isn't dry.

ME: Fuck you. It's dry ENOUGH, god dammit.

Hair dryers eat shit.


Four Throwgasms



Three Throwgasms



Two Throwgasms



One Throwgasm


Last Week: 1-3 (2-2 vs. the spread)

Pregame Song That Makes Me Want To Run Through A Goddamn Brick Wall

"(I Am) What I Am Not," by Idlewild. I'm fascinated by songs that have parenthetical titles that have no reason whatsoever to have a parenthetical title. Like this song, or "Exit Music (For A Film)". Those titles don't need parentheses. They're totally pointless. Or "(I've Had) The Time Of My Life." What the fuck does "I've Had" need to be in parens for? I think any time a song has a title in parentheses, it's because the artists were drunk in the studio one night and came to a stalemate about what to call the song.


HETFIELD: I think the song should be called "Sanitarium".

ULRICH: No. It should be called "Welcome Home".

HETFIELD: I don't sing that in the chorus. Why the fuck should I call it that?

ULRICH: Because… fuck man! It's like, "Welcome Home… TO THE SANITARIUM! This is your fucking home, you know? That's so fucked up!"


CLIFF BURTON: Guys, guys. Use the parentheses, man. "Welcome Home (Sanitarium)."

ULRICH: That's fucking genius! I hope you never die in a bus crash, Cliff! We'd suck if that ever happened!


Embarrassing Song I Once Liked That Will Not Fire You Up

"She Ain't Worth It," by Glenn Medeiros featuring Bobby Brown. Please note the very good ass shot at the :16 mark of this video. The cameraman did his homework on that one. Does Glenn rock a sport coat with no shirt underneath in this video? Indeed he does. Always a sharp look if you're a Hawaiian man. Glenn is a school teacher now. Isn't that cute?


The lyrics to this song, by the way, don't make any sense. Glenn spends the whole song trying to convince you not to go after this one girl, but then he's like, "I'd like to say she used to be my girl, but that would be a liiiieeeee." Dude, you didn't even sleep with her and you're telling me she's not worth it? YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS BECAUSE YOU COULDN'T GET THAT TRIM!

Refs That Deserve A Quick Finger In The Ass
The refs in that Ravens/Chiefs game. Look, I know the Chiefs were more than happy to give that game away anyway, but some of the calls and non-calls they were subjected to were fucking atrocious. Michael Oher got away with at least two brutal holding penalties, and the spot of the ball before Jamaal Charles got stoned on 4th down was comically bad (why Haley didn't challenge it is just another reason Todd Haley is a bastard). At some point in these playoffs, there will be a game-changing call so egregiously shitty that people will talk about it for months on end. It will happen.


Gregg Easterbrook Is A Haughty Dipshit
Well, I see no reason not to make this a regular feature, especially when TMQ writes dogshit like this:

It made my day that Andrew Luck decided to return to Stanford for his junior year, rather than become the presumptive first choice in the NFL draft. Barring injury, there are many millions of dollars in Luck's future no matter when he turns pro — but he will never again have the chance to enjoy the idyllic college life at one of the world's leading universities.


Barf. This is what you get when you enter Gregg Easterbrrok's world. White kids from middle class backgrounds (Luck's Dad is the AD at West Virginia) who can afford to stay in school an extra year are brave and principled, and kids who bolt school early for the money are crass mercenaries. Easterbrook also demands that the BCS add an academic metric to its formula:

The BCS and NCAA should embrace this reform or Congress — which has legitimate reason for involvement because of its funding of major universities and granting of tax exemptions — should intervene.


Of course it should. But why stop there? Shouldn't there be an extra BCS metric for blocking the weak side of plays, and attending church, and engaging in various charitable works? WHY CAN'T STANFORD BE ALLOWED TO JUST PLAY FOR THE NATIONAL TITLE EVERY YEAR?! Easterbrook also theorizes that the Seahawks won on Saturday because they have lots of undrafted and unwanted players and no "glory boys" (there's that term again). The same Seahawks team that finished 7-9, got into the playoffs because their division was weak, and got their game-breaking run from a first round pick. Gregg Easterbrook is a jackass.

Nazi Shark's Vegas Lock Of The Week
Lots of sports sites, to demonstrate the arbitrary nature of gambling, like to have animals like monkeys pick games to see if they can outwit their human counterparts. There's no reason we at Deadspin can't also get in on the fun. So we've asked National Socialist German Workers' Party member Rolf, who also happens to be a shark, to pick one game a week. Take it away, Nazi shark.


"This week, I like Green Bay getting 2.5 points on the road against Atlanta. Does anyone have Jared Lee Loughner's prison address? I owe him a thank you card. I know a lot of people say that political discourse in America has gotten too heated, but I disagree. If you ask me, it's not anywhere near hostile ENOUGH. We should be threatening to kill one another ALL THE TIME. That's how things get done in the world, people. There's no reason to do anything in life unless someone has a gun in your face. That has a way of really forcing the issue."


2010 Nazi Shark Record: 11-6-1 (1-0 playoffs)

Great Moments In Poop History
Start at the 12:00 mark. Greatness awaits you.

BONUS Great Moments In Poop History
Reader Matt sends in a story I call WHERE EVERYBODY KNOWS YOUR POOP:

So me and a bunch of buddies would spend our weekend nights watching sports in our local dive bar before heading across the erie canal (I live in a suburb of buffalo) to the more "hip" bar.

So anyways I'm out there doing my typical weekend imbibing when I realize I'm going to have to drop a deuce. Now, while I'm not happy with this realization, I know I can't avoid it and I don't have a shitting-phobia. At the same time I would prefer to keep this expedition on the down-low, as no one wants to be known as the guy who just had to shit at the bar. So I slink away from my group fairly undetected to hit the men's room. The bathroom is a gamble; there's one stall and two urinals with two sinks across from them. If anyone is in the bathroom, they'll notice you opting for the throne. So imagine the thrill when I open the door on a busy weekend night to see NO ONE IS IN THE BATHROOM. This is perfect- entrants won't know who is pooping, which is good cuz I can tell it's not going to be a clean, solid, or short experience. So I hang up my coat on the door, take out my phone and go through my typical routine of web-surfing/bowel moving. A couple dudes enter to piss but they seem blissfully unaware of my existence. A great moment in pooping slyness may be on the horizon...

Every weekend the line to the women's bathroom extends down nearly the entire hallway which leads towards the main bar area. Girls are usually accepting of nature's law and stand in the long line without complaint. Not this night. The door to the bathroom opens and I hear three very loud, very young, very drunk female voices enter, talking about "I'm not waiting in that line," and "I don't give a fuck about going in the guys room." Keep in mind that some jerkoff architect designed a bathroom to be used for 3 guys and 1 pooper at a time for a bar that gets well over 100 people every weekend night. Immediately I go into panic mode as the girl tries in vain to open the stall door, before announcing to her friends and other bathroom occupants- loudly of course- "I think he's SHITTING IN THERE!" The other girls make the necessary sounds of revulsion while a couple dudes laugh before one of the girls tells me to hurry up.

Hurrying was really my only option by that point- the girls weren't leaving, for being drunk and stupid they had figured out waiting for me to slink out in shame was quicker than waiting to use the girls line like we do in a civilized society. So despite the dump being sloppy and in no way complete, I pushed as much as I could, wiped about a dozen times to remove all fecal matter that would have been excreted into the toilet with more time, flushed and grabbed my coat. With a sigh, and a sad, accepting smile I exited the stall to see that the three girls were of course, ridiculously hot. Perhaps in another world I could have engaged one of them in conversation that didn't go like this:

Hot Girl: It doesn't stink in there does it?
Me: Uhhhhh, I don't think so.
Hot Girl (upon entering and closing the door): EWWW, IT DOES!!


Those girls should be arrested.

Fire This Asshole!
Is there anything more exciting than a coach losing his job? All year long, we'll keep track of which coaches will almost certainly get fired at year's end or sooner. And now, your updated chopping block:

Wade Phillips (FIRED!)
Brad Childress (FIRED!)
Josh McDaniels (FIRED!)
Mike Singletary (FIRED!)
Eric Mangini (FIRED!)
John Fox (FIRED!)
Tom Cable (FIRED!)
Jim Caldwell


I think seven is the final number we're settling on for this year, which is a pity given that it could have been so much higher. However, that sets us up for an epic round of firings next year, with Sparano and Fisher and all those other assholes still very much in contention for dismissal.

I also included Jim Caldwell this week just because of that timeout at the end of the Jets game. He's awful.


Gametime Snack Of The Week


Ho hos! A little bit fancier than Swiss Cake Rolls. A little bit trashier than a buche de noel.

Gametime Cheap Beer Of The Week


MOUNTAIN CREST CLASSIC LAGER! From reader Ryan comes this Canadian abortion fluid:

Lots to like here. There's a 'Damn Good Beer!' tag line on the 24-pack and the 'poor-man's Molson' can design are my favorites.


I like that "Damn Good Beer" is also in quotes, like a blurb for a really terrible movie. It's like Larry King reviewed this beer. I also like that it's "Craft brewed in small batches." That means NOTHING. It just meant you couldn't afford a bigger vat. I MUST HAVE IT. I love the cans strategically placed in the mountain stream, as if nature made them organically. It's the Poland Spring of shitty beers.

Robert Evans' Super Bowl MVP Watch!
Time to start thinking about who the leaders are for the NFL's Super Bowl MVP award. So every week, legendary Hollywood producer Robert Evans will join us to give us his assessment. Take it away, Mr. Evans.


Actually, Mr. Evans is away on vacation this week, but he asked me to transcribe this postcard he wrote from St. John.


"Baby, my favorite for the NFL's Super Bowl MVP is still Tom Brady of the Patriots! Greeting from sunny St. John, where I'm taking a bit of time off from my usual hustle and bustle at the tennis club! What a lovely island. Sunny? YOU BET! Negroes on scooters? ALL DAY LONG! I remember bringing Jon Voight here once, and ol' Voight freaked out when he found out the island had no cocaine on it, AT ALL! A Negro on a scooter told me they were going through a dry spell. Well, Voight decides he's swimming over to St. Thomas so he can get high, and he goes and jumps in the sea! And I tell him you can't swim that far! And you know what Voight says? ‘I could if I had some fucking cocaine, Evans.' So true. So very true."

Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Panthers Fans

The Kids Are All Right. Holy crap, was this movie overrated. I should have known better. I should have known that when a bunch of film critics go IT'S THE MOST ACCURATE FAMILY DEPICTION IN FILM HISTORY, AND IT'S A LESBIAN FAMILY, it's strictly BECAUSE it's a lesbian family comedy. So annoying. Although Yaya DaCosta, the black girl who looks like Lenny Kravitz drummer and gets very naked? She's awesome. I think Julianne Moore demands a violent sex scene every time she signs on for a movie. She can't NOT be naked in a film.


Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
Homer: Wow! You made the front page!
Bart: Aw, Dad, it's just a popularity contest.
Homer: JUST a popularity contest? Excuse me. What's more important than popularity?

Halftime Masturbation Kit
-For the guys: 25 photos of butts courtesy of The Chive. That's a lotta butts.
-For the gals: Reader TexasGal sends in this photo of Some naked Edmonton Oilers. Strangely, they are unoiled.


Enjoy the playoffs, everyone.

Share This Story

Join the discussion