Are We Boned? Yeah, We’re Boned.

Aieeeee! It's just like Pitcairn Island!

Oh, dear Christ. We get bored and wander off for several months, and our “beloved” league is in jeopardy? We figured it was the idle chatter of a few of the we-blogs, and perhaps there was some financial difficulty … wait, where’d the VooDoo go? Well, that’s just Tom Benson, and he’s kind of a dick. The league is as sturdy as one of my favorite Chicago institutions, The Tribune Company. Oh, it’s not? Oh, crap. The Predators, sold? What are the guys we met in New Orleans going to do with their scary masks? Terrorize children [more often]?

You’ll tell me it’s all going to be okay, right, San Jose Mercury News? Gak. “WE WILL TAKE ON ALL COMERS, FOR WE ARE INDESCRIBABLY WEALTHY,” is the campaign for the 2009 SaberCats, by the way. But what of The Dietz?  Certainly the Storm…

Despite reports of AFL troubles, Storm plods along

A ringing endorsement from the St. Petersburg Times-adjacent tampabay.com.

What happened? Well, until I can get a detailed analysis from our in-house economist, let’s use broad strokes: David Baker’s AFL was growing, and had a deal with ESPN that was supposed to secure the league’s future. He left us. Heleftusheleftusheleftus. Lex-from-Jurassic-Park interlude over, the VooDoo crumble with little-to-no-notice. A deal with A Mysterious Equity Group falls apart. Talks, dispersal draft, and free agency are all postponed. No schedule?

Boned, boned, boned. Where are our cut-rate Woodward and Bernstein to follow the money? Where’d it go? Did the league expand too quickly under Baker, only to collapse like a dying star? A star that was interesting, but never really that bright in the first place? Colorado is one of the teams facing awkwardness, and they’ve been one of the sturdier teams, owned by John Elway. If Elway’s hurting, everybody’s hurting.

Dammit.

We don’t write for a while, and this is what it takes to put fingers to keys?

At least we didn’t come back for an epitaph.

Yet.

BREAKING: Commissioner Hagrid! What Will We Do Without You?

In a surprise move two days before the Arena Bowl, and one year after signing a contract extension, Commissioner David Baker resigned his post for reasons… mysterious.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I never thought I would do this for the rest of my life,” Baker told The Associated Press. “The league has never been stronger … it gives me the opportunity to look into doing other things.”

…

“There’s a lot of great opportunities for this league.” Baker said. “So this is a good time for me. If I didn’t go now, there would be no other career for David Baker.

“Like my good friend John Elway, I am going out on top.”

Bullshit. If it doesn’t turn out that he was called back to Saltfjellet by Hrungnir, King of All The Mountain Giants, I’m calling shenanigans on this whole thing. Because a world where Commissioner Hagrid resigns because he’s bored, and not because he must take part in a 10,000-year-old ancestral tradition of hewing forests, draining lakes, and piloting the mighty glaciers themselves is not a world in which I want to live.

Nevertheless, fans and employees of the Arena Football League owe David Baker a debt of gratitude for the last 12 years of work, which saw consistent growth in team value and visibility, a shocking increase in media coverage (thanks, Worldwide Leader!), and the ability to mock the leadership of every other sport. Bud Selig, Roger Goodell, David Stern, and especially that troll Gary Bettman should thank their lucky stars they no logner have to be shown up by the commissioner of a second-tier sport in professionalism, fan-friendliness, and the ability to crush coal into diamonds.

It’s Still Football wishes Mr. Baker the best, and would be remiss in neglecting to mention that meeting the guy last year was insanely great. We also might have been inebriated. But that shouldn’t detract from the fact that we were duly impressed by his magnificence

I hope he still takes care of all the Arena Bowl XXII pomp and circumstance, because it’d just feel weird to have Ed Policy hand over the 10-Ton Foster Trophy.

Godspeed, You Titan; You Showed Us How a 7'6" Bazillionaire Should Act

ARENA BOWL XXII: We’re Way Less Interesting Than Last Year

I stole ESPN's Banner. I am a winner.

So, guess what? Between general apathy and real-life nonsense, we totally blew off the playoffs (which apparently were hosted in Crazy Town, final results notwithstanding), and aren’t going to New Orleans again. For which my liver thanks the Flying Spaghetti Monster. BUT ANALYSIS WILL ENSUE!

ALL HAIL.

Multiple members of Bon Jovi! Jaws! More Cowbell! The Grieb Laser Industry! Darren Arbet! The Guy Who Owns Fry’s! D’Orazio! SOME OTHER PEOPLE OHMYGODIT’STHEARENABOWL!

Dear Point-Counterpoint, I never thought this could happen to me… (Jump?)

ESPN Is Doing An Arena Bowl Whatty-what?

Well! This looks familiar.

Jiggly camera work? Silly questions? Athletes amusing themselves? Seen it… before… but… more awkwardly?

AH HA! ESPN! Well, since we can’t go, Mary Buckheit can appropriate our hand-held stumbling meme. NEXT YEAR, MARY: DUELING CAMCORDERS!

This ArenaBowl is brought to you by the letters M, V, and the number 7

This'll learn us some maths!

Okay. The ArenaBowl is nearly upon us. As compared to last season’s painfully in-depth playoff coverage, due to a multitude of boring excuses we’ve done little to guide you through this year’s harrowing journey of [checking ESPN] Philadelphia and San Jose to New Orleans for ArenaBowl XXII.

How are we going to make it up to you?

With some sweet DVD giveaways, THAT’S HOW.

For whatever reason [most likely: we run a sports blog; least likely: our leather-bound books and odors of rich mahogany], we were recently contacted by some fine folks who offered us FIVE COPIES of the hotly anticipated Sesame Street sporting spectacular DVD “COUNT ON SPORTS”.

Want a copy? Leave a comment with your prediction of who will be the victor of Arena Bowl XXII for your chance to bring home the bacon, in Sesame Street DVD form.

Check back this weekend for an ARENA BOWL XXII LIVE BLOG, and coming soon, a LITERARY REVIEW OF SAID SESAME STREET DVD.

Don’t even act like we don’t love you. Now put a wager in the comments. We’ll draw winners at random if there’s more than five folks calling the game. Voting stops at kickoff.

Bugger Off, Pac-10 Commissioner Search

On Tuesday, Pac-10 Commissioner Tom Hansen announced that July 1, 2009 would be his final day at the helm of the conference. We said, and I quote, “What? Who? Whatever.” Because we are Big Ten apologists above all else, and therefore harbor a deep-seated jealousy towards the Pac-10 for their weather, girls, ostensibly laid-back attitude, and bazillion NCAA championships. Also, we don’t pay attention to “rumors,” “news,” or “facts.” But when you suggest that perhaps our favorite motile mountain of a commissioner would be a good fit for the opening, why, our hackles get raised. He’s ours, Pac-10, and we like him, because he can palm my head like ordinary people might a grapefruit. Also, he’s made great strides towards make the Arena Football League notable, and quite nearly relevant. But most of all, he legitimately cares about the goofy league with the crazy rules, and genuinely seems to have fun with his job.

He’s not an evil gnome, employed despite global revulsion and incompetence that nearly killed his sport (Gary Bettman). He’s not a megalomaniac who, when confronted with bad news, essentially sticks his fingers in his ears and goes “Woo! Woo! Can’t hear you! Train coming through!” (David Stern, who I am convinced is the guy who hisses into his phone to fake a bad connection, or drops syllables and claims that “there’s someone on the other line.”) He’s not a combination of the two, with the exception that – by the grace of God and rampant drug use – his sport managed to not get hooked up to life support. (Buuuuuud Selig!) And he’s not a power-mad autocrat who thinks he’s Zeus. (Roger Goodell, who I actually kind of like.) He’s our friend! So, take a hike, Pac-10.

Jerry Jones is not answering his phone

Ten seconds from steam shooting from his ear canals.

[phone rings]

[phone rings]

[phone rings]

CLICK BEEEEP

Hello, you’ve reached the office of Jerry Jones, Football Mastermind of the Dallas Cowboys and Desperados. I’m sorry I can’t take your call right now, but if you leave a message after the tone I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. If you’re one of my players looking for bail money, please dial 0 for the operator.

BEEP

Hey, Jerry, it’s Jon again. Just wanted to check in on you, see how you’re doing. I know how seriously you take these things, and I don’t want you to get too down in the dumps. Think about your blood pressure.

So, yeah… I’m on tour in Europe right now, but I’ll be playing Madison Square Garden next month. You want some tickets? The All American Rejects are playing too, maybe that’ll make you feel better?

Come on, Jerry, pick up the phone.

It’s no fun kicking your ass twice a year in this rivalry if you’re going to be a little bitch about it. Get over it, man. Call me.

CLICK BEEP

[Jerry stares vacantly at phone as dried Cherry Garcia flakes off two-day stubble]

Week 14 Power Rankings, Picks, and Pillow Fights

Shockingly, the sun hasn’t set on LA’s 4-9 season yet.

The playoffs are starting to shape up: Chicago already clinched a week-one bye; Dallas, Philly, San Jose, and (you’re reading this right) Arizona have all clinched playoff berths. That means pretty much everyone else still has a shot, which is kind of a slap in the face to the National Conference’s 8-win teams (Georgia, New Orleans, and Orlando) and 7-win teams (Cleveland and New York) (Tampa Bay hovers at 6 wins… for now?) since the remaining American Conference teams that have yet to clinch a spot in the playoffs, but are still eligible, are at 3, maybe 4 wins on the season (looking at you, LA, Utah, Colorado, Grand Rapids, and Kansas City).

Wow, Run-On-Sentences much?

Anyhow, there’s quite a bit at stake this week for all the teams on the bubble, as one of my camp directors used to say, “go big or go home”. After the jump, we have this week’s Power Rankings from ESPN’s Grampa “Find An Intern to Write This Damn Thing For Me” Gary Horton; arena football betting advice fit for an emperor with no clothes, and a sneak peek at this weeks’ certifiable Pillow Fight.

From the Arizona Rattlers’ Front Office

PHOENIX, AZ – FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Saturday evening, the playoff-guaranteed Arizona Rattlers made good on that guarantee by defeating the Orlando Predators, clinching a playoff berth.

Phew.

We in the front office would like to express our relief that we don’t have to find $2.2 million dollars somewhere. I mean, sure, we’re insured against that kind of thing, but do you know what our premiums would go up to next year? We’d have to pay our front office in Del Taco coupons. Next year’s shtick would’ve been “Ever seen an entire pro sports team run by unpaid college interns? THE ARIZONA RATTLERS: CATCH THE FEVER MONO.”

Rattlers Managing Partner Brett Bouchy wants to personally add the following:

“We’d like to thank all the fans that supported the Rattlers this year, and know that playoffs are just the beginning. We came here to win championships. Also, hahahahahahaha! I’m rich! Rich! Well, I remain rich! Okay, I wasn’t made completely destitute! Hahahahaha! Suck it! I’m going to go re-fill my pool, now that I know I can afford it! See you later, suckers!”

Don’t forget: if you order season tickets for next year, we’ll totally give you playoff tickets for this year. For our many, many playoff home games. Like, the tons of them we will inevitably have. In a parallel universe.

Weekend in Review: The Only Consistent Thing is Inconsistency

Would you believe that this is the only current picture of this game I could find on the entire Internet? What the French, Toast?
Georgia 40, NEW ORLEANS 29

Every time I think about making Danny Wimprine the It’s Still Football Official Randomly Chosen Hero of 2008, the VooDoo decide to do things like avoid the end zone like it’s made of super-hot magma. A respectable-to-zesty NFL line of 26/48-244-3-0 doesn’t mean diddly indoors. Though, their continued effort to engage in lengthy touchdown passes to fullback James Lynch (5′ 11″ 276? Really? He looks three bills at least.) did provide me with no small amount of glee that was eclipsed only by Georgia’s “razzle dazzle” play that they “drew up in the dirt.” I quote directly from the mic’d commentary of Georgia’s
Jim Kubiak, on that one. It’s like they’re reading my thoughts. Georgia, finally showing the verve we EXPECTED at the BEGINNING of the year, went on a double-digit-to-zero (19-0 this time) run again to close out the game. DID YOU KNOW? New Orleans is tres not good on ESPN Deuce, chere. 0-3? DID YOU ALSO KNOW? Georgia’s quarterback The Scrappy Chris Griesen’s gains his power of being impervious to pain from ancient Aztec gold, as he is descended directly from an otherwise unremarkable conquistador.

Find the lies after the jump. Find the lines (and watch a little piece of my soul die) at the place where you bet on football.