Before you read this, listen to this.
Done? Okay, good. Now that you’re in the right frame of mind, we need to talk about a very important issue confronting the United States of America this autumn in the year of our lord 2013: the complete lack of sartorial coordination among Monday Night Football announcers.
Today marks the official start of the NFL season and New York Fashion Week.
So we’re connecting the dots by taking a look back–all the way back, to the 1920s–at the most stylish NFL players of all time. (And yes, we’re grading on a steep curve here.) So, without further ado:
You did it. You survived Thanksgiving. Now what?
You could join the fray of rabid consumers… or you could catch up on your Kempt, with a few timely reads from the archives that should help you make it through the weekend—like some prescient sweatpants advice, football talk with John Elway or something magical we like to call T.Hanks-giving. Without further ado:
It’s football season. So we thought it might be a good time to talk on the phone with John Elway. The HOF Broncos QB is currently working with Dove Men+Care on their really well-executed Journey to Comfort campaign.
That three-hour headache you got yesterday had nothing to do with an ill-fitting Halloween costume or the vertical hold on your television. Rather, the culprits were these 1934 Pittsburgh Steelers throwback uniforms black and yellow stripes, block letters and knee-high bumblebee socks. At times we weren’t sure whether we’d tuned in to a football game or a WWF tag-team bout from 1985.
Everyone knows why teams dust off vintage uniforms: to sell more merchandise. Everyone also knows that the average NFL club is worth $1.14 billion. Which is why we’re respectfully begging NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell (and MLB Commissioner Bud Selig, for that matter) to put an end to this nonsense.
While we’re at it, that’s enough pink for one season, no?
The NFL season kicked off over the weekend, with Washington Redskins rookie quarterback Robert Griffin III (“RG3”) emerging as the top story from week one. The photo above was snapped moments after Griffin completed an 88-yard pass to Pierre Garcon, resulting in his first NFL touchdown. The ’Skins went on to upset New Orleans 40-32. In other news, Peyton Manning is still good at football.
Remember, nobody cares about your fantasy football team nearly as much as you do.
You’ve got less than two days to get ready for some football.
And more essential than any secret dip recipe or fantasy team voodoo, you’re going to need a trusty pair of sweatpants for your long Sundays to come—not to be confused with the Sundays at the bar (seriously, don’t wear these to a bar, to work or to anything other than an absolute emergency High Life restock). So we rounded up the finest specimens of jersey-cotton leg blankets on the market today, for your football enjoyment, depending on your sartorial leanings—from the Anglophile to the couch-styled.
You may have noticed something out of the ordinary during LaDainian Tomlinson’s retirement speech on Monday. He looked… happy. Like, truly happy—not Brett Favre happy. Perhaps that’s because he was being given the ultimate honor—the San Diego Chargers, with whom he racked up the majority of his 13,684 career yards—signed LT to a one-day contract so he could retire a Bolt. In return, he busted out a fetching summer bow tie/pocket square combo with just the right amount of San Diego Charger blue.
Lawrence Berra was nicknamed “Yogi” by Bobby Hofman, who thought Berra resembled a Hindu yogi—solemnly seated with arms and legs crossed—after losing a game.
When Kansas City Athletics owner Charlie Finley saw Jim Hunter pitch for the first time in 1965, he knew he’d signed a legend. The only problem, according to Finley, was the name—“Jim Hunter” didn’t sell tickets. The next morning, Finley called Hunter into his office and informed him that his name was now “Catfish.” Jim was understandably confused, and while the conversation was not recorded, we’re almost positive his response was, “Um… why’s that?”
That’s because baseball players, like all professional athletes, are first and foremost entertainers—and entertainers aren’t named “Jim.” Unfortunately, guys like Charlie Finley are a bit of a dying breed. The perfect nickname used to be steeped in lore, metaphorically connected to athletic prowess, an inside-out joke that made children of all ages—particularly the nickname-ee—grin. Now, it seems, the “-Rod” generation simply resorts to hyphenated pig latin of sorts.
As Hunter left the office, he asked his new owner what he should say if and when people asked about the origin of his new nickname. Finley replied, “You came back from the river on your 10th birthday having caught six catfish and handed them to your old man. Sell it. Goodbye.” On that note, we now present the very best nicknames in sports…
There were a lot of bizarre spectacles this weekend, but they all fell into three basic categories:
Good Weekend: Eli Manning, Chevy, Mitt Romney
Bad Weekend: Ferris Bueller, Massholes, Bill Belichick’s sweatshirt
Weird Weekend: Tightrope dancer bouncing on testicles in Madonna’s halftime show
As gentlemen, we would never bet on the outcome of a sporting event. Luckily, we don’t have to.
Come Sunday, we’ll be betting on the outcome of the national anthem, the halftime show and the ceremonial pouring of the Gatorade. They’re part of a slew of online prop bets that have popped up in anticipation of the Super Bowl. And to guide you through the thicket of wagers, we’ve collected seven of our favorites, along with expert analysis of each one.
It’s time to bet the mortgage. There’s absolutely nothing that could go wrong.
The pageantry of Fashion Week usually includes a few stars from the sports world. In recent years, they’ve looked damn good (Amare Stoudemire, for instance), and more importantly, they’ve made the events seem like more than just a weeklong festival of the most inaccessible regions of the fashion world. Pull it off right, and everybody wins.
Until, of course, someone doesn’t.
Page Six has leaked word that Michael Vick is trolling for Fashion Week invites, and it’s not going so well. It could be the whole “cruelty to animals” thing, or his penchant for square-shouldered three-button suits—or just that Anna Wintour’s more of a Giants fan. Either way, it looks like he’ll be sitting this one out.
Now that the dust has settled on Sunday’s Ravens-Patriots game, it’s time we took a closer look at its lexical legacy—the word “cundiff.”
Thanks to Billy Cundiff’s game-losing missed kick from just 32 yards out, the surname has taken on a life of its own, a brand-new word with unique meaning: inexplicably failing at a routine task, with catastrophic consequences.
Suddenly, we’re hearing it everywhere—not surprising, since it happens all the time. And to show how useful the new piece of vocab truly is, we’ve put together a few prime examples after the jump…
We can say with relative certainty that four men had a rougher weekend than you: Billy Cundiff and Kyle Williams single-handedly lost NFL divisional playoff games for their respective teams, Mitt Romney coughed up a double-digit lead to lose in South Carolina (and, retroactively, in Iowa), and Italy’s least favorite cruise captain Francesco Schettino was charged with yet another count of manslaughter as the 14th passenger’s body was discovered off the coast of Giglio.
So… it could be worse.
The Reentry may feel a bit premature this week, since you’re easing into that not-so-short stack of french toast, but there’s no harm in keeping a toe in the waters of reality over the long weekend.
Here’s a good place to start: in the past 72 hours, a cruise ship slow-sank off the coast of Italy, Homeland and The Descendants won big at the Golden Globes, and Jesus Christ finally gave Tim Tebow some tough love. Thank God.
In honor of the playoffs, we couldn’t resist passing along this 1969 Sports Illustrated snap, which finds Joe Namath relaxing poolside with reporters in the run-up to Super Bowl III. Note the shorts, the fan base and the shit-eating grin. Eat your heart out, Rodgers.
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