Make it Rain

To preface this post, most of it is borderline nsfw and some of it is slightly explicit/offensive.

To start it off...

(The Sleazer reccommends listening while reading)

I gotta give props where they're due, and Ahole - in one of the biggest emo music upsets of the century - introduced me to this fly version of the Fat Joe song. On a similar note...



Look at that man, how can someone with instincts so mischievous look so innocent?

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Packers Vikings Live Blog

The sleazer, as a Packer fan and as a football fan, will be giving his up to the moment reactions and analysis of the Packers at Vikings monday night football game. This isn't going to be unbiased analysis. It'll be like you were watchng the game with me...the day after it happened.

My thoughts leading up to the game:

I'm not sure if there has ever been a regular season game with more media storylines in any sport. You see players move from team to team, but you still want to think that if they a longtime player for any team, their love for that team would prevent them from playing for their former rival. You even see it happen on a smaller scale with players like Johnny Damon, but Favre going to the Vikings doesn't have a comparison that I can think of.

For some Packers fans it was a complete gut-shot. I am basically numb to the point where I just ignore everything he does. He was the face of the franchise for 16 years, and now he is the de facto face for the rival franchise in his waning years. All these storylines are great, but for me Pack Vikes is enough of a storyline.

Two matchups that I think will be important in this game that haven't gotten the media coverage are the Packers right side of the offensive line vs. the williams family and whoever plays opposite Jared Allen. The packers have really struggled in run-blocking on the right side, but they have an advantage athletically. I expect the Packers to try to exploit this with toss plays away from Jared Allen. Also, expect some screen passes out of 2 TE sets which will help open up some run lanes later in the game.

Another mathcup that bears watching is how Charles Woodson jumps routes vs. Favre. Woodson knows how Favre likes to play, and he is the smartest and best defender they have. Favre has a tendency to throw to guys before they come out of breaks, and Woodson capitalizes on these types of throws.

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Still Got It

You're Welcome

Citizen Number One

If I've learned anything in my life as a sports fan, it's that sports reporters are predisposed towards hyperbole. In an era of around the clock sports coverage, where the writers have become entertainers, these ink slingers frequently resort to making absurd exaggerations and expressing intentionally contrarian viewpoints to sell print and boost ratings (read: Woody Paige/Skip "Fego" Bayless). It's simple--an article that annoints Bryce Harper as "The Best Prospect Ever" is always going to get more attention than one that merely touts him as "A Really Good Prospect." Hell, even in writing for a blog with virtually no readership, I feel the urge to juice up my subject's statures to make them seem more relevant.

I realize that what I write next may come off as more of the same--another piece of Rick Reillyesque bombast to burnish the memory of some undeserving millionaire has-been. The difference in this case is that I mean everything I am about to say and the subject really deserves the praise. It's fitting that the most sincere piece I'll ever write for this site is a paean to the white knight of the NBA (and my childhood idol), the virtuous David Robinson.

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Over/Under, Vol IX: Don't Call it a Comeback

After allowing myself an Oden-esque lapse in productivity, let it be known that the Last Naked Warrior is making his triumphant return to the world of fegos.

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If You're Going To Bury The Truth, Make Sure It Stays Buried

Unless you've been too busy dancing in your underwear to the new Miley Cyrus joint (Certifiable HIT), you realize that tomorrow marks the beginning of the NFL season. For football diehards, the season opener portends many things. Week 1 signifies hope renewed, the moment at which all the abstract posturing and adjustments of the offseason solidify into something tangible. Will Michael Vick prove to be a model citizen in the Philly dog pound? Is this Poop Fargas' breakout year? Is this the Wrangler Jorts Guy's last season? We'll find out in the next few months.

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Freaks: Insidious Sixth

There will be times in your life when you cross a rubicon--one of those points where you recognize that life will never be the same afterwards. For me, last night was one of those nights.

Allow me to set the scene a little bit. One of my first posts on Fegonomics detailed my experience with my company's Red Sox season tickets last year--an experience that pretty much bored to tears. Fast forward 365 days: we got a black man doing his thing in the White House, Big Papi has lost at least 25 pounds of muscle, It Was All a Dream exhibits significantly more alcoholic tendencies, and I still hate baseball...well kinda.

I got tickets for the Red Sox/White Sox clash thinking that the White Sox fans were going to look like this. At the very least, I was excited by the prospect of double fisting $8 bood lights and alienating all the old-timers sitting around me and Dream. After a few assaults on the beer stand, and some freebie soft serve, I was starting to really get into the game. Something about the way Tim Wakefield was pulling some okey-doke shit with his knuckleballs really resonated with me. Around the sixth inning, the the score knotted at 1's, I started proclaiming that Wally Ortiz was going to hit a walkoff.

Anyone (read: the one person) who reads this blog realizes that my beisbol knowledge is limited. Patricia Heaton limited. Limited to the point that I think Henry Rowengartner is still the Cubs' middle reliever. So while I recognized that chaman Ortiz had definitely dropped a lot of bulk after getting off the 'roids, I failed to take into account the deletorious effects getting weaned off the cream and the clear would have on his performance. I mean, the fact that I can bench his batting average is not a very good sign. But statistics? Where we're going, we don't need no stinking statistics.

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