Giants in the Super Bowl? That's pretty funny ;-) I was wondering where in today's post you would interject some humor.

And yes, Irvin wasn't a complete asshole, but he was an asshole nonetheless :-)

Sometimes I struggle for topics. This was one of those times.

Don't mess with McDonald's, dude.

Yes I agree with Lucy. If there was no McDonalds... I wouldn't have those hash browns... mmmm hash browns.

OK - this comment from the Red Sox fan letters to Page 2 BURNED me:

"These Yankee fans don't, and can't, understand our pain. It (ticks) me off, but really, it's not their fault. As angry as I am right now, I'd still rather be a Sox fan than a Yankee fan. Because if we ever do win, our celebration will make any of theirs look like a day at the DMV. Even if we don't, at least I have something to believe in. Last night, and even this morning, I felt like I never wanted to watch sports again. I've changed my mind. 'Tis better to have rooted and lost than never to have rooted at all."

You know - what the FUCK??? Do any of these MORON Sox fans realize that the Yankees, when they won in '96, were 18 years in between pennants, let alone a World Series ring? Do they realize that one of the great Yankees, Don Mattingly, NEVER got a ring? Do they realize that in '81, thousands of young lads such as myself CRIED THEMSELVES TO SLEEP because of Ron FUCKING Cey and the evil LA Dodgers?? Do they?

I mean, the vast majority of us Yankee fans didn't have the pleasure of growing up in the 20s, 30,s, 40s or 50s. The closest I ever got to Mickey Mantle was a plate of nachos at his namesake sports bar on Central Park South.

And celebrations? Let's rewind to 1996 shall we? Bizarrely, I was watching the game at a true shithole: the Dallas BBQ on W 72nd. Let me tell you, when Charlie Hayes hauled in the final out (a foul pop, drifting third base side) I had the most spontaneous explosion of tears burst out of my eyes since I was an infant. People were hugging each other, falling on the floor, laughing, crying, or both. And then we burst out in the UWS streets where we promptly found Amsterdam Ave SHUT DOWN, cops on horses, police helicopters everywhere. People were partying in the streets harder than any St Paddy's Day or New Year's Eve combined. Every bar was impossible to get into - no one cared because the cops were cool and just let everyone drink etc. Chicks were hugging cops and sitting on their horses. Random dudes would just get in your face and scream "Give me some love, Yankee fan!!" and then just hug you, or high five you, laughing, crying. I girl ran up to me and hugged me and started to kiss me until her boyfriend (I guess) pulled her away and sheepishly said "Sorry."

Don't even get me started on the parade down the Canyon of Heroes. THER IS NOTHING IN BOSTON THAT CAN EVER COMPARE TO A TICKER TAPE PARADE DOWN THE CANYON OF HEROES. Nothing.

Yeah - our party is like a day at the DMV. Masshole. Boston isn't a loser community but let me tell you - the Sox fanbase are a bunch of losers because they WANT to be losers. What a warped mentality when some masshole thinks its better to be a lovable loser than it is to have the grit and determination to become a winner.

And yeah - I'm in a pretty shitty mood today. Thanks for allowing the rant.

Well put on Sox fans' sour-grapes claim about how they're gonna out-party New York 26 times over, as if we watch games while sitting on our hands.

As if we don't deserve to win because we don't care or something. Hey, Massholes, ask any Red Sox fan in NYC the night of Boone's home run if anyone cared. See that Stadium shaking? It was a car-honker and stranger-hugger. I was high-fiving cabbies driving down Amsterdam Ave., hugging strangers in the bar, relishing in the sounds of people screaming on the streets and cars blaring their horns. What a party.

Paul,

I went to De La Salle HS and the reason that they don't have the 20 mile bus ride anymore is that no one in Northern California will play them anymore. DLS does not have a league because of this and has been forced to play a Notre Dame, independent schedule. They now go out and try to schedule the best teams that they can.

This is the best bit of writing about the Giants this year, from Dr. z's column:

I love Giants games because they always involve great drama. The plot in Minnesota centered around TE Jeremy Shockey and the special play -- a shallow cross -- he was begging Jim Fassel to call. Finally, on the crucial drive, the coach called it, and with LB Chris Claiborne in vain pursuit Shockey broke it for 46 yards. "I had it in my hip pocket," Fassel said later. Cut to the action. The Metrodome crowd is screaming. The sideline is in turmoil. Fassel pushes back his headset and reaches into his hip pocket. What's this? Expired fishing license. Postcard from Hawaii. "For God's sake, coach!" they're yelling from the field. Matchbook from The Golden Ox restaurant in Kansas City. Hmmm, wonder when I was there. "Coach! Coach!" they're screaming. Hey, here it is. "Shockey! Shockey! I found it!"

Shockey has a better chance of becoming the next Pope than making a super bowl appearance this year. Sorry, Paul.
I watch Countdown almost every Sunday morning, and Irvin just doesn't do it for me. What happened to Sharpe?