Gonzaga Player Profiles

Well, it’s March Madness time, meaning I am yet again staking my happiness to how well Gonzaga does in the tournament. As a public service, I’m providing some brief profiles of my favorite team in the tourney, in case others are interested in following them as well. And yes, I realize that this post has just doomed them to early elimination.

Adam Morrison: The mustache angle has been overdone in the national media. Frankly, that story is played-out.

…long pause…
…shifting eyes…
…cracking knuckles…

Unfortunately, I can’t walk past a dead horse without subjecting it to my own merciless beating:

If you haven’t seen Morrison’s mustache, simply tune into today’s game, or catch any episode of The George Lopez Show. I’m serious. I was flipping through channels the other day and saw that the Mexican kid that plays George’s 13-year old son has the exact same haircut and facial hair. Trust me, it actually makes the show worth watching when he’s on camera.

On a related topic, I present to you a new definition of wasted time: I spent over an hour (on company time) searching for a current mustachioed headshot of Luis Armand Garcia (the child actor cast as George’s son.) I searched Google and every “George Lopez Show” related fan site on the Internet. Thankfully, there were only three such websites. I only tell you this to illustrate the pain and sacrifice I endure to try and put funny content on this website. Here’s the best I could do:

First, Adam Morrison:

And now Luis Armand Garcia: (sorry that it’s only a side view… just trust me about the mustache part.)

Onto the rest of the team:

Derek Raivio: He’s the starting shooting guard. If it looks as though he’s about 14 years old, that’s because he is. He’s got an unreal fake ID. Ironically, he’s the one guy on the team that could justify a bad teenage mustache.

David Pendergraft: Introducing the token really white guy. (On Gonzaga’s roster, you need to clarify the degree of whiteness.) He’s a role player, he takes charges, and he even has red hair. By any standard of measure, this makes him the quintessential white guy on a college basketball team.

P-Mac: Also known as Pierre Marie Altidor Cespedes. If his name doesn’t scare you, neither will his nationality: French Canadian.

Erroll Knight: Treading carefully as I type this… let’s just say he’s the anti-Pendergraft.

Jeremy Pargo: Backup point guard. What he lacks in height and stature, he makes up for in cockiness and trash-talking. Such is always the case.

J.P. Batista: He’s easy to spot, just look for a 6-10 Brazilian center, weighing 280+. He’s a solid player, but unfortunately has the same vertical leap of my wife in her second trimester.

Sean Mallon: He’s the starting power forward. Although, “power” might be too strong a word. Maybe “persistent”? Or perhaps “moderate”? I like that one. He’s our starting moderate forward.

So that’s it. Let the games begin, and Go Zags!!!

Cutting the Cord

Allow me share the contents of my deluxe Ronco Knife set:

Butcher knife
Carving knife
Boning knife
Bread knife
Cheese knife
Paring knife
Fillet knife

Are you seeing the same glaring omission that I am? That’s right, there’s no Umbilical Cord Knife.

My wife is going to deliver a baby in a few months, and it is my responsibility to cut the umbilical cord. I’m okay with this. As the man of the house, it’s my job to kill the spiders, take out the garbage and sever feeding tubes as needed.

However, what will I use to actually make the cut? I assume they provide a cutting device of some kind at the hospital, but I’m not positive. I’d hate to show up unprepared, and have to dig through my pockets and use my car keys or something.

To prevent potential embarrassment, I’m going to bring my own blade to the delivery. What type of blade, you ask? First off, I’m extremely reluctant to raid the kitchen knife set. Sure, a butcher knife would work, but it seems like it might be overkill. And I don’t want my child’s first sight of his father to include me wielding a butcher knife. For this same reason, I won’t bring a chainsaw in either. I really want to make a good first impression here.

Here’s another concern… Will I have a cutting board to work with? Or am I going to have to swipe and cut the cord in midair? If that’s the case, I think I would rather have something longer, like a sword. A sword would certainly look cool too. Plus, it would bring a little showmanship to this event.

Of course, for a midair cut, hedge clippers could also be effective. Hedge clippers are certainly practical, and would probably have a smaller margin for error compared to the sword. Although, it obviously wouldn’t look as cool as wielding a sword. It seems like there might be enough theatrics in the delivery room at that time, so maybe I don’t need to steal the spotlight.

On the other hand, I want my son to think I handled this moment with a certain degree of awesomeness. For instance, my dad used throwing stars to sever the umbilical cord when I was born. Everyone, including the doctor, thought that was pretty spectacular. Using hedge clippers seems more like I’m cutting the ribbon to dedicate a shopping center, rather than symbolically severing the bond between mother and child.

Perhaps I should consider the consistency of the umbilical cord as well. Is it soft and flexible? Or is there firmness to it? Maybe if it is firm enough, I could get someone to hold it steady and I could karate-chop through it. Talk about showmanship! That would definitely bring down the house.

Finally, I have one other alternative I’m actively considering. What if I were to craft my own handmade umbilical cord knife? In my garage, I could make a beautiful ceremonial knife, with a gilded blade and ornate handle, possibly with a carved dragon on it. And I would unsheathe this blade solely for the purpose of severing the umbilical cords of my many children. Ultimately it would become a family heirloom, serving as the blade that welcomes several generations of my descendants into the world. Needless to say, I’m leaning heavily towards this option.

Xbox Live Personality Profiles

As luck would have it, I no longer have to make a trip to the bus station or frequent cockfights to interact with social degenerates.

Thanks to the miracle of Xbox Live, I can have an assortment of wretched personalities beamed right into my living room. Here’s how it works: Whenever the Zillionaire Platoon is short a man, the Xbox Live “matchmaking” service selects an available player from its network to fill out our team. Of course, these members are carefully screened for red flags, like normalcy or general competence, before joining our squad.

The remaining dregs of society will produce our new teammate, usually in the form of one of the characters below:

The Screamer: Are you capable of screaming into your headset, uninterrupted, for an entire ten-minute match? If not, are you willing to at least attempt it? Sadly, this actually happens. Frequently. Of course, if The Screamer’s fingernails were being removed with pliers during game play I would be a little more understanding. But that’s not the case. The unfortunate reality of the situation is that our nation’s mental hospitals are woefully under-populated.

The Racist: What’s the best way to unwind after placing a burning cross in someone’s lawn? Apparently it’s signing onto Xbox Live. Generally, this player assumes every member of the opposing team is of whatever race he happens to hate the most, and he directs his epithets accordingly. As for being a teammate of this individual, we are pretty much left to spend the entire game cringing.

Tourette’s Syndrome: Why bother using the headset for discussing strategy when you can just bark orders and yell random profanity and insults at your teammates? Seriously, I’m asking. That’s what the headset is made for, right? As my teammates can attest, I have a severe case of this affliction… let’s just move on.

Malibu’s Most Wanted: This suburban white kid loves to quote explicit rap lyrics in coordination with each kill. Also, he turns his baseball hat cockeyed and dons a garish chain during game play. (All right, technically I don’t know if that last part is true, but I assume it is.)

The De-Leveler: What’s it called when you’re afraid of success? I’m pretty sure there’s an actual word for it. Whatever it is, the De-Leveler suffers from this condition big time. Inspired by Johnny Knoxville’s character in the movie The Ringer, the De-Leveler aspires to artificially lower his rank so that he’ll be able to dominate inferior competition. Of course, to achieve a dramatic drop in his skill ranking, the De-Leveler needs to sabotage a few games in grandiose fashion. Unfortunately, we usually don’t realize we have a De-Leveler in our midst until he’s aiming a rocket launcher directly at us.

The Tough Guy: Nothing reeks of masculinity more than challenging someone to a fight via an Internet connection. Needless to say, it’s easy to dole out undeliverable threats of vicious ass-kickings to your opponents when you are protected by online anonymity and distanced by thousands of miles. True to his name, The Tough Guy passes out these threats like Halloween candy. The rest of us are left to hope that just once, one of these proposed confrontations actually come to fruition.

The Instant Quitter: Of the entire list, this individual is probably our favorite teammate. Sure, he quits the game instantly, leaving us desperately shorthanded and outgunned. Compared to the alternatives though, we are actually relieved when we wind up only with desertion from our new teammate.