Prince Fielder Just Changed The Course Of History

Man walked on the moon and things were never the same again. First it was Moon Pies, then it was Lance Bass going into space and now I am writing to you from Pepsi Presents: Madonnatown Heights, the capital of the US colony on the Moon. It's a place where the astronaut ice cream supply is endless and Martian women are always stopping by for zero gravity booty calls. Oh, hey, a comet just passed by, but no big, it was like the fifth today. That's just what space-life is like. Jealous?

Anyway, I don't want to get ahead of myself, but I feel like we are on the cusp of something just as big as Neil Armstrong's first steps on my new home. Watch this video of Prince Fielder celebrating after a recent walk-off home run.

One giant leap for mankind! Baseball is not a sport where people like to have fun. Like, this was the most fun thing we've had in the last 15 years. And even that was aided by steroids. Because baseball, when it doesn't need a homer-supported spike in popularity, is a game built on keeping one's cool with occasional breaks for dip spitting. This was such a brave move by Fielder and the rest of the Brewers, but it totally shouldn't have been. Everyone's upset, he might get thrown at and Skip Bayless is probably going to rip all his hair out. That's unacceptable! Walk off celebrations are - sorry, WERE - so dumb. Guy points at dugout, high fives third base coach, throws off helmet, gets patted on head by teammates. YAWN.

Fielder stepped it up like eight notches. I'm excited to see where this goes next. I am almost certain we will determine future Hall of Famers not by whether they reached 500 home runs or 300 wins, but how they reacted in the face of change. Did they see this as a challenge or were they too scared to fight tradition? Only time will tell. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go put on my spacesuit so I can pull off a Frontside 3600° Indy on my board in this giant crater in my back-space-yard before the sun comes out and scorches the terrain outside my bubble home.

Never Uniforget, Volume I

Yesterday morning, in the span of an hour, I watched this trailer and saw some guy talking about cool new clothing trends for men on my local Fox affiliate. I couldn't find my remote and Regis and Kelly were just two channels away! So frustrating. But the point is that during that hour I was reminded yet again that fashion is seriously the dumbest thing. The worst. That said, I would like to introduce our new running feature: Never Uniforget, in which I take a look back at some of my favorite long lost uniforms and uniform trends. Let's "make it work," guys.

Well this man knows what's up. Today's Milwaukee Brewers uniforms are so lame. Whoever designed them sure "brewed" up something bland! (Don't throw your underwear at me and the brick wall behind me because this is a comedy club and I am killing it all at once, ladies.) Nobody these days rocks the classic blue and yellow. In 4,000 years, space historians and cyborg Mitch Albom will look back and remember regular old blue and yellow so much more fondly than this dark blue and gold business. Because the fact of the matter is: you can't do better than the best and you can't make a logo that has more hidden letters than this one. The glove is made up of an "m" and a "b," guys. Reassemble your exploded minds, please, we have more to discuss. Brewers Glove Cap: Never Uniforget.

The '90s: a fun time for the NBA. Dennis Rodman was dying his hair, Lil Penny was still on TV, Shawn Bradley still had a career. Today, everything is sleek and cool. Chris Bosh would not be seen in a cactus uniform. Even Marcin Gortat would not be seen in a cactus uniform. But back then, uniforms with cacti made sense somehow and that is a wonderful thing. Fans didn't just want the team name on their favorite team's jersey - they wanted a single, simple cartoon drawing that showcases the environment of their stadium's surrounding area. And they wanted it bad. I am blaming the 1999's lockout as the roadblock that kept this trend from really catching on. That year with no basketball was our last chance to add a doodle of a tree to the Blazers uniforms or a little snowflake to those of the T'Wolves. But when the league came back, it became important to stay cool so they wouldn't lose more fans. And just like that we are left with a trend that, like Freaks and Geeks or Melissa Joan Heart's film career, was terminated before its time. A beautiful corpse, indeed. Cactus Jersey: Never Uniforget.

Could you imagine if the Padres busted these out and started wearing them again full time? Everyone would hate it. They would say, "The letters are lower case" and they would say "There are no buttons on that jersey" and they would say, "No other team is rocking brown and yellow uniforms for a reason" and they would all just be wrong. I don't need a rebuttal. If you look at those jerseys and don't fall in love then we will never see eye to eye on anything. A lot of uniforms are so similar these days that either you want to stand out you either have to look to the future or pull from the past. The Padres would immediately become my favorite team, especially if they all decided to go with the white kicks and crazy hair. On one hand, they say those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it, so I almost want to say that we should forget these uniforms so that maybe they might come back into style, but a day without thinking about these beauties would be too awful and not at all worth it. The Early 80s Padres: Never Uniforget. No, never, never, ever, don't you EVER THINK IT.

Tarvaris Jackson Has Had A Tough Week

Oh man, everyone's talking about Brett Favre! I don't know about you (I know everything about you because I know all five of you readers personally), but I have gotten soooo many MySpace bulletins. Everybody's talking about how he skipped camp, how annoying all the coverage is, how John David Booty changed his number from 4 to 9, but no one is talking about how this is the second huge blow this week to former Vikings starting quarterback Tarvaris Jackson.

Let me put this in terms you understand: in middle schools across this great country, young guys with their sleeves rolled up are teaching history classes and being crushed on so heavy by you and your friends who, like you, are 12 year-old girls. These guys are putting up posters of Bob Dylan on their classroom walls and playing CSNY's "Ohio" while you free-write about the Constitution. They are hitting on the new English teacher while you're waiting for the fire safety assembly to start. They are pulling up next to your minivan on the way to dance class, and you are mouthing to your mom, "Oh my God, it's Mr. Carnazza," but then you are noticing that the new English teacher is in the passenger seat, and you are devastated.

Well stop crying! That was not your last chance at love! And this was not Tarvaris Jackson's last chance at rocking the NFL with his blend of passing and running skills. But it feels like it, right? Now that does not mean you and Tarvaris shouldn't take some time to write angry diary entries. I just want you and Tarvaris to know you will come out of this with newfound confidence. Pain is sometimes necessary and in this case, it will lead to Tarvaris becoming more focused than ever and regaining his starting role next year and you mustering up the courage to ask Todd Lipschultz to the Winter Ball in between science and gym.

But if that wasn't enough (and that is definitely enough because what I am about to say is so dumb) Tarvaris took a tough break in the virtual world of Madden football when Michael Vick was signed by the Philadelphia Eagles. I was all set for the Vikings to be my go-to team this year. As someone with no skill in the game, I really enjoyed sending all my receivers to the left and then scrambling to the right with Tarvaris. Oops, you could beat me now if we played online. Oh wait, only NERDS play online and I'm not a NERD, NERDS. I cannot win in Madden by calling smart plays, so I exploit all the holes I can find and stretch any kind of realism the game might have. Which is why Philly signing Vick blew my mind. Two running quarterbacks on the team, plus a great running back, solid defense and awesome new wide receiver all running some kind of kooky Wildcat offense? OKAY! Sure, there's some lingering discomfort and general ickyness about playing with Vick, who did things too horrible and serious to mention in a blog with "Ice Cream" in the title, but...you know, actually, there's really no but. I feel kind of awful. Still: I think I'm going to be playing with the Eagles a lot. Sorry.

So here's where Tarvaris stands: not starting in real life, not starting on my XBox, probably sighing and frowning a lot while carrying the clipboard on the sidelines. Well I hope he keeps his chin up, secure in the knowledge that his cool history teacher is not the only fish in the sea. Wait, no, someone clear up that metaphor for me. I'm lost.

Let's Make Me Not Afraid Anymore

I had this friend who was so scared of ladybugs for some reason. To cure him of this debilitating psycological problem, he found some doctors who put him in a room full of ladybugs to show him that ladybugs were actually friendly and not that bad. Science, guys. I thought I'd like to try this treatment for myself but I couldn't find any licensed physician who would put me in a room with possums or lightning or Michael Douglas. But one thing I can subject myself to is talk show interviews. Man, nothing gets me more uncomfortable than watching interviews with people I admire. I just want them to do well! You know, no awkwardness, no tv fakeness, no anything that would make me uncomfortable watching. So let's take a look at some some interviews with athletes to make me feel better. I need to know that these things can go okay. Let's fix me!



Well, you know, not great, but I'm doing okay. Maybe somebody get me a paper bag to breathe into or something, no biggie.



Oh that is not how either of them wanted that to go! I shouldn't be able to see my heart beating, right? Oh man, this collar is so tight. Really hot in here! Why aren't you guys sweating? I'm doing okay. I'm doing okay. I'm doing okay. Another...



So dizzy...

The Secret Life Of Rashard Lewis

When I started this blog in the mid-50s, steroids weren't even an issue. Athletes drank whiskey instead of Gatorade and smoked cigars at the plate and WE LIKED IT THAT WAY. But then as the Cansecos and Estalellas of the world started popping up, I said, "I'm not touching this." Lots of talk about bacne - didn't want anything to do with it. But then Rashard Lewis tests positive and the world gets confused and doesn't know what to say and I need to be the one at the party, when no one's talking, to clear my throat and demolish all awkwardness by saying, "Let's get this party started."

I mean, maybe nobody's talking about this because everyone realizes this is a fluke. Steroids in basketball aren't "a thing." But even if this isn't the beginning of some huge series of revelations about steroids in basketball, it is another weird thing about Rashard Lewis. So many notches on his "weird stuff about me" bedpost. Recap: named after Ahmad Rashad, was in the draft green room and didn't get picked until the second round, that chin thing he had going on last year, and now this. But the weirdest thing is probably his game. What are we supposed to make of a 6'10 power forward with no inside game who hangs around the 3-point line? The answer's pretty clear: he's from the future.

Obviously, he was a below average player in 2035, got his hands on a time machine and travelled back to the 90s to play high school ball and enjoy some of the hottest jams ever. In the future they just implant knowledge chips into your head, so he arrived before the one-year-of-college rule was put in place because college would be so boring to a man who knows everything. And in the future, everyone on the court can play every position. They're athletic, they can go outside and drive, they consider Manu Ginobli their Jordan. This is starting to make more sense. Plus, if Bill James is right, everyone in the future is going to be totally down with steroids.

Until he admits it, there's no way of knowing this for sure, but when he lives until he's 150 and everyone in 2035 is rocking some Pharaoh-looking chin-hair, I'll be nodding my head slowly with a smug grin and you all can bring me gifts and maybe I'll forgive you for doubting me.

“My game’s like the Pythagorean Theorem. It ain’t got no answer.” - Shaq

Shaquille O'Neal going to Cleveland was either kind of okay or really dumb, basketball-wise. Whatever. People seem to be ignoring the fact that this man is now teammates with this man. Shaq + Delonte West should be a goofy force to be reckoned with. It's like Batman was chilling at the Justice League of Goofy headquarters brooding off in the corner because he has no equal on the team ("get on my level, Martian Manhunter," he thought) and then all of a sudden Superman joins the squad and the two unique brands of goofball work together and learn from one another to better themselves and the world. Though they both deliver laffs, the two are very different. Shaq’s polished - he's been around a minute, he's made a tv show, he's fine-tuned his image. Delonte is wild, less self-aware and, like Batman, might actually be a crazy person.

We've all seen his new KFC parking lot freestyle video, right? Oh wait, no, the video has 7000 views and I have 14 million readers, so I guess not all of you have. Anyway, the video is classic Delonte: rambling, hilarious, borderline nonsensical. That's not to say it couldn't be improved. Take a look at the best NBA freestyle ever, as performed by Shaq. I think if you mix the good parts from both (Delonte's friend, Shaq having the Cheers theme song on his phone for some reason, Delonte's love of original recipe KFC, the fact that Shaq's video only goes for 45 seconds) you'd have the best thing of all time on your hands. I just hope that the two realize the great heights they can reach together (and not just because Shaq's so tall yuk yuk yuk).

Bronson Arroyo: King Of All Mediocre 3rd Starters

"Andro made me feel great, I felt like a monster. I felt like I could jump and hit my head on the basketball rim," -- Bronson Arroyo

"Are you crying? There's no crying in baseball!" -- Tom Hanks, A League Of Their Own

"Are you crying? Is it because you're laughing so hard at something Bronson Arroyo said?" -- The first draft of that line.

Too good. I mean, he was feeling great! Not so great that he could dunk or do something actually cool. He was feeling so great that he could jump up and be clumsy and embarrass himself. But I know how he feels - when I got my Reebok Pumps, I was running so fast, I felt like I could slip on some marbles and then wet myself.

It's important to note that this isn't the first time Bronson Arroyo has said/done something hilarious off the field. In fact, it'd be way more notable if he'd done something amazing on the mound. To quickly summarize:

He's a wonderful actor.
He's a wonderful singer.
He's a wonderful hair-stylist.

Bronson Arroyo, keep doing what you're doing. Even though everything you've been doing has kind of been the worst, I still love you anyway.