Basketball's 15 Funniest Quotes

By: C.G. Morelli

If you’re like me, the game of basketball is a real stretch. Literally.

Bottom line, I’m a skinny white man of merely average height. To boot I’m Italian, which means you’re lucky if you can slide a piece of paper under my feet when I try to test the ups.

This time of year I usually find myself camped out in front of playoff football instead of wasting my time watching Inside Stuff on a Saturday afternoon. Actually, does that show still air? Wait a minute, Summer Sanders? Where’s my Ahmad Rashad? Just goes to show you where I stand on the NBA.

But then my Eagles went and got stomped by the Packers in the first round, and suddenly I needed something to keep me busy. That’s when I realized NBA stars are pretty darn entertaining. Actually, they can be down right hilarious at times. It made me think: don’t ballas say the darndest things? Folks, I present you with:

Basketball’s 15 Funniest Quotes

15. "In basketball, the first person to touch the ball shoots it. Either that, or the coach carefully diagrams a set play and then the first player to touch it shoots it." - Gene Klein

14. "Basketball is like war in that offensive weapons are developed first, and it always takes a while for the defense to catch up." - Red Auerbach

13. "The only difference between a good shot and a bad shot is if it goes in or not." - Charles Barkley

12. "We have a great bunch of outside shooters. Unfortunately, all our games are played indoors." - Weldon Drew

11."My sister's expecting a baby, and I don't know if I'm going to be an uncle or an aunt." - Chuck Nevitt

10. "Fans never fall asleep at our games, because they're afraid they might get hit by a pass." - George Raveling

9. "They say that nobody is perfect. Then they tell you practice makes perfect. I wish they'd make up their minds." - Wilt Chamberlain

8. "We're shooting 100 percent - 60 percent from the field and 40 percent from the free-throw line." - Norm Stewart

7. "I hate them with all the hate you can hate with. Can you hate more than that? If you can, I hate them more than that." - Tim Hardaway

6. "I knew I was dog meat. Luckily, I'm the high-priced dog meat that everybody wants. I'm the good-quality dog meat. I'm the Alpo of the NBA." - Shaquille O'Neal

5. "Left hand, right hand, it doesn't matter. I'm amphibious." -Charles Shackleford

4. "If the NBA were on channel 5 and a bunch of frogs making love were on channel 4, I'd watch the frogs, even if they were coming in fuzzy" - Bobby Knight

3. "I haven’t been able to slam-dunk the basketball for the past five years. Or, for the thirty-eight years before that, either." - Dave Barry

2. "Kids are great. That's one of the best things about our business, all the kids you get to meet. It's a shame they have to grow up to be regular people and come to the games and call you names." - Charles Barkley

1. "Basketball is the second most exciting indoor sport, and the other one shouldn't have spectators." - Dick Vertlieb

Dear Eagles Front Office....Remember When?

The inevitable canning of Eagles' defensive coordinator, Sean McDermott, has made me somewhat reflective on the state of my team's defense over the past few seasons post Jim Johnson. With two seasons of McDermott-ball under the belt and a high powered offense to support each time, we still get the same result: a first round playoff stomping.  

Don't get me wrong, the firing needed to happen. My problem is it's just too easy to place all the blame on Mr. McDermott. True, his scheme did not effectively adapt the players he had under contract to the old scheme used by the legendary Jim. True, his youth probably didn't win him too much respect from his equally youthful players. True, the stats usually don't lie (especially the worst red zone defense in football). But if there was one thing this defensive unit truly lacked over the past two seasons it was on-field leadership: the kind us fans in Philly have come to take for granted. Don't forget, we had good old number 20 standing back there for us for more than a decade.

  

And that's when it hit me. This defense truly started to crumble once we saw the official departure of Brian Dawkins. His skills may have been eroding at the time of his release, but as we all know he was much more important to the team than simple physical skills. That brought me back down memory lane to an enraged letter I wrote to the Eagles front office way back when. Enjoy the memories and pray we find ourselves some kind of defensive leader in the off season.

Eagles Front Office: Read This

Dear Philadelphia Eagles Front Office,

I write to you on behalf of native Philadelphians across this great nation who, with one prick of the skin, could produce a few drops of genuine green blood. As you must know by now, the citizens of your fair city have been riding the rollercoaster that is Eagles football since the team’s inception in 1932. They’ve danced in the glory of the triumphs and wallowed in the despair of many punishing defeats. They’ve faced disappointment so many times it’s become somewhat of a profession. They’ve cemented a name in sports history as the city who over-criticizes its heroes. 

But you and I both know they only do this because they care. They care about community pride. They care about toughness and tenacity. They care about rising from the ashes time after time. And, most of all, they care about their football team. They simply want it to be the heartbeat at the very center of it all.

There is no one, in my mind, who has typified this attitude on the playing field more than Pro Bowl free safety Brian Dawkins.

If the city of Philadelphia could somehow sprout legs, strap on a helmet, and run out on the gridiron, it would surely take the form of old, reliable number 20. It would sit back in its safety position and deliver bone-crushing hits on unsuspecting receivers. It would break through the line at blazing speed and punish the quarterback. It would somehow develop an uncanny magnetism for the football and jar loose a fumble at just the right moment. It would appear on your television screen as if out of nowhere to snag an interception. And, each time, it would celebrate with a characteristic flex of the muscles and a flap of the wings.

I make this comparison because I want you to realize how important this guy was to his team and its fans. His track record on the playing field speaks for itself: seven pro bowls, 936 total tackles, 34 interceptions, 32 forced fumbles, and 21 sacks. That’s a lot of numbers to chew on. 

But forget those.

Instead, let’s go back to a game in 2002 against the Texans when Dawk did it all. On defense he threw David Carr around like a rag doll, recording a sack, an interception, and a fumble recovery. Then he caught a pass from Brian Mitchell on offense and scampered 54 yards for a touchdown.

Or we can think back to a certain 4^th down connection from Donovan McNabb to Freddie Mitchell against the Packers in the 2003 Divisional Playoffs. No, Dawkins wasn’t playing offense this time around, but he did set up an Eagles win by picking off Brett Favre in overtime.

There was the unlikely run we saw two seasons ago. Dawk basically sealed a division title by ending games in Weeks 15 and 16 with interceptions in the end zone, first off of Eli Manning and then Tony Romo.

And this past season…is there anyone who could possibly downplay Dawk’s vital role in leading his team to a fifth NFC Championship game in the past eight years?

These are reasons enough for me to believe Weapon X still has a few more years left in the tank, both as a heavy-hitting playmaker at safety and as an emotional locker room presence

So how can you just chew him up and spit him out? How can you treat him like some ordinary player? Some chump free agent off the street?

The man gave his heart and soul to this team, to this city, to every fan who’s ever donned that midnight green number 20 replica on Sunday afternoons. The very least he deserved was to finish his career with the team who drafted him 13 years ago.

I’ve been a fan of this team for 30 years, and in that time I’ve endured repeated heartbreak. I’ve seen the team through stretches of perennial futility. I lived through the Kotite years. And each time I came back a stronger fan than ever.

But this time, I just don’t know.

Signed,

C.G. Morelli

The Sporting Scribe

The World Series: An American Legacy

By: C.G. Morelli

A game played by “the boys of summer” seems a bit out of place in the chilly days of October.  But, it’s during this autumn month when the Major League Baseball season winds down with one of the most exciting events in all of sports, the World Series. 

Over the course of a few weeks, teams slug it out in the playoffs, trying to earn a spot in our country’s most celebrated championship series.  But it hasn’t been around forever.  Just how did the World Series begin?

The Very First World Series

As far back as the 1880’s, head-to-head grudge matches had taken place between the top teams in various leagues.  Many of these contests featured long series of up to fifteen games and were not taken very seriously by players or spectators.  But in 1903 something special happened. 

For the first time, the well-known National League was feeling a lot of competition from a brand new league, which called itself the American League.  Many fans, who once believed the National League far more talented than the American League, began to wonder what would happen if the best team from each were to square off.  Managers on both sides saw a competition between them as a way to attract more interest in the game, and also to see who was best once and for all. 

At the end of the season, it was agreed that a tournament would be played between the two best teams in each league.  They decided to name it the World Series.

The mighty Pittsburgh Pirates, champions of the National League, took on the American League winners, the Boston Pilgrims in the best-of-nine series.  Everyone expected the Pirates, led by their star shortstop, Honus Wagner, to defeat the Pilgrims easily.  But it quickly became clear that Wagner would not be a factor.  He finished the series with only six hits, while committing six errors in the field.  Instead, a young pitcher from Boston named Bill Dineen stole the show, pitching four shutouts in the series to lead the Pilgrims to a surprising victory. 

When the team returned to Boston, fans swarmed the field at Huntington Avenue Grounds hoping to catch a glimpse of baseball’s first World Champions.  The grudge match between the two leagues created so much interest in the game of baseball that they decided to continue it every year.  The World Series has now been played for more than a century.  

           

Continuing the Tradition

Over the years, the World Series has changed only slightly, in order to make it the most competitive and exciting event it could possibly be.  In 1922, the length of the World Series was shortened to a best-of-seven series, as it remains today.  In 1969, the playoffs were created, giving more teams a chance to compete for a spot in the World Series.  In 1994, the commissioner of baseball added the Wildcard Round to the playoffs.  Many current baseball fans will agree that this feature has made the game even more exciting at the end of the season than it had been in the past.  As a result, the playoffs last a bit longer, pushing the World Series slightly later into the fall.  It is now common for the series to end in November rather than October.

Overall, however, the World Series we enjoy today has not changed much since the time of Honus Wagner and Bill Dineen.   The Fall Classic, as it has come to be known, still pits the best team in the National League against the best the American League has to offer.  It is still the grand stage for some of the greatest athletes in sports, and it still attracts the interest of millions of fans worldwide.  Most importantly, the dream of playing in a World Series some day is still fresh in the minds of many young boys and girls.

Into the Record Books

• On October 10, 1920, Bill Wambsganss of the Cleveland Indians completed the only unassisted triple play in World Series history.

• In game five of the 1956 World Series, Don Larsen of the New York Yankees pitched the only perfect game in series history by not allowing a single runner to reach base in nine innings.

• On October 12, 1982, Paul Molitor of the Milwaukee Brewers became the only player in history to record five hits in a single World Series game.

• Yankees closer, Mariano Rivera, holds the all-time record for recording the final out in four World Series championships.

If the Playoff Teams Were...Beers?

By: C.G. Morelli

So, I’m sacked out on the couch with a mountain of pork rinds to rival Kilimanjaro in front of me and one of a plethora of Divisional Playoff games blaring from the tube. I reach for my beer and take a long swig. Then I give a quick sip to my boy Mike Schmidt, my dog, who’s lazily watching every snap along with me.

I think to myself, “This is what life’s all about.” Playoff football, beer, little or no physical exertion…things can’t possibly get much better.

But then my mind begins to wander. The beer, the football, and the playoffs start mixing together, bouncing randomly off the inside walls of my skull, whipping around at warp speed, dredging up ideas I never knew I had. Then suddenly they all collide in one violent crash, molding them together as one.

That’s when it happens. A deep and earth shattering question arises from the darkest recesses of my mind:

What if the playoff teams were, uh, beers?

It’s an interesting path that could eventually end up both tasting great and being less filling. So I decided to take that trip.

Seattle Seahawks

America’s sweethearts hail from a crappy little tin can known as Qwest Field. For the Hawks, in their rainy weather hell, the regular season and training camp usually meld together as one in a typical year. But this is clearly not your typical year.

After slaying the also-rans of the NFC West to take home the division crown, a formidable lineup led by warhorse quarterback Matt Hasselbeck and journeyman runner Marshawn Lynch ousted the defending champs in memorable fashion. Fans are all too ready to watch another upset unfold this weekend at Soldier Field

But, in reality, this team is nothing more than the Corona Light of the playoff field. They’re tropical and even a little bubbly at first glance. A casual fan might get lost in the excitement of drinking in something new. However, all we’re really getting is the same old Cinderella story with a slightly more watered-down finish.

And let’s not forget the Seahawks’ inexperience, which will prove to be even worse than a big old piece of fruit in your beer.

New England Patriots

The Pats are the class of this year’s playoff field. They’ve been here before. They’ve gotten the job done on more than one occasion and, quite frankly, you know what you’re getting when it comes to this team.

All things considered, from a heavy hitting offense stocked with feared playmakers like Danny Woodhead and Benjarvus Green-Ellis, to a grizzled, veteran quarterback who’s simply on fire right now, to a battle-tested coach with a fistful of rings, it’s clear the Pats will be a tough out.

Like a good old-fashioned bottle of Sam Adam’s Lager, you know you’ll see a full bodied, complex, refreshing team at Foxboro this weekend. Only question is, will we get one of those nasty, skunky bottles of Sam that somehow inexplicably makes it into the six pack? Or will we get the real thing?

Atlanta Falcons

When Mike Smith brings his laid back coaching style to the table and Roddy White brings the dreds, there’s no better comparison in my mind than a bottle of Red Stripe.

Simple geography makes the Falcons a little bit different than the rest of the playoff field. Being the only team from the Dirty South gives them the feel of the squatty, brown bottle filled with a Rastafarian’s delight.

With a solid offense boasting Pro Bowlers Matt Ryan, Michael Turner, and Roddy White, the Falcons, like a bottle of Red Stripe, give you the illusion of silky smoothness going down.

But will Matty’s crispness suddenly turn to a bitter Jamaican-style after taste if the NFL gets its ultimate wish: an all NFC North championship game?

Pittsburgh Steelers

Now that’s enjoying the High Life, ladies and gentlemen…Miller High Life, that is.

This blue collar team comes from the quintessential blue collar town. It goes without saying that many of the fans in Da Burg will be loud, raucous, obnoxious, and with a belly full of the High Life throughout the playoffs. That alone should make the Stillers a formidable contender.

But that’s not the only reason I’ve likened them to the High Life. Just like the beer, they’re an every man’s team. They’ve won six Super Bowls already, and they did it on their own terms: by pounding the football. Look for Rashard Mendenhall to continue this fine tradition.

Don’t forget, the Steel-city crew boasts one of the grittiest defensive lineups in football, with Troy Polamalu cleaning clocks up the middle, and they can put up points in a hurry when Big Ben and Mr. Wallace are clicking.

If you love meat, potatoes, beer, and hard hitting, you’re a lock to be cheering for the Black and Gold this weekend.

RE: The fate of your worthless trading cards

Dear Readers,

I’d like to speak to all of you about a very pressing issue that affects many of us on a daily basis. That’s right, folks. I’m talking about the boxes full of worthless trading cards that forced your bowling ball bag and ironing board out of the closet and into your bathtub.

Now, I’ve faced this problem on more than one occasion. There was that grab bag of batboys-through-the-ages cards I picked up for a bargain price at the card show. I’m sure you’re surprised to hear that little experiment didn’t pan out.

Then there was the time I thought I’d struck it rich when I strung together a dozen full sets of ’87 Topps cards. What I didn’t take into account was the fact that Topps produced enough packs of cards in 1987 to give a stale piece of tooth-shattering, flavorless bubblegum to every man, woman, and child south of the moon.  

But still, no choice was worse than allowing a pallet-full of Rick Schu rookie cards to “just happen” to fall off the truck and “roll voluntary” into my garage. And out went the riding mower, my tool set, and the car…not to mention my last shred of dignity.

But I’ve had enough, people. I’m taking my garage back, and I’m doing so at the expense and reputation of those bargain basement baseball cards. And I’m not just talking about the average Joes, neither. I’m going for the throat. I’m heading straight for the scrubs, the most worthless cards I can find. Oh yes, my friends, they’ll be facing my wrath first.

Here are just a few of the ideas I’ve come up with in trying to free myself of these worthless cards.

The School of Hard Looks

In the fine tradition of all past and present ball players who have mimicked the pained expression of a hardened criminal in their trading card photos, I give you the game of Hard Look War. That’s right. It’s just like the ordinary playing card version of War that you’re used to, except the winning card is always that of the player with the hardest, most intimidating expression on their face. So basically, you want to stay away from any card with David Eckstein on the front. But definitely drop a Pete Incaviglia card on the table and watch your opponent’s ’95 Kevin Stocker Donruss shrivel up in fear. 

I guess you’re wondering what happens when the inevitable dispute arises from a difference in judgment between you and your opponent. I gotta to be honest with you, I don’t see this one ending pretty. Just make sure you pick a playing partner that is small, fragile, and slow of foot. Isn’t that why younger siblings were invented, after all?

Drink The Blues Away

Ok, so you’re looking for any excuse to knock a few back on your day off. Isn’t that the perfect reason for a new drinking game? I think it is.

But then you hear it: “Honey, you said you’d move your baseball card collection out of the closet. It’s been sitting on top of my wedding dress for three years!”

Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered. Go in there and grab that dusty box of baseball cards. Hell, while you’re at it, you might as well throw that dress on a hanger for her. Good, you’re golden. Now grab yourself a six pack and get to work.

The game is simple. Grab a handful of cards, toss them in the air and let them fall where they may. Then, pick up the card that landed closest to you, and then next closest, and so on. Every time you pick up a card with a player whose career average is under .250 you chug a beer.

There, that should keep you busy for at least ten minutes. When you’re finished, toss the cards in the trash and repeat with another handful.

Melt Them Down For Energy

Hey, all I’m saying is I’m tired of signing over half my pay check to the pimply geek behind the counter at Sunoco. I’m also tired of a frigate’s-worth of crappy trading cards hogging my whole garage. Are you starting to connect the dots? I mean, can you imagine a world where the Bud Smiths and Rick Reuschles of the world contributed to the conservation of world energy? It sounds like Utopia to me, folks.

In fact, the more I think about it, the more convinced I become about the inevitable conversion to crappy trading card energy. Then again, it just may be because I’m pretty sure Al Gore is probably sitting on an unopened case of ’87 Topps. The dude needs some space for his solar panels in that garage of his.

Make Them History

You’ve heard of Casey At Bat, but why not Momar or Churchill At Bat. All you really need is a few crappy trading cards, a black marker, and a hazy understanding of world history and you’re ready to morph your least favorite baseball players into your favorite historical figures…at bat.

The best thing about it is you don’t even need art skills to turn Von Hayes ’85 Fleer into Von Kaiser Hayes ’85 Fleer. The possibilities are endless and, I assure you, the revenge is sweet.

Some of my personal favorites include Brian “Davy Crockett” DuBois ’90 Upper Deck, Lloyd “Rick James” Moseby ’88 Donruss, Jeff “Honest Abe” Innis ’90 Upper Deck, and Jeff “Ponce De Leon” Granger ’94 Upper Deck. (pictured here)

Make Them the “Butt” of All Jokes

This one basically speaks for itself, and I’m not talking about actually bad mouthing your baseball cards to your friends. What I am referring to is probably one of the most childish and immature things you could possibly do to your worthless trading cards. That’s also why it’s my personal favorite.

A friend of mine back in middle school once astutely likened the small crevice which forms on the side of your index finger when you bend it down towards your palm to yet another crevice which undoubtedly makes more sense with the subtitle I’ve so subtly placed above. Of course, I did what any sports-minded person would do after hearing something so nonsensical. I took the ball and ran with it.

Therefore, for ultimate comic relief, I suggest you get yourself a pair a scissors and a few worthless trading cards and follow my directions.

First, you need to find a card with a good pose on it. In this case we’re looking for anything that gives new meaning to the line from Rookie of the Year, “Pitcher’s got a big butt.”

Then you need to go to cuttin’on it. Basically, you cut the player’s mid section out of the card. Stay with me here, the results are worth it.

Finally, you need to bend the tip of your index finger down to your palm. Look for the crease on the side of your finger…it’s hard to miss. Now, simply place your bent index finger behind the little window you created with the scissors. Take a look.

Woops, looks like somebody took part in a little too much sliding practice! Is there any wonder why there’s such a pained expression on Glenallen Hill’s face as he slides into home?

Please Help!  

So there you have it. In this writer’s opinion I’ve provided you with a fairly comprehensive list of possibilities when confronted with the troubling problem of what to do with your useless trading cards. I just wish there were more options out there because that pallet-full of Rich Schu rookie cards in my garage isn’t getting any smaller. That’s why I’m open to any ideas you all may have out there to alleviate my problem. Please keep them coming.

Thank you so much for your time and understanding in seeing me through what is obviously one of the more pressing issues of our times.

Sincerely,

C.G. Morelli

The Sporting Scribe