Archive for the ‘The Tuesday Countdown’ Category

The Count was always lovable …

. . . even when he and his sister (left) were babies.

The Count believes hate is such a strong word. The Count doesn’t hate. He mocks, he clowns and he occasionally dislikes. But he certainly doesn’t hate. There was that one full moon when The Count was strolling through a bad neighborhood and he needed a quick fix. So he bit some lady as she was leaving the Quik Trip, and she claimed to be European, but The Count was pretty sure she was from Secaucus because he just remembers this dreadful aftertaste and pronouncing, “I would not wash the feet of my pigs in your plasma!” (Say it with an obnoxious French accent, s0unds better.) Anyway, back to this hate thing. A lot of people seem to hate LeBron James. So The Count was thinking, “Hey, how ab0ut the first ever Count Poll?” Sharpen your cuspids. We count down . . .

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10. So many choices, but here’s a worthy “Sweet 16″

Continue reading Countdown: Vote LeBron, someone else in Count’s hate poll! »

Look ma: No car deal.

It never ceases to amaze The Count how some people will defend their morally bankrupt heroes to the end, even when it’s clear their morally bankrupt heroes are dirty, rotten cheaters. This happens all the time. Ohio State fans ignore evidence that Jim Tressel is a dirty, rotten cheater by saying he did wonderful charity work. I’m not sure, but didn’t Al Capone also do wonderful charity work? And to the first person who screams, “He compared Jim Tressel to Al Capone!” — you have no friends, and there’s a cleanup on aisle six. But about this Tressel thing: When are people going to let go? We count down . . .

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10. Since when do fired coaches guarantee victories?

It's nice to know some folks are keeping things in perspective. (AP photo)

It just keeps getting worse. Ohio State released phone records that show, among other things, Tressel exchanged 77 phone calls and text messages with Terrelle Pryor’s hometown mentor, Ted Sarniak, on April 10 after a former …

Continue reading Countdown: Tressel’s fans, Tebow’s eyes, Frenchy’s shorts »

The Count must now acnowledge . . .

Every family has its skeletons, and it’s with that as a backdrop that The Count begins today’s blog with this confession: He has an evil twin brother whom he seldom talks about. His name is Gary. The Count loves numbers, as you know. He learned his times tables the old fashioned way in school. But not Gary. Sure, he promised his parents and teachers he would study and do things the right way. But he took shortcuts and stole test papers from his friends and then sold them on the black market in far away foreign

. . . his evil twin brother Gary.

lands, like Winnipeg. Of course, nobody saw it coming. Gary is skilled in that way. Eventually he was kicked out of school and the family cave. But he didn’t care because by then he had made $60 million for math test relocations in Canada. The Count had hoped to never speak of Gary again. But unfortunately, then the photo on the left showed up on the Internet and he had to come clean. Everybody would …

Continue reading Countdown: Bettman, Spirit on Facebook and Monta’s tattoo »

This outfit is not golf course appropriate.

The Count never was much into golf as a youth. Didn’t like the clothes or the country club atmosphere and one time after spending all day at the driving range when he showed up on a young lass’s doorstep on the night of a full moon, he tried to hypnotize his victim with his mesmerizing gaze, just like his great uncle Count Dracula taught him, and the girl just started laughing and said, “You’re going to bite me in an Ashworth polo? Seriously?” Then she slammed the door and he slinked away.

But The Count was ready to come to the aid of former Braves pitcher John Smoltz, who played in last week’s Nationwide event in Valdosta. Smoltz needed a caddy. He opted to hire some young, punk kid who, like, you know, golfs. Big mistake. We count down . . .

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10. When you’re at 27-over-171, you can’t go to bullpen

It started so well. Par, par, birdie. And then, oh, cover your eyes.

Smoltz somehow devalued the South Georgia Classic. He was 1-under …

Continue reading Countdown: Smoltz’s splat, Gators’ buzz, Newton to UFL! »

The winner of The Count Classic will get a black cape, not a green jacket.

The Count is back from Augusta, and he is happy to report he avoided getting arrested. Not the case last year. True story (which never made it into the pages or online at AJC Inc.). A year ago The Count did two Digi-Blogs from the Augusta National Golf Club and Penal Colony before the Masters started (which is allowed) and started taking pictures of Tiger Woods at the driving range for a blog on the day the tournament started (which apparently is not allowed). The Augusta Commandants have very specific rules about what you can do and what can get you thrown into timeout in their little toonamint. So fans aren’t allowed to take pictures once the Masters starts. Newspaper photographers are allowed to take pictures but the mutants like The Count who sometimes write and also take pictures apparently don’t qualify as a photographer. The reason for this is Augusta is stuck in 1957 and if you say “blog” in the …

Continue reading Countdown prison tales: Masters, Sterger — and Cowboy Monkeys! »

The Count isn't spooked by Uga. Or Blue.

When The Count and I came to contractual terms on another season, we had to insert a clause that stated: “No items about dogs.” Here’s why: Otherworldly creatures have a thing about dogs. It’s true. I used to do the Ouija board a lot as a kid, I think because I was trying to look for another planet or another dimension or something in the space-time continuum that was more conducive to, well, me. But every time the family dog ran into the room, the spirit left the building. The spook was spooked. I think I asked a spirit about it once and he spelled out something about dogs being soul-less. Or maybe it was the flatulence. I forgot. Anyway, The Count and I agreed to the clause with one notable exception: All items relating to Uga were allowed. Which is why we are here this week. Until the next Uga comes along, we have a surrogate for all Bulldogs fans. Or is this a concern? We count down . . .

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10. While Georgia waits for Uga, a new …

Continue reading Countdown: Surrogate Uga, Serena (wowsa), pom-pom mom »

The Count has been in hibernation.

After several weeks off for dental surgery and a bloodletting at the last NFL owners convention, the Count is returning this week.

These old fangs just ain’t what they used to be. Bit into a hard pretzel after seven green beers on St. Patrick’s Day, or maybe it was the mug. That would explain it. Postponed plans to bring The Countdown out of its offseason coma last week.

Head still hurt. Still seeing things. Could have sworn I heard the words Jerry Glanville and employed in the same sentence again.  Not possible. Is it?

We count down . . .

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10. What happens when you try to mix patriotism and a drinking holiday?

Hard to imagine how this could go wrong. (AP photo)

OK, about Jerry Glanville. He did not sing the national anthem at a spring training game the other day. But a leprechaun did. An angry leprechaun. True story: The Dodgers — who used to be about things like scouting and winning and baseball tradition and now just do stupid stuff — …

Continue reading Countdown: Glanville, FSU meanies and singing leprechaun »

The Count didn't mind showing some leg.

The Count never had a problem when the whole “sex sells” thing hit sports. Shirley “Cha Cha” Muldowney was one his earliest crushes. Then came Dororthy Hamill. Then Jan Stephenson, because really, when you get right down to it, what’s hotter than a girl talking about a manifold, or a flying camel, or a 5-iron off the pine tree? And I realize by now you’re all wondering: Does every one of the Count’s dream girls date back to the Dust Bowl? Well, yeah. Especially now. The epitome of the “sex sells” sports tours just folded. I mean, if hot, sweaty girls in bikinis on the beach can’t sell, what possible chance does the WNBA have? We count down . . .

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10. Bye bye to the AVP (that’s volleyball) and their dancers

Maybe it was the name. The Association of Volleyball Professionals just didn’t work, but I guess AVP figured “Hot Babes in Bikinis” was too obvious. The league just folded. It didn’t really have teams, as in cities, but the tour …

Continue reading Down for the Count: Bikini-ball, everything Petrino touches and ‘Real Housewife of Flowery Branch’ »

The Count is 100 percent natural.

The Count has never understood the whole blood doping thing. OK, there was that one time after he pulled an all-nighter, and the Transylvania Huddle House was closed in the morning, and he required immediate nourishment, so he swooped in on a group of unsuspecting 11th graders on their way to summer school for their third attempt at passing algebra. Does that count as doping? Probably not. But the whole idea of taking something more powerful than a Flintstones chewable or a protein shake never appealed to The Count, especially given the potential of a 37-pound globey head and significant shrinkage in the Count’s, um, Southeast and Southwest divisions. Anyway, great news! This baseball season has been the “Revenge of the [Presumably Natural] Pitcher!” We just witnessed baseball’s fifth no-hitter of the season. Maybe because every batter doesn’t look like the off-spring of a barbell and a Wookie. So we congratulate Tampa Bay pitcher Matt Garza …

Continue reading Countdown’s health report: A-Roid, hot dog stands, mite fight! »

The Count loved his Schwinn "Stingray."

The Count went bike riding the other day with The Countess. He doesn’t like to brag, but let’s just say if they were handing out yellow jerseys, well, you know.

Notwithstanding the 94-degree temperatures and 98-percent humidity and the stretch of the green-way that happened to run right through a flood zone that led to water going up to The Count’s knees (while The Countess hovered about 50 yards behind and laughed because that’s what heartless and unfunny souls do in the underworld), it was enjoyable.

Even if at times, it may have looked something like this . . .
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Anyway, this seemed like a good week to take a look at something suddenly of interest to the sports world: The Tour de Frenchy! Why? Because we’ve just come to learn that apparently you’re NOT SUPPOSED TO TRY TO WIN the race, even if somebody falls! It’s just not sportsmanlike. You know, I really love it when I don’t have to make this stuff up. We count down . . .

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10. …

Continue reading Countdown: Fighting cyclists! Biting harness riders! Brooklyn! »