Category Archives: Sports
Two non-gay men in the suburbs of Boston didn’t watch the Superbowl. When reached via satellite phone by ESPN’s Rio office, Bob Stockwell said, “We went for a walk.” Authorities in America have been alerted, and the men will be rounded up for examination by psychiatrists. NEN has learned that ESPN found out about the men through its worldwide surveillance network, which monitors cable subscribers (wherever you see a little red light flicker, it has taken your x-ray.) The network has supercomputers in Rio, London, and 600 feet beneath Disneyland, funding provided by Coca-Cola and the fast food chains of PepsiCo (additional funding provided by Merck, Pfizer, and United Healthcare.) When asked if they didn’t realize that walking on deserted streets during the Superbowl was also a criminal act indicative of Anti-American sentiment, and punishable by waterboarding, Leonard Meade said, “No, are you thinking of deporting us? If so, we’ll be happy to show up at any of the top twenty airports, where we’ll sign anything you wish.” ESPN is considering asking for that, depending on what the strip-searches and other examinations turn up. Unknown to them, however, the men meant the top twenty airports in the world, not just in the U.S.. Of the World’s 20 Best Airports, not one is in the United States. Number one is South Korea, a country with a booming economy because the U.S. pays their defense bill. Number two is Shanghai, then Hong Kong, Amsterdam, and Beijing. Etc. Meanwhile, the U.S. needs to spend trillions to repair degrading infrastructure, but only seem to find money from taxpayers to build new stadiums. In related news, astronomer Frank Abagnale has released this statement, “Keep things in perspective, people. One mountain-sized rock among zillions casually straying into our path unnoticed, and it’s lights out for the human race. This puts the ‘glory’ of the greatest athlete or politician or movie star or prima donna on the same level as the lowest clerk sorting Washington’s swizzle sticks in China. And if your trust is in God, I hate to say it but He doesn’t watch Sports Central, either. You need to step back about 1500 light years to a star called Deneb, at the apex of Cygnus. Sports transmissions won’t start reaching it for another 1400 years, and yet it is within our own galaxy, which, by the way, is one of billions. Deneb doesn’t stand out too much because there are stars which look brighter only because they are closer. But the closer you got to Deneb the more impressed you would be. Come within a hundred million miles of Deneb and your spaceship would not survive, much less your ball team, even with the heaviest shielding NASA and Sports Illustrated could devise. How bright is it? Okay, sports fans. You love comparing things, and keeping scores about ‘star performers.’ Let’s give our Sun a score of 1 and Deneb a score of 200,000. That’s right. It is 200,000 times as bright as our Sun, a blue white supergiant that puts out 100,000 times the Sun’s energy. It has 20 times the mass, and 200 times the radius. And it is by no means the brightest star in the galaxy. If you want to stray to a nearby dwarf galaxy, the Large Magellanic Cloud, you would find R136a1. The score? Against our Sun’s ’1′ R136a1 has clocked a score of…wait for it… ’8,700,000.’ And you were worried about some comment made about Beyonce’s lip-syncing?”
…and so, boys and girls, that’s how Al Gore’s appearance at the Superbowl was nixed by special interest lobbies currently decimating the environment in order to sell us more junk…by going on Al Jazeera with a call for carbon standards and accepting money on behalf of Earth from the Saudis, he was vilified by those companies in America who don’t care about anything except their quarterly profits…
Superbowl Sunday holds a big surprise at halftime as Al Gore steps to the stage and delivers a rap rendition of global warming science, backed up by Stephen Hawking in an solar powered wheelchair. Hawking’s digital accompaniment will be electronically enhanced with a pre-recorded musical track supplied by Lady Gaga and Beyonce (who quit over lip-syncing controversy.) Partial lyrics to the song have been obtained by Not Entertainment News, and appear below. After the song, Al will read a chapter from his new book THE FUTURE, which describes what will happen if NASCAR fans continue to get their way. The NFL, Coke and Pepsico have agreed to this unprecedented change of venue as their sole contribution to the environment for 2013…saving polar bears being disingenuous due to unprecedented ice melt. (Soon sand dunes in the Sahara will be freezing cold at midday, while in a million years Antarctica will return to Jurassic forestation long after homo sapiens are extinct. . . and New Orleans is the new Atlantis while Miami is a flooded graveyard of fading art deco.) In return for his appearance, Gore has agreed to appear in a GoDaddy ad and a fast food commercial for Chipotle Mexican Grill (grass fed beef) while driving a Hyundai Sonata Hybrid in Skechers tennis shoes.
Not to be outdone by already bankrupt Greeks and Italians or rinky dink Asian countries like China or Korea (or Australia or Germany or Brazil), our Home Team has taken their monopoly on sports stadium building to the next level. The Gladiator Dome, as part of the MIA (ie. Made in America) League, has been completed with only 40% taxpayer funding. We go now to League president Willard Webber for the details…
NEN: “Greetings, Willie! You must be very proud.”
WW: “Oh yes, Ryback. We’re out to defeat the Visitors where it really counts, symbolically.”
NEN: “Will there be football or soccer played here?”
WW: “Oh no, there’s no balls involved, unless you mean symbolic ones. Heads will roll here. The original balls that the Romans and Mayans played with to appease their gods.”
NEN: “How can you get away with that?”
WW: “Like I said, this is the next level of sport. One step forward, two steps backward in time. Our governor here in Nome is a Hunger Games style hunter herself, and owns many medieval weapons, including several instruments of torture and execution. We don’t call her the iron Maiden for nothing!”
NEN: “No, I mean how did this pass the House and Senate?”
WW: “A deal was made with lawmakers on a golf course in Florida involving oil fields here. All we said was ‘Just Do It!’ And, of course, no one else noticed because there was shopping to do, playoffs to watch, and that Fiscal Cliff thingee.”
NEN: “What about 60 Minutes? How did you keep them away? Didn’t they do a piece on bloody cage fighting not long ago?”
WW: “If you’ll recall, they didn’t condemn it. They talked about its success, mostly. Well, we hope to be successful too. And 60 Minutes has moved on to talking about American Idol winners, while PBS is doing shows like one last night on diners serving comfort foods across America, in direct competition to Diners, Drive-in, and Dives on the Food Porn Network. Give the people what they want, kiddo!”
NEN: “I can’t believe this. . .what do they want, more violence in the streets?”
WW: “No, no, no. Not in the streets. In the ring, in the arena. Where they get to bet on it, with no visible risk to themselves. Where they can feel the thrill of victory and the agonies of the defeated as they sit in Corinthian leather seats being fed anything but grapes.”
NEN: “Will there be the thumbs up, thumbs down like in ancient Rome before it fell?”
WW: “Hey, that’s an idea! I’ll bring it up, next Senate meeting, thanks.”
NEN: “i can’t believe this. Who runs your concession stands? Other than Coke and Pepsi, of course.”
WW: “Toby Keith’s Bar & Grill. Besides the Fried Bologna sandwiches served by simulated hookers in red, white, and blue bikinis, there’s the American Soldier, their classic salute to George W. Bush of pure feed-lot raised beef and highly saturated fat American cheese badness. Pour some high fructose corn syrup ketchup on it, and a yellow condiment, add a deep fried pickle and a glass of fizzing diabetes water, and you’re bound to have a great life!”
NEN: “Please repeat what you just said. That didn’t sound right.”
WW: “Okay. Take two. Toby Keith’s Bar & Grill. Besides the Fried Bologna sandwiches served by babes in red, white, and blue bikinis, there’s the American Soldier, their classic salute to freedom, with 100% all beef and American cheese goodness. Pour some Hunts on it, along with mustard, add a pickle and a glass of Coke, and you’re guaranteed a happy day!”
NEN: “That sounds Right. One final question. How are you going to reach your fan base in the lower forty-eight?”
WW: “How about a new airport and a new road project running next to the new pipeline? High speed rail is coming too.”
NEN: “Who’s building that?”
WW: “The Chinese.”
NEN: “And the financing for it?”
WW: “Earmarks added to a defense budget bill.”
NEN: “Why are you telling me all this?”
WW: “Why not? 50% of the people who read your report won’t believe it, and the other 50% won’t care.”
NEN: “What about 100% of the reporters from the New York Times and the Washington Post?”
WW: “We gave 50% of them season tickets, and the other 50% are now being trained by Russell Crowe…after being fed by Toby Keith.”
A statue was erected honoring a soccer player who head-butted an opponent after a play, a police officer named Michael McClatchy was FIRED for giving Clemson coach Dabo Swinney a ticket for speeding in Pickens SC, and thirty-two Yankee stadium servers are suing the Yankees for keeping a 20% service charge for personalized wait service added to premium seating. . . one of the partners in the service company being GOLDMAN SACHS. ”Yawn,” said Entertainment Tonight. “We have more important stuff to cover, like who wore the same dress on Emmy night, and will they repeat it on Grammy night.” Now here’s another story unreported by ET: The mascot for the Seattle Supersonics is NOT WEARING A COSTUME. He’s actually a BIGFOOT. That’s right. A group of scouts camping in the north woods lured the beast into their SUV, named him Harry, and taught him etiquette and proper diction with the help of an acting coach who usually works part-time for the History Channel’s “UFO Hunters” and Animal Planet’s “Finding Bigfoot” (Note: Animal Planet, which was formerly about conservation and nature, switched to hunting Bigfoot and UFOs and Nessie when their ratings dropped after ET said “Yawn” and switched to covering Lindsay’s mom’s dental work.) The Sonics are saying “Harry” is a man in a Wookie costume named Clarence Dubney, but NEN has been unable to track such a person down, although we did hear from several Sonic groupies who emerged from his dressing room, and report that when he came out of the shower Harry was still in his “birthday suit.”
Ryn Jacobs supposedly played short stop for the Yankees in 1948. He was a one season player who once hit a ball so hard it disintegrated in flight. . . not just ripping the cover off, but turning it to dust. (Every other time Ryn hit the ball he never made it to first base.) THE LEGEND OF RYN had been optioned by Fox for a feature film, centering on the controversy that day about whether a flake of dust on the glove of the pitcher constituted an Out or not. The History Channel also planned a special science docudrama on the event to replace a rerun about a swamp monster inhabiting Duck Dynasty’s man-made mud hole. And it all started when a screenwriter named R. Solomon fabricated a fake baseball card, using old stock and vintage ink sufficient to fool The History Detectives. He then pitched the film to studio executives, giving them the card, which was in a display album next to an authentic Mickey Mantle card. The ruse fell apart when a Yankees fan named Howard Ziffle, working at the Fox mailroom during casting for the movie, declared that no one named Ryn Jacobs ever played for the Yankees. Studio heads had R. Solomon arrested on the spot. When asked why they believed a mailroom clerk, even though Solomon had a flawlessly forged baseball card authenticated by Antiques Road Show to boot, (not to mention a History Channel film already in progress featuring J.J. Abrams as director), studio chief Bernie Wolfe replied, “You don’t know Ziffle.” Apparently, although Howard Ziffle can’t get out of the mailroom because he has no marketable skills, no one disputes his baseball expertise. “He can tell you who was traded for who, and for how much, going back to Prohibition. Not only does he know the shoe size of every player in Yankee history, but he can tell you what their lockers contained during any given season. I’m talking about a fan so obsessed that his incense candles are shaped like bats, which he dipped and shaped himself, adding the scent of catcher glove leather. Too bad he’ll be working at McDonalds next week. We’re automating our mail room, and I hear his expertise doesn’t translate into anything but flipping burgers, being nothing unusual among rabid fans.” Fox is going ahead with the movie, as is The History Detectives. As for R. Solomon, he will be replaced by in-house screenwriters related to the studio heads, even as he spins tales in the Big House and (no doubt) tries to craft a gun out of soap.
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Bonus Material: On Mice and Men
Three mice were lost in a maze. The first said to the second, “Since our purpose in life is to find as much cheese as possible, and there’s no cheese right here, we must go in search of new cheese instead of waiting for it. We must change and adapt to conditions or we will die.”
The second mouse agreed, but then said to the first, “I wonder if there is more to life than cheese, though. I want to discover who is providing this cheese, and why. Furthermore, I believe I can escape the maze by realizing it’s an illusion, and creating my own rules and reality. My own game.”
Suddenly Mouse Three did an astonishing thing. It stared straight up for the first time, and then shouted to the other two, “Look!”
The other mice looked to the left and to the right, back and forth, inquiring “Where?”
”Up!” insisted Mouse Three.
”Up?” the other two asked in unison. Still caught on the plane of two dimensional thinking, they whirled around again and again, going in circles like lemmings about to dart off and over a cliff they couldn’t detect.
Mouse Three, realizing their dilemma, scampered over to each of them and—in turn—put his head under theirs to tilt their gaze upward toward the parallel universe of three dimensions just above them all. “See?”
They saw a huge creature with a massive head. Large blue eyes peered down at them. A giant hand gripped a thin, flat piece of wood. Another hand held a long, thin tube which it used to scratch along the top of the flat piece. In a flash of insight, Mouse Two said, “It’s making notes.”
”It?” said Mouse One, amazed. “Notes?”
”God,” said Mouse Three, “is taking notes about us.”
At this statement, a mouse wearing a white lab coat appeared, carrying four golden books. Pages were turned in one of them as the other three mice waited, jaws slack. At last Mouse Four spoke. “This is the program,” it declared. “The rule book. The Bible. Up to now you have followed its precepts within the narrow parameters of its allowable free will. But since you’ve now discovered the Truth behind your programming, and witnessed another dimension of meaning behind your world, the controllers must reprogram you and place you in different mazes with other mice. You will remember nothing, not even your own first name. Have you anything to say about this?” Mouse Four waited. There was no response, only astonishment. “I didn’t think so. In fact, when it was my turn, I didn’t think at all.”
Suddenly three other lab coats dropped out of the third dimension above, and landed at their feet. Mouse Four gave each of them a copy of the Bible. “What’s happening?” Mouse Three asked.
”You are being promoted,” Mouse Four replied. “You are leaving this world and going to the next. There you will do God’s bidding by studying and enabling the actions of others.”
”For what purpose?” asked Mouse Two.
”You cannot ask such a question,” Mouse Four responded.
”But I just did.”
”Me too,” said Mouse Three. Mouse One only looked confused.
”Okay, then,” Mouse Four whispered. “I don’t know what it means, but there’s a word for it.”
”A word for what?” asked Mouse Two.
”For the meaning of all this!” Mouse Four whispered hotly, trying not to move his lips. “God’s word.”
”Which is?” asked Mouse Three.
”Shhhhh,” said Mouse Four. “He’s watching! Now put on your coats, and start reading your Bible.”
Mouse Three watched as the other two donned their white garments. He looked down at the cover of the book he held, which read TV Guide. “What’s your last name?” he asked Mouse Four.
”Same as yours,” Mouse Four replied, glancing up with a hopeful smile into heaven. “Nielsen.”