You Missed It: Catch the fever edition

Tony Romo has nothing to do with Ebola in Dallas, but wouldn't it be great if he did?
Tony Romo has nothing to do with Ebola in Dallas, but wouldn’t it be great if he did?

The Jim Beam commercial with Mila Kunis is supposed to be sexy and make me want to buy bourbon (as if I didn’t already). It doesn’t really have that effect on me. In it, she tells the camera how awesome bourbon is while wielding hot and sharp metal objects, and brands one barrel of Jim Beam with her name. She then threatens the barrel that she’ll be back for it in four years. This doesn’t seem like the place for an expectant mother. Guess she doesn’t have to worry about that anymore. If you were busy announcing a Baywatch movie this week, odds are you missed it.

On the next episode of Dallas
The Ebola outbreak in Africa has killed hundreds and sickened far more in Africa. It’s the worst outbreak ever. But Americans were safe from the virus until a man in Dallas was diagnosed with it this week. He told doctors over a week ago that he was feeling sick and had traveled to Africa, but was sent home with antibiotics instead. Now about 100 people, including school children, are being watched after having contact with the man. Everything really is bigger in Texas, including the f*%#-ups.

In the line of fire
This week, Julia Pierson resigned from her post as Secret Service director following a recent batch of security lapses in her agency, including a crazy guy with a knife getting all the way to the East Room after jumping the White House fence. Her testimony before a Congressional committee and her resignation were translated by the crazy guy who made up sign language at Nelson Mandela’s funeral.

His eyes were glassy from pool water
Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps was arrested and charged with driving under the influence in Baltimore this week after police caught him speeding early Tuesday morning. The incident isn’t Phelps’ first run in with the law. It’s not even his first DUI. Because of his legal problems, his sponsorship deals have gone from Wheaties to Beerios.

How to dispose of a Tony Romo jersey

The Dallas Cowboys had a pretty bad season. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t what Dallas fans were hoping for. The season was capped by a loss to the rival Washington Redskins, a game in which quarterback Tony Romo seemed unable to throw to anyone but the other team.

In Texas, there are two ways of getting out your frustration. You can drink like Randy Travis, or you can fire off some guns. One Cowboys fan chose the latter, but with a bit more spite to it. He loaded up a washing machine with explosives, then set his Romo jersey on it, and shot at it with a rifle.

See you next season, Dallas.

But he can only drive if he’s got decent protection

Speaking of quarterbacks, Tony Romo, or “Dull Tony,” as he’s known in the Latin community, is something of a golfer.

Sure, he’s one of those celebrities you see out in the pro-am tournaments, but he’s trying to qualify for the U.S. Open, advancing one round after playing in a local qualifier. True to form, Romo said he plans on getting a bit farther before letting the wheels fall off his game.

Schadenfreude fuels sports

We are in the midst of the annual sports dark ages. Football is over, though they keep trying to push that back further and further. Baseball has only just started. Hockey is still hockey: the soundtrack for drinking LeBatt Blue.

What is a sports fan to do when the only big stories on ESPN are trade moves and novelty plastic bowling ball tournaments? What will wake you up in the morning when there’s nothing in the paper for you but your horoscope?

Did we mention that Terrell Owens got fired again?

That’s right: the biggest overpaid media poison-pill got handed his pink slip by the Dallas Cowboys. At this point, his best chances for playing in the league are Oakland, who fills its stands with LARPing nerds, and Washington, who will — and it pains me to say this — overpay for any “name.”

(Although, they should know better about headcase wide receivers since Michael Westbrook.)

So, put on a pot of glorious Schadenfreude and pour one out to our homey, T.O. Maybe in this current economic climate, the self-appointed king of his universe might have to put his resume on like the rest of us.

Mm, Schadenfreude: make it every morning’s shameful joy.

Eat My Sports: Wherever I may Romo

Forget college basketball. Forget Roger “I didn’t take no freaking steroids” Clemens, forget the NBA, forget it all. This week we’re tackling romance, but not in that kind of awkward “son, we need to talk” type of way, no, I’m sick of celebrity sports dating. This needs to end.

Honestly, since when has a sports icon’s career been defined by People Magazine or Tiger Beat (is that still around?) covers as opposed to their on field performance. Important figures like completion percentage and assist-to-turnover ratio are being replaced by daily taglines of “what they did on their magical week in Mexico.”

The madness needs to stop. The sports world needs to keep from becoming a mock version of E! Continue reading Eat My Sports: Wherever I may Romo