Boogie On, Reggae Blogger

I'M A MAN, YES I AM, AND I CAN'T HELP BUT LOVE YOU SO...
So claimed Oklahoma State football coach Mike Gundy during his now-infamous post-game tirade on Saturday (the "I'm A Man" part, anyway), as he went after Daily Oklahoman columnist Jenni Carlson for an article she wrote which criticized OSU's QB Bobby Reid and allegedly questioned his manhood, etc.  I haven't read the article so I don't know if Carlson's assertions are true or not, nor do I really care—in my eyes this was just bullshit macho bravado histrionics put on by the coach of a college football team grossly overshadowed by a far-superior one just 80 miles or so down the road in Norman who is desperate to keep his name and school (ironically) in the papers.  A little footnote here: Jenni Carlson and I were co-workers for a brief time when I moonlighted as a stats editor at the K.C. Star back in the '90s when she was first starting out in the business.  She never came across to me as being malicious or as someone who would intentionally smear someone, and to her credit, Jenni is standing by her story and her sources.  As for Mr. Gundy, even if his concerns with Carlson's article are valid, he should have dealt with her and/or the editors of the paper in private instead of pissing all over what should have been a celebration of his team's VICTORY over Texas Tech at a post-game press conference.  I repeat, folks--a VICTORY!  Sorry, coach G., you are totally classless...

And oh yeah, as for this notion that anyone (be it print media professionals, or—heaven forbid—schmucks like yours truly) have the unmitigated gall to criticize amateur athletes solely because they ain't getting paid, that's a bunch of caca!  It's not like anyone's forcing these guys to participate in collegiate athletics, so they're fair game in my book—especially starting quarterbacks—so, suck it up and deal with it, all you Peyton Manning wanna-be's!

VAN WHO-LEN?
I spent some quality time at the library today (aka Barnes & Noble) thumbing through that new book Everybody Wants Some!!—The Van Halen Saga and it's a damn good read.  I'm too cheap to pay the $28 for the hardcover version, so I've just been skipping around reading the juicy parts, and there's some very interesting shit to behold.  Evidently the rift between Eddie Van Halen and David Lee Roth went as far back as the Fair Warning album in 1981, at which point EVH considered leaving the band.  By the end of the 1984 tour, Eddie, Alex and Michael Anthony all could no longer stand Diamond Dave's bullshit, even though by all outward appearances everything was just peachy.  When Roth did indeed leave the band in 1985, other musicians (besides Sammy Hagar) talked of collaborating/working with VH, including Phil Collins, Brian May of Queen and—most intriguingly—Pete Townshend of The Who.  I can't see that one working in a million years—those gi-normous egos would've cancelled each other out, but it might've been fun trying.  Near as I could tell, the book doesn't mention that there was actually talk of Eddie Van Halen joining Kiss in 1982 after Ace Frehley left.  One shudders to think what Ed would've looked like in Kiss make-up...

SMOKE FROM A DISTANT VICK
Seems that everyone's favorite dog lover has also now tested positive for marijuana.  Is it just me, or does M. Vick fuck up just about as often as the band Foghat changes bass players?  Still, I'm sure the NAACP Vickweeds out there will continue to insist that poor Snoop Mikey Mike deserves a (thirty)second chance at redemption, because as we all know, black people never do anything wrong...

CHICK SOCCER RULES!
Best of luck to the United States womens soccer team in the World Cup semifinals against Brazil in China tomorrow morning (our time).  Unlike chick basketball, I can actually sit through a women's soccer game and enjoy it.  Women playing basketball always looks so awkward and amateur-ish to me, but the girls play soccer (and hockey too, for that matter) much more fluidly, and are every bit as tough as the guys at times.  In best Oprah/Tyra Banks parlance:  You go, girls!

WHEN MASCOTS ATTACK!
Kudos to my favorite sports mascot this side of The Famous Chicken and Truman The (M.U.) Tiger, as the Chiefs' K.C. Wolf made a sizeable assist in the apprehension of a stupid drunk fuck running onto the field at Arrowhead on Sunday.  It was certainly better than any tackle the Chefs made on Sunday...

OH SO ORIGINAL!
VH-1 Classic has been recently hyping the first "solo" album by Ann Wilson of Heart, which naturally is comprised of nothing but remakes of other people's songs, like the Youngbloods' '60s epic "Get Together" and Led Zeppelin's "The Immigrant Song".  I love AW to death here, but this ain't exactly winning me over, although I do give her a couple style points for duetting with Elton John on his obscure and underrated track "Where To Now, St. Peter?".  I know I've posed this question before, but why the filth-flarn-filth can't (or won't) Classic Rock people come up anything new nowadays?!?  Apart from U2, Tom Petty, Sir Elton himself, and Bruce Springsteen (whose new song "Radio Nowhere" ain't half-bad, btw), we get nothing but albums full of cover songs from everyone today!  Hell, even that hick Mellencamp at least still puts out new—albeit inferior—original material today.  Has Rock 'N' Roll truly run out of things to say?