From the Weekend That Was

The best thing I can say about the weekend we just experienced is that we’re now one weekend closer to the start of football season. And it’s going to get worse. The NBA playoffs, believe it or not, will actually end, as will college baseball, which will leave us with nothing but Major League baseball for a solid two months. Now, those months could prove to be interesting if more steroids users get named (Seriously, how the hell has Alex Rodriguez’s name been the only one released from the infamous list of 104 or whatever names of users? It makes no sense. I would like to take this chance to announce to the national media that everyone understands and believes that Rodriguez is a schmuck. We really do. Please move on and find someone else to crucify for our entertainment.), but if we’re subjected to keeping tabs on the Blue Jays and their run at the AL East title, then July and August will suck.

On to what happened over the weekend…

Much like Rasputin, the undead Brett Favre refuses to die. First, he was interested in a comeback with the Vikings. Next, a story came out saying he wasn’t coming back. Now, the latest appears to be that he sent X-rays of his right shoulder to the Vikings, and if team doctors determine he does not need major surgery on his shoulder, the Vikings would be willing to sign him. And Wrangler is pissed because Favre showed up on TV over the weekend in a Snapper mowers commercial (I have no idea whether they are or not, it just seems that they wouldn’t want those fancy pants mowers hurting the image of their permanently unshaven, dirt-lovin’ good ol’ boy who loves playing in spontaneous, unorganized touch football games in soaking wet field because he just loves football that much.).

I look forward to this story gathering more steam because I really want to see if ESPN has the balls to put a doctor with the credentials of Leo Spaceman on SportsCenter and claim he is their “Senior Biceps Tendon Expert.” And who doesn’t want to see Rachel Nichols get scooped on yet another Brett Favre story.

Falcons get their first taste of a Peria Jerry injury. If you’re a regular reader here, you know that outside of some immediate family members, no one loves Peria Jerry as much as I do. Hell, I’m still working on getting that apartment for the two of us lined up. I’m a mess without him. I miss him so damn much…maybe I should stop talking for a while.

(Waiting for a while to pass…)

But Jerry has had problems staying healthy and you could accurately call him injury prone. I’m not entirely sure (and simple research could easily prove me wrong), but I believe every year Jerry was at Ole Miss he missed some game time with an injury. I have a hard time believing that at the next level this trend will stop. Logic would suggest that going against stronger and faster players will cause him just as many, if not more, injuries.

The good news for Jerry and the Falcons is that, unlike at Ole Miss, he’ll be around professional trainers and doctors who know what they’re doing (although I assume there are one or two exceptions at Ole Miss, but this is the same group that often seemed baffled when treating sprained ankles and hamstring pulls). Professional teams aren’t going to invest millions of dollars in players only to have them treated with some “good Rebels” types. I may be naïve in thinking that, but I like to hold on to the idea that someone, somewhere runs a football program the way it should be run.

And thus begins the annual Ole Miss baseball collapse. The Ole Miss baseball team dropped two of three against State, one of the worst teams in the SEC, its ace pitcher hasn’t pitched in two weeks and no timetable has been set for his return. At first, Scot Bittle was said to have a sore bicep. Then, when it was obvious that story wasn’t holding water, Mike Bianco admitted Bittle had an MRI, which allegedly revealed no structural damage. Throw in some shaky starts by other guys in the rotation, and all of a sudden a once good SEC rotation doesn’t seem the same. If you’re an Ole Miss fan, would you feel good about Brett Bukvich or Nathan Baker starting a must-win game?

The NBA Playoffs rage on: A quick summary. No Tracy McGrady. No Yao. Kobe Doin’ Work. Aaron who? So, Shane Battier CAN score. Stuart Scott street talkin’. Send in the scrubs. Don’t miss Kobe Doin’ Work. Cross promotion and shit. Tied at 2. Phil Jackson doesn’t get f#$%@*! embarrassed.

Mavericks down 2-0. Do or die. Almost. Dirk not distracted by women folk troubles. Please retire, Jason Kidd. Carmelo don’t wor…sorry, copyright infringement…Carmelo doing as he pleases. But workin’. Late collapse. No foul. Hysteria ensues. Josh Howard not amused. Mark Cuban fuming, insults mothers. Kenyon Martin says he’ll take care of it. So long Dallas.