The Top 5. Volume 22.

My favorite sports celebrations.

I tried to keep this list confined to one-off celebrations, not dances that were repeated over and over.  So this eliminated things like the Ickey Shuffle, the Atlanta Falcons' Dirty Bird, almost everything The U did back in the late 80's, and unfortunately for me personally, Deion Sanders' gangsta boogie. 











Honorable mentions, Just Keep On Runnin' Division:

Bo Jackson vs. Seattle Seahawks




Drew Nicholas hits a buzzer beater and sprints right off the floor.



Next time I hit a huge buzzer beater, that's the move I'm pulling, just running right off the floor.  Alas, in real life, I had a chance to win a big city league game a few weeks ago, going almost the length of the floor in four seconds....but I air-balled my running floater from the free throw line and we lost in overtime.  Sad.  (Although I don't know where I'd run to once I got out the door, since we don't have locker rooms, and I'd have to return to the gym to get my bag with my car keys in it.  Maybe I could have one of my teammates bring it to me...I dunno, I'll work out the details later.)


Honorable mentions, National Outrage Division:

Reggie Miller gives the choke sign to Spike Lee




Randy Moss moons Green Bay fans, Joe Buck reacts like Moss just murdered an infant




Honorable mentions, Basketball Players Being Pricks But It's Kinda Awesome Division:

Allen Iverson steps over Tyronn Lue




Scottie Pippen dunks on Patrick Ewing




Shawn Kemp ruins Alton Lister's life, simultaneously becomes role model for thousands of teenage boys across the nation





Honorable mentions, Home Run Pimping Division:

 This could absolutely be its own top 5 list, so instead I didn't include any in my top 5.  I know I'm biased, but my favorite home run pimping of all time is easily, EASILY, Manny's walk-off against the Angels in the 2007 ALDS, the very same one that Katie made me miss when she called me moments before the pitch.  (I learned my lesson, and now virtually never answer my calls or texts during big games, so any friends that get mad at me for that, blame Katie.)




The Top 5:


5.  Terrell Owens (and others) on the Dallas star




There's so much to love here.  The original celebration, TO running out to celebrate on the Cowboys' logo at midfield, it just meh.  But I love how the Cowboys get pissed, Emmitt Smith responds by spiking the ball at the same spot while staring down the 49ers sideline, I love how TO responds by TRYING TO DO THE EXACT SAME THING, and I love how some of the Cowboys defense chased him all the way out there to lay him the F out.  And because he's TO, he picks himself up off the ground and goes BACK TO THE STAR AGAIN while his teammates fight his battle.


4.  Theo Fleury slip 'n' slide




Similar to Nicholas' buzzer beater, this is exactly how I would celebrate if I ever scored a game-winning goal.  Mostly because I can't stop on hockey skates anyway.  I'm like Luis Mendoza that way.


3.  Desmond Howard Heisman pose




Seems old now, but was ground-breaking at the time.  How did it take until 1991 for someone to do this?


2.  Brandi Chastain strips down




Homegirl straight popped her shirt off!  Of course this is gonna make the top 5, c'mon, I was 16, a girl in her sports bra was still a pretty big deal to me.  I know this sounds insensitive, but if Brandi is juuuuust a little hotter, she probably gets the #1 spot here.  (Hint, hint, Alex Morgan.  Just think about it for the next World Cup, OK?)


1.  Tiger Woods finger point as he drops a bomb of a putt




At no point over the last 17 years could you call me a Tiger Woods fan.  I cheer for him more now than I ever did, but that's just because he's sort of a villain now, something I thought he should have embraced years ago.  But going back to 2000 and this putt:  at this point in Tiger's career, my Tiger hate was at its peak.  The novelty of the first couple years had wore off, and now he was just dominating every tournament, not to mention keeping my boy Phil from winning majors.  But despite all that, I get goosebumps every single time I see that putt.  You can't really overstate how Tiger made golf cool, and how he pretty much did it single-handedly.  You just didn't see celebrations like that back in the day.

Ironically, Tiger somehow got worse at his celebrations over the years, as evidenced by his famous chip-in at the 2005 Masters.  That was every golfer-caddy awkward celebration joke rolled into one right there.  He also got worse at not banging random waitresses and asking them to deleter their messages, "huge quickly", but that's neither here nor there.

Question Of The Day (Hey, Remember Those?)

Yesterday on The Boards, Noles forwarded a link wherein the good ol' Metrodome is selling their old urinal troughs to the public now.  He then told us about the time years ago that he offered his brother 20 bucks to pee at a urinal at the 'Dome with his pants around his ankles (and how his brother refused, booooo.)  Since we were now officially on the subject of public urinals, I brought this video into the discussion.  An oldie but a goodie from the early days of youtube.





So then we talked about how much it would take for each of us to pull that move, if we were guaranteed a shower and a fresh set of clothes immediately afterwards.  As I am sometimes wont to do, I came in way too low at $500.  I knew I was in trouble when Horp, who is usually more ridiculous than I am when it comes to these matters, required $2,000 and a sky-high BAC to do it.  Jonye needed $10K, that's way too high, whatever, he's a dad now.  When Noles' immediate response to me was "I can easily round up $500 and have you doing that somewhere", I officially got concerned that I might have to back this up someday.  I have to remember that I'm not 19 anymore, and $500 really isn't that much money.

So, the Question of the Day, which yes, I know, are much less fun when we don't have comments anymore, but at least it might make you think a little bit, learn about your own personal boundaries-- how much money would it take you to dive through a urinal trough?

Pleeeease, somebody Price is Right me and say $499, make me feel better about myself.  I'm feeling rather sheepish about my answer right now.

***************

Completely unrelated story, but since we're currently discussing event venue restrooms, and I'm already feeling bad about myself, here we go:  About five years ago, my buddies Jud, Wing, and Disco Dave-- for no reason at all-- decided to start a rumor that I enjoyed, ahem, making love to women in port-a-potties, that it was a big fetish for me.  Unbelievably, this blatant falsehood somehow gained traction, and I found myself scrambling all over town assuring friends and acquaintances that this wasn't true (they really did a lot of legwork in spreading this around.)  There's no real moral to the story or anything, maybe just that Jud and Wing have since moved out of town, and I don't miss them.  Not even a little bit.

What's In A Name

Everyone knows I love a good fake name.  I've been rocking Adam Banks as my main alter ego for over a decade now, ever since honeys was wearin' Sassoon.  Long ago, I did a top 5 list on fake names, since I had a few in my arsenal at that point in my life.  It's a useful tool for so many occasions.  When you're out and about in a different city; when you're talking to a girl you think might be juuuust little cray; when you currently have a significant other, but you're just being a good wingman; or when you're out causing shenanigans and maybe you just want to stay off the grid.  Fake names make the world go 'round.  I don't know what my twenties would've been like without them.

However.  I found out the other night that my buddy JDub is currently using MY name as his fake name at the bar, on the occasions that I'm not with him.  He uses just my first name to begin with, which is sorta thoughtful, I guess....but if the person happens to ask for a last name, there it is, sure enough, -PPY, right there on the other cheek.  Putting my first and last name out on the streets like that.  Shit ain't right.

Now it's one thing when I'm in on it, like at Jared and Steph's wedding last fall, when JDub was introducing himself with my name, and I gave him my wedding ring to wear (in retrospect, that night ended up being the genesis of this little game of his, and I played a large role in encouraging it, so the Inception backfired.  I'll accept partial responsibility for that.)  But now, he's running around, spittin' god knows what kind of game at lord knows what kind of dames.  It's OK when I'm the one acting afool-- sniffing random girls' hair, or telling people I'm a consultant from Mercer, Delk & McCarty and I'm interested in purchasing the Woodlands race track, or whatever the case may be.  At least I have creative control in the process.  But by removing me from the equation, basically, he's besmirching my good name in this fine city of Lawrence, Kansas.  I have a wife now.  Kids within the next couple years.  I'm trying to go straight here.  I ain't a businessman, I'm a BUSINESS, MAN.  But now that's been taken out of my hands.  By my so-called buddy.  

With friends like these, who needs enemies?  Not Adam Banks, I can tell you that much.

OK, well maybe Banks' friends don't like him very much, either.  Bad example.

Laughter

Three things that I can't stop laughing about lately, but might not make you laugh at all:


1.  ~insert Brad Pitt noise~

Every once in a while, I unintentionally ruin things for Teens that she enjoys.  I made the comment once that Ray Lamontagne sings like a dude trying to get somebody's attention from across a public library, and he has never sounded the same to Teens since.  For years, I've ruined Hootie & the Blowfish songs for her by singing in my exaggerated Hootie voice, and sometimes ruin other songs by using that same voice even when it isn't a Hootie song.  I ruin the show Teen Mom 2 when my boo Chelsea is onscreen, by asking questions like "What do you think her hair smells like?" or "Don't you think this scene would be more dramatic if Chelsea took her shirt off?"  (This is Teens' logic, and maybe other ladies would agree:  I'm allowed to make whatever comments I want about celebrities, because I'll never have a chance with them.  But according to Teens, Chelsea is a "real person", and on top of that she lives in South Dakota.  So theoretically, I could meet her in real life.  Ipso facto, I get in trouble when I wonder aloud what color bra she's wearing.  Seems unfair to me.)

And now, simply by really paying attention to a movie and keeping my ears open during a dramatic part, I've ruined Legends of the Fall as well.  Listen to the crying noise Brad Pitt makes at the 27 second mark, and if it doesn't crack you up...well then, you're more mature than I am.  Once Teens got over her anger at me for completely destroying a sad moment in a movie, she remarked that it might've been the hardest she's ever seen me laugh.  So there's that.






2.  SCIENCE!





Everyone knows 'She Blinded Me With Science', right?  It's funny when the British (British?) dude yells "SCIENCE!" throughout the song.  It just is.  I was sorta goofy drunk a couple weekends ago, and yelling SCIENCE at passerby from a bar patio.  Then we saw some mom hit her kid in the parking lot, and then it got super weird and awkward for a little while, and then I yelled SCIENCE at her, and then we all laughed again.


3.  Chris Fitzpatrick for Class President

This SNL short from a couple months ago had Teens and I rolling, and we haven't deleted the episode from the DVR yet, simply because we can't go more than a few days without firing it up and watching this sketch again.  I'm not going to talk about all the reasons why it's hilarious-- what's that old saying?  "Analyzing humor is like dissecting a frog...nobody is interested, and the frog dies from it."  But this video is awesome, especially if you're anywhere near my age.  It's so perfectly late 90's.  I've seen this video in class before.  You've seen this video in class before.  We've all seen this video in class before. 

Free At Last, Free At Last

Andrew White III finally announced his transfer, and for the first time ever, I'm simultaneously bummed out for myself as a fan, and happy for the player to go to a better situation for himself.  Normally, when a Jayhawk transfers, my reaction falls into one of the following categories:

Yeah, you were never gonna get to play, you should probably go somewhere else.  This decision probably works out as good for you as it does for us.  Hey, no hard feelings, big guy.

You had a decent chance to play when you were a Junior or Senior, but you didn't have that kind of patience, and then you were kind of an idiot on Twitter/Instagram/Facebook/other social media.  This decision works out better for us than it does for you, but maybe next time don't be a dick.  However, your end-of-the-bench antics were hilarious, so I will miss you for that.

Oh, you wanna transfer back home because you miss your girlfriend?  Fine, just go, you pussy.  This decision works out better for you than it does for us, so whatever, bro.  We had too many McDonald's All-Americans, anyway.  Say hello to LUMBERGH for me!

Dude.  DUDE.  Dude.  You jumped a guy at a bar and got stabbed.  It doesn't matter who the decision works out for.  You got fucking stabbed.  See ya.

But with White III, he doesn't fall into any of those categories, and I'm siding with the player and blaming Coach Self for the first time ever.  He was a sweet-shooting top-60 recruit in the class of 2012 who showed promise his freshman year.  Then Self recruited over his head for some reason (obviously getting Wiggins at the last minute was defensible; Brannen Greene, however, was not.)  Even still, Self said coming into last season that nobody worked harder than AWIII over the summer, and he would be the first guy off the bench.  That lasted about three games, then AWIII suffered a small injury to miss a couple games, and that was that.  Buried. 

I had been waiting for the transfer announcement since December, and it finally came yesterday.  I think AWIII has a chance to go somewhere and play a major role for a good team, not like one of those transfers who ends up going to a tiny school, or a mid-major.  I don't see any reason why he couldn't go to a Virginia, or a Maryland, or even an Ohio St. or something.  After the season he just went through, he deserves to go somewhere and get some run.  And he'll always have a special place in my heart and an honorary spot on my Wall of Fame, so he's got that going for him.  So long Andrew.

(Seriously, Micah Downs, I hope your girlfriend from small-town Washington that you probably broke up with within 2 months of moving back was worth it.  We hung a banner without you.  If you ended up marrying that girl, well then, I'm not so much of a dick that I can't offer a congratulations.  Bitch.)

Man Spooning

Check out this recently-conducted study of British heterosexual males.  For those of you too lazy to click the link, basically it says that 98% of heterosexual men polled in their study have slept in the same bed as another straight man, and 93% have spooned and/or cuddled.

So you see, it wasn't weird what Paul and I were doing in college.  We were just forward-thinkers.  Really, you could call it very European of us to sleep in each others' beds.  Chicks dig that kind of progressiveness, bro.

Hat-tip to Mandy for forwarding this article along.  Even if it likely came about as an attempt to internally justify her husband's questionable behavior with his best friend back in the day, still.  Knowledge is power.

Semi-related:  this morning, I got busted by the ladies in the office while I was enthusiastically jamming out to Whitney Houston, so if the Huffington Post could release a study absolving me of that little situation as well, that would be GR-eat.

Derby-Less. Sans Derby.

Well, here we are.  In a spot I hoped never to be in.

Schne tried to get me to go to the Kentucky Derby for a couple of years right after he moved to Louisville, and I came up with a lame excuse both times.  After I finally went in 2008 and had one of the most fun weekends of my life, I said "Welp, I'm coming every year until I either get married or have a kid."  That joke ended up becoming fact, as I made the trek five years in a row, until my wedding last year precluded me from attending.  At the time, we just thought it would be a one-year blip, and we'd be back at Churchill Downs in 2014.  But after extensive discussions, Schne and I decided a couple months ago that we would not be getting our Derby on this year either.

On one hand, I'm very OK with taking different vacations and diversifying my bonds a little bit.  We've done the damn thang about as well as it can be done, short of somebody in our crew winning the lottery and bringing us up to Millionaire's Row with all the rich people and celebrities...and Nick Lachey.

On the other hand....Derby Weekend was my favorite weekend of the year.  I could handle missing out last year.  Really, it wasn't near as difficult as I thought, but that's because I was on a fun road trip with my fiancee, on our way to New Orleans and ultimately to Florida to spend a week in a giant beach house with a ton of friends before we got married.  But this year there is no such distraction.  This year, I'm going to feel the full consequences of not being in Louisville on the first weekend of May.  Tears may be involved.

Things I'll miss the most include, but are not limited to, the following:

Mint juleps.  Back in '08, I was not a whiskey fan at all.  I'd be lying if my first couple mint juleps tasted good that year, but hey, when in Rome.  They quickly grew on me, and now just the smell of whiskey makes me want to get to a horse racing track as quickly as possible.  So mint juleps turned out to be a gateway drink, and now I love whiskey.  Though it doesn't always love me back, cough, Pendleton, cough.

Money Is No Object, or M.I.N.O.  In the same vein as Wu Tang's slogan, C.R.E.A.M. (Cash Rules Everything Around Me), I liked to get drunk and say M.I.N.O. a million times throughout the course of Derby weekend.  Your entire sense of value of money goes out the window, whether it's throwing down a triple-digit bet on a horse only because they have a cool name; spending $200 on drinks every day because the aforementioned mint juleps are like $12 apiece; or lighting a $20 bill on fire, then using that flaming bill to light up a cigar (I learned that move from Krusty the Clown, and trust me, it makes you feel BALLER AS SHIT.)

The Twig 'n' Leaf, the greatest little breakfast diner I've ever eaten at.  There's nowhere else I'd rather go in order to put down a solid foundation for a day full o' boozin'.

Sneaking booze into Churchill Downs. It wasn't about bringing in a six dollar bottle of warm whiskey in order to save money....it was about jamming bottles in your dress socks, or duct-taping booze to your crotch, and defiantly strutting past security.  It was about trying to stick it to the man, if only a little bit.  I'm talking about drawing a line in the sand, dude.  Across this line, YOU DO NOT.....it was just about seeing if you could get away with it.  Also, dude, chinaman is not the preferred nomenclature.  Asian American, please.

Inside jokes on top of inside jokes:  More kick for your punch; you're such a bro with your HAIR and your WATCH; nice faggot blanket, faggot!; Early Times!; On a scale of 1-10 I'm really drunk right now; Doyouwantacarrot?  etc. etc. etc.

The Louisville crew.  The kind of people that I only hang out with once a year, but feel like I've known forever.

So there are a few things I'll be a little bit bummed about if you see me at about 3pm on Saturday.  However, thanks to the wonders of internet gaming, there is one thing I won't have to miss out on:  betting on a horse.  I'm going with Wildcat Red at 25-1, solely because I like yelling "W!  I!  L!  D!  CATS!"  every single chance I can.  It's my little cross to bear in life.  And why change up my tried-and-true betting strategy just cause I'm not there?  That would just be irresponsible.