Its Public Enemy? Its Basquiat?

It’s a well-told story: On January 11th 1992, Nirvana Nevermind replaced Michael Jackson’s Dangerous as the number one album on the Billboard 200. In the previous year, that top spot had been held by the likes of Vanilla Ice, Michael Bolton, Paula Abdul and Van Halen. Kurt Cobain stomped that mess, albeit temporarily, with his cut jeans, dingy flannel and lady’s deodorant.

Men’s figure skating is in need of a similar figure. I love the sport, the athleticism, the artistry. But it’s been stuck in a stale sequined glamrocked routine for as long as I’ve known it. That same rote footwork, musty jazz hands, predictably unpredictable Vera Wang trimmed decadent on-ice outfits.

Maybe it’ll never break out of its mold; it’s a sport driven by tradition and elderly judges. There’s margins in playing it safe. But times should evolve. I’m waiting for a Brooklyn skater in high tops and a hoodie to throw down triple axels to DJ Logic. Less Vera Wang, more DIY Dapper Dan.

Alpine skiing has its Bode Miller. Snowboarding has its Shaun White (a guy so counter counter culture he’s made loving your country and respecting your parents cool again.) I love me some Evan Lysacek. But what’s next?

We are men! And so we value our tires more than our wives. We will put up with the pain of listening to their opinions so long as we can still drive our Dodge Chargers.

We will reveal them naked in the shower after finally developing the confidence to use soap to clean ourselves.

Yes, we are men. We will steal our wives’ beer and hijack their bookclubs with harassing sex jokes that make light of our illiteracy. We will pray they do not catch us cheating on them with our milkaholic baby mistresses.

We’ll take off our skirts! Which is to say, we’ll no longer attempt to spend time with our wives without ready access to a handheld television named after their periods.

We are men! We will rock blocking shots on guys with dreadlocks.

(That last one isn’t misogynistic, just amazing.)

A: In. My. Pants.

I was going to draw-up a bloggy Top 10 list of these strangely inspirational “Where Will Amazing Happen?” NBA ads (scope out all 17 here). But then I quickly realized the clear number one would be this ad of LeBron James completely schooling Paul Pierce and dunking KG’s brains out, like some sort of divinely chosen basketball grizzly bear hustling his way through a Man vs. Beast trout fishing event at Yellowstone.

As a diehard Cs fan, whose blood flows thick in green like the leprechaun’s gravy, that wouldn’t fly. But these ads are incredible, and LeBron James is a trout smashing beast:

Also notable: while both Celtics editions of this series are spectacular showcases of KG and Pierce’s championship-caliber dominance, Rondo pops out just as impressively, collecting the steal from Rodney Stuckey to start off the fast break for KG, and doing a little jibby jab to get Cleveland dancing enough to set up Pierce’s drive.

Where will Rondo’s “Where Will Amazing Happen” happen?

I’m a casual, predominately accidental viewer of Jim Rome is Burning, and I should admit I’ve never listened in on Rome’s radio show.

But I’m absolutely certain Jim Rome himself wrote this Craigslist ad:

The Jim Rome Show and Jim Rome Is Burning are looking for a writer(s). Looking for someone who comes at it from different angles, knows sports thoroughly, and is hungry, competitive and driven. Must be willing to grind. Tremendous potential payoff and upside for the right candidate(s).

I am out.

Behold the Führer’s on-camera meltdown over the unlikely marriage between the Buffalo Bills and Terrell Owens:

“And you know what the worst part is? I just bought a James Hardy jersey. You can bet TO will steal his number 81.”

Count me as glad the rumors proved incorrect; Hitler simply isn’t a Pats fan.

I find it ironic that a league which has already integrated video technology into its everyday gameplay would tolerate spying and the stealing of signals when done using binoculars, polaroids and lip-readers, but not when using a video camera.

And not even just not when using a video camera but not when using a video camera in a location potentially accessible by coaching personnel during the game in order to gain an immediate competitive advantage. Filming signals from the stands and press box to be used ex post facto? Perfectly legal.

Philly columnist Rich Hoffman sums it up best:

Belichick did not do anything that lots and lots and lots of other coaches do – he just did it with a camera. He did not break some solemn code of integrity. What he did was violate a league directive that attempts to regulate the lack of integrity that has been a part of this sport forever.

The Patriots weren’t guilty of cheating so much as they were guilty of not cheating in the way the NFL rules and by-laws allow us to cheat. Seems to be a fine distinction.