Category Archives: Sports

Adam and Adam

During the brief rain delay in Friday afternoon’s US Open tennis tournament coverage, I switched over and watched a bit of the Deutsche Bank golf tournament from Boston.

They were dealing with some weather issues of their own, and while the commentators discussed past winners, the name “Adam Scott”, the 2003 champion, jumped out at me.

Adam Scott…a professional golf player?  Adam Scott doesn’t play golf.  Adam Scott is an actor.  I knew him first as Henry in the exceptional Starz cater waiter comedy “Party Down,” but he made the leap to the NBC sitcom “Parks and Recreation” last season.

(Good decision on his part, too, because Starz canceled the comedy, the bums.)

So, I checked Wikipedia — ’cause if it’s there, it’s gospel — and sure enough, Adam Scott is a golfer from Australia.  It’s funny, though — when you look at the promotional pics of Adam Scott the golfer and Adam Scott the actor, it’s not immediately obvious which is which (unless you already know).

Take a look yourself.

See what I mean?

If you don’t know, there are some clues.  Adam Scott the golfer [on the left] has a killer tan and a bit more muscle definition — he works outside, so it stands to reason.  (No offense intended, Adam Scott the actor.  Chances are, you are much, much funnier.)

An interesting side note — Adam Scott the golfer is no stranger to the movie biz, either; he dated actor Kate Hudson back in the day.

Man — don’t you love sports??

The look

I’m attending the US Open tonight.  Maria Sharapova and Novak Djokovic are slated to play (not each other) on center court at Arthur Ashe stadium.

It’s always a thrill to watch the top seeds LIVE under the lights.

But if you’ve caught any of the tournament coverage to date, you may have noticed a bizarre preoccupation on behalf of the announcers.  Not on stats or seeds or rivalries or revenge.

This year, it’s all about ‘what you’re wearing.’

John and Patrick McEnroe have anointed themselves the unofficial Joan and Melissa Rivers of ESPN2.  They’ve been doling out fashion advice to male and female tennis players pretty much every match.

Nadia Petrova’s striped tennis dress was deemed ‘too loud; she really needs to seek out some help.’  They seemed to find her outfit a bigger problem than her defeat to Andrea Petkovic. I’ll admit — the stripes aren’t my favorite, either.  But going on and on about her outfit seemed a bit like rubbing salt in the womb after she lost in a three-set tiebreaker.

Rafa Nadal’s neon tennis shoes were ‘a risk, but a good one.’  They did match his outfit, which I thought was cool since there wasn’t a stitch of white on him.  But his match with Teymuraz Gabashvili of Russia was surprisingly competitive — I would have liked to have heard a bit more about this relative unknown.

Even in Andy Roddick’s late night upset by Janko Tipsarevic, there was as much talk about the many tats that Tipsarevic was ‘wearing’ as the lack of energy in Roddick’s game.

I know this is a change of pace for me.  Here I am asking for depth when shallowness is being offered.

But we’re talking John McEnroe here — the snarliest man in sports telling people how to dress and shape their image on the court.  Granted, both his look and personality have improved with age, but I don’t think anyone thinks of him as a style icon.

As we say in the country, ‘it’s hard to escape your raising.’

Fresh fish

Oh dear.

The Sticky Egg has discovered an unfortunate connection to the world of fishing.  As in, ‘sticky egg’ is the name of a fishing fly.

I found this during a Google search last night.  I was checking to see how easy it is to find my blog when you search the phrase ‘sticky egg’…and this fly came up in the first page of results.  (My blog was number two after a prank toy egg…so yes, I’m in good company.)

The name is appropriate, I suppose.  The fly is supposed to imitate fish roe, which trout, steel head and salmon apparently eat ‘with gusto.’

I’m not a big fan of fishing.  The idea of dragging a living creature through the water with a sharp, metal hook through its mouth seems pretty cruel.  I contend that people find it acceptable because fish are ugly.

Think about it.  If fish looked like puppies, would we really celebrate the practice?

But back to this fly.  I just want to make it clear:  The Sticky Egg does not condone nor endorse its use.  The name thing is pure coincidence.

No fish will ever be killed in the writing of this blog.

Just a brain cell or two.

Purge

The word of the day is…vomit.

Sorry.  I didn’t choose; it chose me.

Rory left a little gift in the living room during the night.  Apparently something didn’t agree with him….so he hurled.   He rarely vomits, and better out than in, I say.  (He’s fine now.)

This trend continued in the morning headlines, which were filled with — you guessed it — vomit.

Do you remember the New Jersey punk who intentionally puked on a man and his 11-year-old daughter in the stands at a Phillies game?   He was sentenced yesterday to 1-to-3 months in prison, and ordered to perform 50 hours of community service at Citizens Bank Park cleaning the bathrooms and emptying trash.

That should keep his fingers out of his mouth for a while.

And as if that weren’t enough vomit on a Saturday morning, another headline described Miss Australia’s national costume for the Miss Universe pageant in Las Vegas next month as ‘vomit-inducing.’

It’s a combination of high-heeled Uggs boots and a skin-laden bikini thing.  Judge for yourself.

By now, you’ve probably eaten.  So hopefully it won’t make you want to…ya know.

Happy Saturday!

Take the heat

Sometimes, you just need someone to blame.

And this week…that someone is LeBron James.

A guy in Michigan told the policeman who pulled him over for DUI that LeBron’s decision to go to the Miami Heat was the reason he was drunk.  No lie.

Of course, since he was drunk, he kinda got the facts wrong.  He thought LeBron was with the Boston Celtics — instead of the Cleveland Cavaliers — but it was still upsetting, so that was why he drank too much.

It was clearly LeBron’s fault.

Which got me to thinking — we can all milk this situation for a couple of more weeks.

I mean, LeBron milked his announcement — which should have taken all of 30 seconds — into an hour television special.  And the ESPY Awards were able to milk it yet again into a hilarious sketch on Wednesday night’s show.

Why shouldn’t we all blame LeBron for something this week?

Can’t pay your rent?  It’s LeBron’s fault.  Miss a work deadline?  LeBron made me do it.  Cheat on your wife?  Did you see what LeBron did?  I had to, man.

Use your brain.  Throw the blame.

It’s LeBron’s fault.

The envelope please…

Awards shows?  I’m a fan.

Even though the entertainment value is spotty at best, I still like to watch.  You never know when an overexcited, drunk celebrity is going to say or do something really embarrassing.

Television at its best!

Last night I added a new awards show to my annual must-see list  — the ESPYs, ESPN’s sports awards.  I’ve never watched them before because, well, they’ve never been hosted by Seth Meyers of SNL.  He was the draw.  I thought it would be a fun show.

And it was.  Ya know why?

The awards were almost an afterthought.  The show was all comedy and musical numbers.  When the ESPYs did focus on an award — like the Courage Award, for example — they did these amazing pieces of sports journalism that were beautifully written, photographed and edited.  You couldn’t look away.

It was an awards show, but first and foremost, it was entertainment.

And as an awards show junkie, I just want to say thank you.  And I hope the producers and directors of the Oscars, Emmys and Tonys were watching.  You could learn something.

Oh — and I’d like to highlight my favorite acceptance speech of the night…from the Best Breakthrough Athlete, Chris Johnson of Tennessee, who so clearly defined our priorities in the digital age:

“First of all, I want to thank God, most of all. Without Him it wouldn’t be possible. I want to thank all the fans who voted for me, I want to thank all my friends and family. I want to thank Ustream and I want to thank Twitter most of all. And if you got a Twitter, follow me at ChrisJohnson28.”

Long live the awards show!

Summer school

The Fourth of July was the official start of summer, and for some peeps, that means summer school.

Regis and Kelly are both going this week — for ratings, not grades — and are studying some really cool subjects: pizza-making, gymnastics, acting, bicycling, even how to be a ball boy at the U.S. Open tennis tournament.  (Heck, if they had offered stuff like that in summer school when I was a kid, I would have wanted to go.)

Which begs the question:  what kind of fun courses could I take this summer…if I wanted to go?

The Art of Walking” — Once I tell you this is offered at a college in Kentucky, you’ll be less surprised.

Maple Syrup: The Real Thing” — This Alfred University class teaches students how to make maple syrup.  (No prior experience is required)

“The Phallus” — Occidental College in Los Angeles offers this one.  Hope I get an A.

“Learning from YouTube” — Once I tell you this is offered at a college in California, you’ll be less surprised.

But seriously, here are a few that I would take:

“The Science of Harry Potter” — At Frostburg University in Maryland, you can see the science behind the movie magic.  (Insert spell here)

“Star Trek and Philosophy” – In this Georgetown University class, you watch Star Trek, read philosophy and talk about it. I’m guessing William Shatner will sit this one out.

Twilight: The Texts and the Fandom” — Brand new at Cambridge University, this course examines the saga’s impact on popular culture, even allowing people outside the class to participate online.

Hmmm.  Wonder which one I’ll take first…?

Falling Starz

Dear Major Network TV Exec’s:

Perhaps you’ve already begun your holiday weekend,  seated at centre court Wimbledon.  Or on a private island whose location you’ve only tweeted to the paparazzi.

Or maybe you’re one of the true working stiffs, stuck in a conference room, trying to resurrect your ratings.

I don’t really care where you are; I just care what you do.

Please save the brilliantly funny “Party Down”…’cause Starz is letting it die.

Executive VP of Programming Stephan Shelanski said Starz is ‘committed to aggressively expanding our original programming lineup’…but then they canceled their brand new suicide drama “Gravity,” too.

Sounds like what they really have is a commitment issue….or not enough money to back up their big plans.

Again, I don’t really care.

I just want “Party Down” to have a second chance…with a network that can afford to keep it on the air.  It’s a far better show than a lot of the shlock that’s out there now — we’re talking absurdly funny, with guest stars used in truly creative ways.

So, come on people — let’s work together and solve two problems at once.  Save “Party Down” and fill one of your slots with quality TV.

Okay?  Okay.

Now go out and play.  It’s a holiday, for cripes sake.

Bad boy

“Dancing with the Stars” may be on hiatus — and a dark, sad time it is — but mirror ball trophy winning pro Derek Hough is still making headlines,  this time for his moves off the dance floor.

I’m such a gossip.

And that’s exactly what this is.  Our Derek has gone and gotten himself involved in a celebrity marital scandal across the pond that mirrors the Tiger Woods fiasco.

Ashley Cole, a British soccer star, was caught cheating on his wife Cheryl when she discovered nasty text messages on his phone from the women he was sleeping with.  (Sound familiar?)  Apparently Cheryl is in a British pop group called Girls Aloud and appeared on the ‘The X Factor.’

Where does golden boy Derek figure in, you ask?

He and Cheryl danced together on a British Christmas special last year, and then he popped up again in the ‘Parachutes’ music video.  But his recent appearance outside Cheryl’s hotel room in Los Angeles in the middle of the night has everyone talking.  The photographers caught him, but he just smiled and hugged his puppy dog.

Derek, Derek, Derek.  Before you danced with and dated that evil Shannon Elizabeth a few years ago, you were a good boy.  Then the changes began.  You got snippy with the other dancers.  You whined to the voters.  She turned you into a…a...celebrity.

When the news broke that you two split, I thought you were cured. But it looks like some of the sickness remains…’cause now you’re bad.

Bad, bad, bad.

Caved

Lazy Sunday morning.  Rory on the couch.  French Open Men’s Final on the tube.

Awesomeness.

I can’t help but flash forward to this year’s US Open on Labor Day weekend in New York City.  I haven’t missed the annual tennis tourney since I moved to Manhattan four years ago.

It’s always an amazing experience, but this year’s is gonna be special.  Because this year I’m attending the big event…as a member.

Not of the USTA.  (I joined a while back so I could buy tickets early.)  Nope, I finally caved and got an American Express card.  Because membership has its privileges…especially at the US Open.

For the past four years, I have walked past all the booths and kiosks with their special “For AE Card members only” signs.  Feeling left out.  Feeling…less.  Heck, one year I even used my friend Beth’s card information so I could get the special “For AE Card members only” radio headset to listen to the play-by-play during the matches.

Not this year.

I’m one of them now.  One of the uppity-ups.  Getting all the special drinks, special seats and special treatment.

But don’t worry.  I’ll be back with the little people at tourney’s end.