Topless Raiderette Themed Flying Cocktail Tramps Included
So the Raiders inked a deal with a Malaysian airline to give us this potential Kama Sutra gem…
"Welcome to AsiaAir...Coffee, tea, Raider rub n' tug?"
OK… maybe I’m just hopeful that our Malaysian counterparts will stock this badboy with asian Raider girls instead of frumpy stweardesses. Since AsiaAir does not fly in the United States, this is obviously a global branding strategy… or an airborne franchisee of Al Davis’s “Hands of Asia” massage parlor chain.
Easy ladies, this Silver & Black love missile only flies Asian skies
Might these Raider Girls of the Orient eschew the standard “want yoshi to walk on your back” asian massage fare, and instead tantalize passengers with strategically placed silver pom-pons and powdered tiger penis? Only time will tell how friendly the Malaysian skies will truly be.
NHL Hockey in America… the best sex in a cup that you’ll never hear about.
No doo-doo for Lemieux in the Stanley Cup
Any sport still playing for a trophy purchased for the sum of ten Guineas rocks in my book!
I freely admit that I am a sucker for traditions and authenticity, but since I’m a good 20 years shy (or about the time Tiger Jr. wins his 4th Green Jacket) of embracing flog at St. Andrews as the third head on my Cerberus of sport, I seek you HockeyPhreak37@oldschoolpuckhead.com…
Explain to me to the lore, the history… and why us Americanskis are not basking in the warm post-coital glow of yet another amazing Stanley Cup run? Why we didn’t watch in awe as NKOTB’s Crosby and Ovechkin dropped same game hat tricks (cue flying octopi… love it) , or revel in the furious waning moments of the Pens miracle season?
Watching 4 games of this years cup run, including a rapturous game 7, I was starting to feel it. Puck fever baby… and the wonder of a game 7 anything. Absent was the horde of local ”big game groupies.” Invisible during the regular season, these buddies are staples of the “big game” and show up for any World Series, NBA Finals, etc. with a 7-layer dip, a jersey and claims to years of <insert_sport_here> allegiance. Typical game seven scene and crew, Beers Brats and the Barry Melrose mullet? In a word… Nyet.
What’s not to like about Hockey?
Pro hockey is wonderfully devoid of the corporate poison coursing through the veins of the NFL, MLB, and NBA. The “Poulan Weed Eater Stanley Cup” would never see the light of day in the NHL. The NHL is also ripe with enviable and longstanding traditions… the victors drinking Champagne from the Cup, the handshake, growing playoff beards, and flinging ocotopi in Detroit
Don’t call me Francis… If Zisky were to “rate the Russians” of the NHL, guys like Ovechkin, Fedorov, and Bure… I don’t think he’d be calling them pussies.The NHL remains a bastion of true tough guys, especially contrasted with todays Axe body spray wearing metrsosexual assclowns… Philo Beddoes and Rocky Balboas who slap wrist shots while balancing on blades of steel. [youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LrllCZw8jiM[/youtube]
Long live the Stanley Cup…
As a diehard fan of the greatest game on earth, NFL football (aplogies to PeleIsJesus@ManU.com) the traditionalist in me would gladly trade the relatively benign Lombardi, for the cult status of the storied and perpetual Stanley. Since each player gets to take the Stanley home for a day, sordid tabloid worthy beer pong and “Stanley Cup as a sex bench” tales have circulated freely.
-Editors note: Players feeding their dogs and baptizing their children with the cup are indeed true, but reports that Claude Lemieux pulled a Najeh Davenport Dookie in the Cup (on the Letterman show no less) appear to be greatly exaggerated.-
Jeff Reed is a douche
Not to mention that guys playing for the right to drink champagne out of a singular cup, beats the snot out of those godawful “guido the killer pimp” power rings given to an NFL champion. Do you really think Jeff Reed (Steelers Kicker) rocks the house with his 32-pound jewel-encrusted bling; can you imagine Gretzky sporting a rock that would make Mr. T smile… or Tie Domi?
Light at the end of the dark months in sport?
Forever I shall worship at the altar of pigskin, but I desperately seek something to rabidly root for once the Lombardi has been awarded and the sporting landscape has been reduced to Bud Selig’s boys and the post Michael Jordan NBA. Halfway home… the NHL already fulfills my basic sporting needs of passion, authenticity, toughness, and tradition.
Dear NHL: Though you did not have me at hello, I am yours for the taking… a simple ”call me, tradition is found here” whisper in my ear should suffice. After yet another brief fling this postseason, I ask you to flaunt your history to me like a mini-skirt wearing hooker working the bar after last call. Do me right, and I may even want to call you the next day.
Everything in life I Needed to Know, I learned from the Bad News Bears
…ahhhhhhhhh, memories of simpler times for a kid with a late 60′s birthdate. These 2 movies (Bad News Bears Japan was an abomination) actually gave kids credit for their complexities, long before todays PC police forced fake sentimentality and “gee wiz they won the championship” whitewashed Mighty Duck turds down our throats. If Raidergirls were a little league team (perish the thought) we’d be the Bears… asking Chico to bail out our beer swillin’ coach.
When faith in humanity is lost there is always solace to be found in the Bears… and if it’s a ”make it a double bartender” day for brotherhood, “The Sandlot” ( ”Stand By Me” on a baseball diamond… or morphed with “300″ in this silly but well synced vid) also stands at the ready. No amount of self pity or woe for modern fellow man can withstand the double dosage of a “Booger Eatin’ spazz” and ”You’re killing me Smalls.”
“Golly Violet, grab Little Giants, these Bears curse and chase women”
Goosebumps immediately follow the first “let them play” chant from the absentee dad of rebellious Marlboro toking ballhog Kelly Leak. Then comes the Bad News Bears theme music as second base chucking Tanner Boyle continues to elude floundering security guards. I need a tissue…
- Tanners Tirade… ”Jews, Spics, Niggers and a Wop that throws airballs” would get you killed in todays PC world.
- Don’t jump in Engelberg. You’ll flood the valley… catching a break of epic proportions, the real Engleberg (or “Englepuke”) the lovable lug playing the stereotypical fatassed catcher, missed the atrociously bad Bad New Bears in Japan movie… due to losing to his rotundness, and Paramounts unwillingness to write it into the script.
“…it’s a substantial bucking of the trend toward ever more chubby, surly and inert children“
- “virtual” Yosemite sucks balls… unlike todays portly ps2 generation, kids raised in the Bad News Bears era were EXPECTED to be playing something outside until dark.
Engleberg drops extra crispy kids off at the pool
- win some lose some… ”Original” Engleberg also missed out on the cultural phenonema that was Breaking Training… and of course being forever remembered as the dude with a bucket of KFC covering his junk… while talking a dump.
Tanner Boyle stands defiantly at the Astrodome
- He who would sacrifice liberty for security, deserves neither… One listen to “life is looking good” which played as the Bears took their “borrowed” van on an epic roadie to Houston, spurs those circa 70′s era feelings of hope & freedom… that seem fewer and farther between in our post 9/11 world.
- Da Bears… stayed at the Houston Hilton in Breaking Training. They stayed in Rooms 324 and 325, and could see the Astrodome from room 325.
- Road Trip Mandate… The original movie and some scenes from the second movie were filmed at Mason Park in Chatsworth, CA. The park is still there on Mason Ave. just north of Devonshire. The ballfield has been completely redone and there is nothing to indicate there was ever a movie filmed there.
What a Wonderful World indeed Mr. Armstrong
- Road Trip part deux… the bell-bottom wearing hitchhiker from Breaking Training plays a close second (to Phoebe Cates scorching the earth in that red bikini from the Phoebe Cates Fast Times at Ridgemont High Red bikini pool scene… another tissue please) in movie hottie moments that stand the test of time.
- Courtesy of the real Rudi Stein… “We had the Astrodome to ourselves for a full week. Between scenes we would explore the tunnels and backrooms of the place. It was pretty amazing. We actually put an ad in the paper for extras when we needed large crowd shots. As I recall, we needed about 1,000 extras one day and had 3,000 people show up. When we started turning people away, there was a mini-riot outside that require police intervention.”
- Sign O’ the times… The remake with Billy Bob Thornton (not watched by me for reasons of tradition) got a scathing review from Movie-Mom.
”The Bad News Bears was instrumental in turning a formerly docile population of pint-sized fielders into a foul-mouthed field of anarchists.”
- …and more from a peculiarly astute suck.com … ”For a nation of Timmy Lupuses, accustomed to seeing the pains of adolescence portrayed on the big screen while the misery of pre-adolescence gets ignored, the thrill came in seeing their own lives up on the screen.”
- Meant to be funny… Miguel and Jose’s, “four dollars…for both of us“ actually got me to ask for LESS allowance from my parents.
- and Buttermaker talked Ahmad down from the tree…Roger Ebert calls the movie “disturbing” in his review (racial epithets, drunken coach, 12-year olds swearing, etc.) but also duly notes that ”The members include a black, a couple of Mexicans, various other minority group members and, eventually, a girl.”
3 Life Lessons learned from the Bad News Bears…
1. sport sees no prejudice… aka welcome Ahmad, Miguel & Jose, Amanda, etc. to the North Valley Little League. Sports is a place where how well you perform impartially measurable tasks truly outweighs the amount of pigment in your skin.
* …or whether a cup is mandatory protection. Cheers, Tatum.
2. sports is a great equalizer… Whether it be by greed or the intrinsic beauty of a ballteams singular focus on a seemingly improbable goal (e.g. yesterday’s Penguins Championship) the proverbial glass ceiling (think beyond just gender) is routinely smashed in sports… Amanda pitches, the WOP throws his airballs…
3. sport is one bastion of a true meritocracy in action… The scales of Sports justice tilt decidedly in favor of karma, which unlike political appointees… usually leads to the most qualified candidate getting the job.
* Meritocracy dillema: Kelly Leak races in from left to call off the Looper on a pop fly; as Kelly is clearly the best man for that job… right, wrong… you decide?
Where are these little rodents now?
With the exception of Chris “Tanner Boyle” Barnes who has become a recluse (go figure… the Napoleon Complex finally broke him, perhaps the trauma of the ketchup donnybrook???… may you live in rebellious peace Tanner Chris) they seem to be an all too normal slice of americana. Much as Jerry Mathers will always be the Beaver, I shall purge the “Tanner sold more copiers than Oglivie this month…” minutiae gleaned from the video above, and choose instead to respectfully remember them as Kids from the North Valley League in admittedly selfish perpetual bliss.
Kelly Leak contemplates all that is life
This grainy angst filled “Kelly Leak stares forlornly at the Astrodome” photo perfectly captures a moment in all of us, when we questioned authority, our role with our parents, a team of some sort counting on you… what to do…
To fellow late 70′s – early 80′s era sports obsessed youth… may your little Tanner Boyles also share in these life altering rite of passage movies.
