That’s right, the Redskins have officially announced who will grace the cover of this year’s cheerleader calendar and, well, she’s a baby’s momma. Kelly is 28, she’s from Waldorf, MD and her second passion is “skin care.” Oh, and her hotter and baby-less sister is also a Skins cheerleader. They’re like the Mottram’s of the cheer squad, except our second passion is “hair care.”
The Professional Cheerleader Blog has all of the Redskins cheerleader calendars since 1998, and I must say, 2000 was a much sexier year than I remember it being.
And don’t forget, you can meet all the ladies at FUR nightclub in D.C. tonight! Naturally, no t-shirts, athletic wear, sneakers, boots or hats are allowed, so leave that hot fitted at home, son.
Just about every other sports blog in the known universe got to this story before me, but I’m gonna post about it anyways because I heart Chris Cooley.
In a Washington Post column today — written by blogger lover Mike Wise — the true awesomeness of Cooley is unearthed. The bulk of it is about him and his girlfriend Christy, who was a Skins cheerleader, but lost her job for hanging out with Captain Chaos. Speaking of, it also explains how that nickname came about.
Oh, and this:
In honor of Christy’s 21st birthday last year, Christy’s father, Scott, and Cooley threw back 21 shots of Jim Beam bourbon. Apiece. ‘Oh, we were hurtin’,’ Cooley said.
Over the spring, Chris, Christy, Scott, her uncle Craig and aunt Shannon ended up at Vixens Gentlemen’s Club in West Virginia for what turned out to be a family outing.
“Everyone knew who Chris was,” Christy said. “The owner came out, they gave us VIP treatment and all of a sudden I look up and the strippers are dancing to ‘Hail to the Redskins.’ It was crazy.”
Amongst all this greatness, the best part for me is when I realized which cheerleader Christy was. Four years ago, my roommate and I had this exact Maxim photo framed and hanging in our living room. Cooley is officially on my all-envy team.
I haven’t been all over this great land of ours, but I would argue that August in D.C. is hotter than anywhere else in the country. “It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity” is the most accurate cliche ever. The heat index in Ashburn, where Skins camp is, was in the 110-115 range yesterday.
In this little clip from Comcast SportsNet, the Skins players tell us just how hot it is. But really, I post this with the hopes that someone can decipher what Santana Moss says. My best guess is “something some something, something just fried, it needs water.” And Fred Smoot is in it:
Update: My friend and commenter J-Hibb thinks Moss says, “Temp’chuhs Haht! (Tempratures hot!), Groww juh frah (Grounds(grass?) just fried!), It Neez wohtuh (it needs water).” He’s from southern Maryland, that’s how he knows these things.
Yesterday, Jamie touched on the fact that all the ‘Skins players ride to practice in a bus, except for Jon Jansen, who has an RV. Now we know what Jansen uses this RV for:
“Neither [offensive linemen Jansen or Casey Rabach] would comment on the large RV they are renting which is parked in the back of the lot at Redskins park.. They go in there together in between practices and do undesirable things.. Rabach has a penchant for showing off his nuts in the locker room and did so while we were talking to them.. Larry asked about Rabach’s “brain,” to which he explained how much work he has put into increasing the size of his ballsack.. Jansen agreed that Rabach has one of the largest ballsacks he’s ever seen.”
Wow. I have a couple of immediate reactions (aside from “wow”). First, how does one go about increasing the size of one’s ballsack? Second, what other “undesirable things” are these two doing in the RV? Actually, nevermind, I don’t wanna know the answer to either of those questions.
And for the record, the only acceptable way to show your nuts to another male is by wearing a texas belt buckle.
(Hand shakes to With Leather and Deuce of Davenport.)
I usually enjoy Washington Post columnist Mike Wise’s work, but, when it comes to writing about blogs, he must be stopped. Case in point, today’s column about the Redskins’ injury situation titled ‘Chicken Little, Alive and Blogging.’ Aside from the headline, here’s the part I take issue with:
It may not be DEFCON 1 in Ashburn, but don’t tell a few worried and neurotic folks in the blogosphere, where one poster writes: “What’s the point of waiting to panic in October? The gray skies descend upon us and the chill of autumn lingers like a used bathrobe.” Or this from DCSween: “Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, what did you think of the play?”
And my personal favorite, from groundhogdayguy: “Don’t worry. The Skins have a 3rd round pick next year, so we can trade for a backup running back to beef up the inactive list.”
Sad and subversive as it is, I usually like to stoke such fears. I have no problem contributing to the insecurity of any team’s core fan base. But on this note I have to say: People, it’s the first of August, not the Ides of March. Breathe deeply.
My response after the jump …
Continue reading Mike Wise, You Can Do Better Than This
Another reason, aside from the return of vertical passing, to be thankful for the demise of Mark Brunell: JC-17 commercials! First was his Eastern’s ad, and now this one for NFL.com fantasy football, which comes very highly recommended (Hogs Haven via FanHouse).
What is his fantasy value, you ask? He’s a solid No. 2 who’ll throw for over 3,000 yards, 20 TD and 10 INT and run not at all. I love round numbers.
And, yes, we desperately need to figure out how to post video around here.
Training camp has begun, which means the Washington Post dedicates two pages per day to the Skins. That would be overkill, except a hefty bit of said real estate goes to Bog Man Dan Steinberg and the uncovering of gems like the New Hair Report.
The star of this piece is fan favorite Mike Sellers, our starting H-Back who’s now 12 pounds lighter with three new tattoos and a two-tone beard (follow the link for a pic). So, really, in some ways, 2007 is already the year of Sellers and we needn’t go any further.
Fortunately, there’s more. He’s got a new nickname — “T-Pain” — to go along with his old nickname — “Dat Boy” — and is poised for a breakout campaign, or at least as much of a breakout campaign as an offensive player who hardly touches the ball can have. Superfan Jack Kogod stumped for Sellers Pro Bowl candidacy last season on the strength of his blocking ability, and Pro Football Prospectus says, “Sellers might be the most underrated player in Joe Gibbs’s offense.”
So, yeah, it may be July, but I’m prepared for a small measure of some football, especially after watching that animated gif of Sellers plowing through Correll Buckhalter (courtesy of Extreme Skins) about a dozen times.
Anyone who lives in the D.C.-area has long since be familiar with the Eastern Motors commercials. They feature, or have featured, a long list of athletes who either play in the area (ex. Clinton Ports, etc.), or are from the area (ex. Carmelo Anthony). The real key to their success is their amazingly infectious, and highly annoying, jingle, which is actually from a Shaggy song (read that in the City Paper once).
Apparently, a new batch of these commercials has hit the airwaves, and in this one Jason Campbell makes his small screen debut with a very convincing acting job:
Doesn’t he kind of talk like the “crackhead” who shows up at Peter’s door selling magazine subscriptions in Office Space? I know he’s got some personality in there somewhere.
There is also a new one with Jamal Lewis replacement Willis McGahee, among others.
Note: I apologize for the back-to-back YouTubes, but I’m slightly hungover from our blogger-fest last night, and moving pictures can do the work for me.
Meet Redskins superfan Kevin McCarthy, who you will certainly not be shocked to learn lives in southern Maryland. He has quite the mosaic (see it larger than you ever would want to) on his rather expansive back, and a custom sleeveless and backless shirt to accommodate it:
I hope he has enough room down there near his ass crack for Art Monk, and eventually, Jason Campbell and Clinton Portis (a brother can dream, no?).
Note: Bill Dudley was apparently an American football player in the 40’s and 50’s. Quite versatile, I must say. He was a halfback, punter, kicker, and WWII vet.
I used to think the idea of dating a girl who was a die-hard Redskins fan sounded so great. But as I’ve grown to the ripe old age of 25, I realize that being around girls who think they know anything about football (or even worse, actually do know anything about football) is just really, really annoying. It’s best if she simply understands that Sunday is sacred, unless the ‘Skins are playing on MNF or Thursday, and to please allow me to go to the home of whichever friend happens to have the biggest HDTV and the most beer and let me be miserable when they inevitably lose.
Having said all that, it’s good to know what I’m getting into if I end up dating a girl who isn’t a ‘Skins fan at all. Some site called Datehole (I wasn’t previously familiar with it) has put together a nice little PSA based on which NFC team your potential girlfriend roots for. An example:
“Explain that should she get pregnant during your time together it’s almost certainly not your child and she should stop watching Rextasy lest she get knocked up again.”
So, you get the idea. It’s not the greatest thing ever posted on the internet, but it did give me an excuse to point to my all-time favorite KSK post.