on: things that were in better shape thousands of years ago

Found on Stonehenge dig:
ancient houses, artifacts,
and Sammy Sosa

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on: if they lost their way in minnesoter

Ticket punches Suns!
(That's a metaphor: we've seen
KG's no boxer)

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glorious people's haiku: 1/29/07

Some love from the DC Sports Bog yesterday, and in particular a suggestion from Dan Steinberg too good to pass up:

I loved Barbaro.
Had him surviving for years.
That was a bad bet.

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in requiem 1/29/07

From... as best as I can tell... Luckless Pedestrian, written in the prime of the Barbaro Messageboard:

Run Barbaro, Run
You're going to win! Oh Snap!
You're now adhesive

Little did I know, wading through a cesspool of humanity in the infield of the '06 Preakness, that I would bear witness (sorta) to the defining sports moment of the year.

Sometimes I feel a little guilty about the Barbaro jokes. And then I remember it's a horse. That people were writing letters to. Daily. That's about when those feelings go away.

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on: the twin terrors of Palm Springs 2040

Roger and Tiger
should retire to the same
country club, for laughs

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haiku de grace: week of 1/22/07

This week's big-ups-yusself go to Off Wing Opinion for throwing their love this way. (Best Caps blog on the net and one of the best hockey blogs, period. For those of you lucky enough to get, uh, Versus.) I've been bothering Dan Steinberg at DC Sports Bog for a link, but I can forgive him for not getting around to it this week... he's had a busy week taking pictures of mascots in grocery stores.

I turned on the Winter X Games the other night. People were flipping snowmobiles. I don't know why. The Winter X Games have always seemed a little unnecessary to me when we have Winter Olympic Games. I mean, you're pretty much at risk of death in any winter Olympic sport (except maybe curling)... one of them even has the competitors carrying guns on the racetrack. So what's the point?

Although I did get to see Lindsay Jacobellis fuck up again. That was enjoyable.

As per usual, bookmark us and spread the word! Have a good... well, it's Sunday afternoon now. And there's no football on. Fantastic. So enjoy your Sunday reading. Til Monday... I mean, tomorrow.

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glorious people's haiku: 1/26/07

from Martini John, who knows when this blogger needs tweaking:

Dukie Timeclock Broke?
Is Timekeeper on the take?
Cameron Crazy

...yeah. Clemson got hosed.

One thing we've all learned, though: you GOTTA put a body on McClure.

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on: the Aussie food chain

dingo eats baby,
Serena eats dingo, but
who eats Serena?

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on: the Red Raiders, rolling

Tech wins! "Ike Turner
Motivational System"
must still work for Knight

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on: keeping bad company

tonight on Versus!
rodeo! Sidney! Ovie!
Survivor reruns!

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on: America's Sitcom

next on "The Cowboys":
Tuna quits Dallas-Mifflin,
clueless boss remains

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on: conference championship recaps

Colts win a classic
but focus on real story:
Belichick's a douche

Sexy and Lovie:
a perfect match for South Beach
(but please, no Shufflin')

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haiku de grace: week of 1/12/07

Not a bad first week! Well, I mean, you know, unless you consider "bad" by way of haiku puns. Which are truly horrible. My apologies. Although apologies won't stop them from coming.

Much thanks to the boys at Deadspin for throwing a link my way this week. Consider this a plea: spread the word! Add us to your favorites, your RSS... link to us (and be sure to let me know so I can return the favor)... print out your favorite haiku and staple them to your boss' forehead. Any press is good press!

If you'll excuse me now, I've got to stock up; chips and beer for the games on Sunday, sleeping pills for the inevitable Pats win.

Did you know that $10 tickets for tomorrow afternoon's Caps-Panthers game are sold out? That's good news for the team and bad news for my bank account. Nontheless, I will be there.

Good weekend all, see you on Monday.

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on: conference championship predictions

for once, Peyton won't
just be in Super Bowl ads,
like K-Fed. Colts win.

forecast: snow. favors
Chi-town? nah. too bad they face
the weatherproof Saints

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glorious people's haiku: 1/18/07

none here, but a decent smattering from the fine folks at Deadspin, who were nice enough to link this way yesterday. my favorite, from DaisukeMyBallz:

Plastic Bottle hides
Yet mobile QB can't flee
Apathetic eyes

Oh, Ron Mexico. Your wacky hijinx amuse us yet again.

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on: a fate worse than death in Oakland

when Denny Green says
"no", Al, I think that's a sign
hell won't be so bad

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glorious people's haiku: 1/17/07

from in flagrante delicto:

Click! Paparazzi,
Rejoice! A man who wears skirts
with bobblehead wife.

I tried to do something with the whole "Beckham likes women's clothing" thing but it didn't come together for me... nice work. I'll save the rest of my ideas for when Joakim Noah gets drafted.

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on: convincing America soccer's not gay

soccer's plan to win
NASCAR crowd: a guy who owns
each Spice Girls album

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on: a night where 0 for 51 was pretty solid

Jiminy Cricket!
who needs a conscience when you're
hot as a 'bachi?

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on: a series of bad philosophies

old Marty lacked guts,
new Marty lacked brains, both lack
big wins... bye, Marty?

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5-7-5 makes no sense as a double play, or, why haiku?

a mission statement:
what I hope to accomplish
or at least, to fake

The wonderful thing about the internet is that everybody can have a sports blog. The horrible thing about the internet is that everybody can have a sports blog.

That's not to say that sports bloggers are bad. On the contrary, they are wonderful human beings, toiling away to post free content on the internet only to endure personal abuse from folks like SoXRoX04, IH34RTBR4DY! and Anonymous. Good sports bloggers are fucking saints.

No, the problem is one of information overload. Assuming you follow any major sports team or figure... and not, like, the Moroccan national elephant-back curling squad... there are a multitude of good blogs covering every story, every angle, with different takes and perspectives. It's allll out there for your edification. With enough time to surf the web, any reasonably functional layman could learn enough about a squad to become an expert, if not a GM.

I believe that the next step in sportswriting is not expansion (the One World Under ESPN dilemma) but contraction. 17 syllables. Ask yourself: would the world be a better place if Jay Mariotti was limited to 17 syllables a day? Skip Bayliss? Gregg Doyel? Scoop Jackson?

It's possible that the haiku, at this point, is irredeemably cliché. All the better! Everything there is to say about sports has been said already and by superior writers (the Shakespeare dilemma). After all, it's not as if anything in sports is mindblowingly new. There have been, by my painstaking scientific count, exactly four new sports innovations in the past decade and one of them is that stupid comet-tail on the puck. Do we really believe we're covering terra nova?

To that end, then, I will attempt to cover the sports world 17 syllables at a time, mostly once a day. That doesn't, of course, preclude a couple of haikus after a big weekend. Maybe even the occassional sonnet or rondelet if I'm feeling frisky. I tried doing this with the Nationals last year only to find that there's nothing particularly poetic about Cristian Guzman throwing the ball into the stands at RFK. This year, I will expand my scope and hopefully, my results.

And it's haiku, for crissakes, so play along, huh? Best ones in the comments section get posted on the main page for all to see and appreciate.

I am done, for now,
talking from my ass. Now, for
your daily haiku.

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