|Destroyer of dreams.|
I had a dream last night that I was at Sea World, and Ryan Seacrest was there (my subconscious really didn't work hard for that correlation). A gaggle of gawking teeny boppers were following him around, taking pictures, asking for his autograph, and being generally obnoxious. But Seacrest wasn't phased, he was carrying around an ice cream cone and smiling calmly. I was surprised that he was so serene in this environment, but I thought, "Oh well, whatever," and began to walk away from the whale tank where he was standing. At that moment, the most boisterous (see: loud and horrible) girl of the group, a hefty girl in clothes that didn't even remotely fit, came screaming toward the Seacrest and collapsed at his feet like someone at a Michael Jackson concert in 1988. I turned and saw her fawning at him and rolled my eyes, but he gently helped her to her feet as she begged him, through tears, to take a picture.
He saw me turning away and said, "Hey, you! Come here, can you take the picture?"
I had a camera around my neck, "You want me to take the picture?"
He said he did, and that he wanted me to e-mail it to him when I got home. I was confused, why would he want me to e-mail him some random picture of himself and an obnoxious fan? But who am I to question dream Seacrest, so he gave me his e-mail address (OMG SEACREST'S E-MAIL ADDRESS!) and I stepped back to take the picture. As I pressed the shutter down, Seacrest shoved the girl as hard as he could, I heard the camera shutter click, and she went flying head-first into the whale tank. Everyone gasped and looked in horror, aside from Seacrest, who was laughing maniacally and rushed over like a little kid on Christmas to see if I'd caught it on camera. I pressed the "Play" button on my camera to bring up the last photo, and there it was, in all its glory: Ryan Seacrest, face lit up with glee, shoving a poor teenaged girl into the whale tank at Sea World.
He patted me on the back and said, "Great job. Don't forget to e-mail it to me," and walked away, munching merrily on his ice cream cone while trainers fished the panicked girl out of the tank.
- Tim Tebow completed TWO PASSES in four quarters of play in the Denver Broncos' 17-10 win over the Kansas City Chiefs on Sunday. His completion percentage was 25%, he completed TWO PASSES, and his team WON. Are you reading this? What the hell is happening?! I'd make a Robert Johnson/"Me and the Devil" joke here, but at least Johnson got better at guitar after selling his soul.
- Lost in the shuffle of the NFL weekend was Jonathan Papelbon signing a $50 million deal with the Philadelphia Phillies on Friday, who will pay the closer roughly $15 million a season. It's the second-richest deal for a closer in MLB history, behind only Mariano Rivera's last two deals. Basically, if this were a business, Papelbon would've just signed the equivalent of a $100,000/yr. salary with benefits for working 15 minutes a week. Don't check the math, just agree with the concept. Thanks.
- Think the NBA is ready to end the lockout and play some basketball? Not even close. NBA players rejected the latest CBA offer from owners and called David Stern's (ironic) second ultimatum "extremely unfair." Billy Hunter, director of the players' union, said the union plans to file antitrust action, which means this season is pretty much dead. Hooray. At least Skyrim is finally out on PC ... who needs basketball when you can slay dragons!
- In a year or two, I have this weird feeling that Quick Takes won't even involve sports. I apologize in advance.
- Michael Vick broke his ribs on Sunday in a tough loss to the Arizona Cardinals. Something something dog fighting.
- After Buffalo Bills wide receiver David Nelson scored a touchdown Sunday against the Cowboys, he ran over to his girlfriend, Cowboys cheerleader Kelsi Reisch (it's like Romeo and Juliet), and gave her a hug and the ball. Dallas-area plumbers reported a record number of puke-clogged toilets in the aftermath of the event.
- Sometimes I think we, as fans, deify professional coaches, making the understandable assumptions that they couldn't have gotten to the point they have without superlative strategic brains and unfathomable comprehension of the sport. But then professional coaches decide to punt to Devin Hester, and I search NFL.com's careers section for any vacant head coaching positions.