TiricoSuave.com posted this a while ago. But seeing as Eddy “Kamala” Curry is not getting any thinner, coupled with the success of our Mike Tyson post and the fact that we laughed out loud when we saw this photo, we decided to share it with you. Check out TiricoSuave.com’s other amusing photos here.
Here are some more porkers. It wasn’t until just now that we realized our obsession with fat athletes.
Rumor has it that Abe — the self proclaimed “King of the Knuckleball” — is pursuing the Yanks for a multi-year deal. We hear he even sent a fruit basket that included a headshot to the Yankees front office. So much for subtlety, Abe.
What’s up with the face paint?
According to sources that know Mr. Schwartz, painting his face like a baseball helps Abe hone his inner knuckler, which dances more erratic than the people in this video:
Oh man, the guy has a fan club?
Yup, it’s true. The buzz has already started out in Arizona. They love the whole gimmick, and fans are pushing for the Diamondbacks to get moving on drafting something that would lock up Abe and his noodle arm until at least the first game of the season. Well, that might not be completely true.
How much money should Abe be offered to play for New York?
Whoa… back up a minute. Nobody said anything about giving Schwartz any money. We were thinking he’d play for free rozin bags or pine tar. With a record of .5 wins and more than a million losses, paying him a penny would require change.
The Max was reading the The Sporting Blog when an article reminded us of something — it’s been a 20-year relationship between Jerry Sloan and the Utah Jazz. Put it this way: gas was well over four bucks a gallon last year at this time, so how much have Jerry Sloan and the world changed since he started coaching the Utah Jazz back in 1988? Let’s take a look…
From what we were told, it was such a cute scene watching Brooke Hogan challenge her dad, Hulk Hogan, for the title belt moments after emerging from the womb. She even cut her own umbilical chord and flexed. What a precious moment in 1988 history…
Plaxico Burress has been
everywhere lately – the TV, the newspapers, blogs, in my nightmares. And, actually, it’s not just lately, it’s
been all season. From Plax’s disregard for Giants’ team policy to
fines, suspension and finally popping a cap into his own thigh; well, we’ve
finally had enough of this guy. Granted, Burress’ bonehead moves provide
us with material on a weekly basis, but we just can’t take it any longer. The guy needs to go away.
We understand that Jared
used to be the size of a monster truck and has now shrunk to that of a Mini
Cooper. For downgrading from pants that could blanket a small village, we
commend him.
Dude, you’re insane on the court. No doubt about that. But Chuck Barkley’s right, you need to shut the hell up about your plans for 2010. Just keep scoring at will and do something we have never seen in a game like a 720 dunk from the three-point line, but please keep your yap shut about the future.
Many times, the gossip
focuses on the enormously popular and heavily political Triple H, husband to
WWE Princess Stephanie McMahon. Since inserting himself into the royal family
of pro wrestling in 2003, Mr. H has been criticized by dirt sheet “journalists” about the perks he receives from being married to WWE Chairman Vince McMahon’s
daughter.
She’s crazy.
She’s pregnant. She’s getting divorced. She’s pregnant again. She’s shaving her head! She looks loopy on stage performing one of her formulaic pop musical ditties at some lame awards show. She’s admitted to a problem. She’s finding her inner self. She’s releasing a new record. She needs more money!
Whether or not Brit is
locked up in the loony bin doesn’t stop us from watching sports, but she still needs to take a hike. We’re asking from the bottom of our black heart’s to please keep her off of our television sets unless it’s the replay of the “Baby One
More Time.”
Chad Johnson or Chad Ocho Cinco
Chad: Play football. Score
touchdowns. Do your dances. Win championships, then talk as much as you want. But
you’re a Bengal, and that’s in the cat family, which associates you
the Lions. That means no talking.
Shaq & Kobe
Shaq and Kobe don’t play on the same team anymore, and haven’t for a few years now. The bottom line is that the story is tired and the inability for the press to conjure up new material to draw readers back to their fledging magazines and newspapers highlights exactly why certain publications will be going the way of the banking and auto industries sooner rather than later.
Barry Bonds
Whether or not Bonds will join the ranks of baseball’s elite is yet to be determined, and if he does, then a whole new crop of arguments can surface (or the same ones repackaged). Now it’s up to the league and those who make those types of choices to decide, so hopefully the rest of us can move on and find someone else to devote our time too. Stories about Bonds are all old hat, and since that hat belongs to Bonds, it means the stories have been stretched very thin to keep pace with his ever-growing bulbous melon.
As you know, every Friday at The Max, we provide to you the most clever links we can find on the Internet. The hope is that we can pry you away from being productive at work. This week, however, we’re guessing you’re not at work… you know, ‘cuz of the whole Turkey Day thing. But that doesn’t mean we’re gonna take the day off, especially because we know that you may have the in-laws at your house. Use the below links as a way to waste time, rather than sitting at the kitchen table talking about how much you love watching the leaves change or the falling price of gas.
The Max 