Moises Alou: 1993 Boston Marathon Champion

Hello again, It's your favorite NFL kicker Martin Gramatica reporting back to the Saloon. I was recently charged with stalking and conspiracy to commit murder and spent some time in a Sudanese prison. I was unable to contain my love for Cosby Kid, Tempest Bledsoe, and apparently the police, the childhood actress/temptress, and the rest of society frowns on my behavior. But I digress....

I couldn't help but to notice the baseball card of former Cub, Moises Alou. That picture does not conjure up memories of a former All-Star outfielder. No, no. Instead it reminds me of an Ethiopian marathon participant. That man on that baseball card has probably been seen running through villages in Africa, late night informercials that try to get you to "sponsor" a child (normally with flies on its face), and running in marathons.

That is no "slugger". It certainly isn't the guy that got robbed by ol whats his name in the NLCS either. Get the man a plate and the nearest Shoneys!!!

Damn You Tony!!!!!!!

It was my chance to shine......Heart was in my throat....Down by 1.......1:19 on the clock.....

After winning a Super Bowl with the Buccaneers in '03, my life fell to shambles. I was cut from the Bucs in '04 after missing 5 consecutive field goals in a 2 game stretch including 2 possible game winners. I toiled in obscurity until the beginning of this year when the Patriots took a chance and invited me to camp only to cut me as camp expired. I was ready to hang up my cleats and retire to Paraguay to grow cocaine and play soccer. Then Jerry Jones called. He wanted me to join the Cowboys who were a legitimate playoff contender. Yahtzee!!! I had the game winning kick against the Giants and Coach Parcells wanted to bed me. Jerry Jones gave me head in the locker room. All was good in my life.

Even after losing games and making it into the playoffs by a thread, I was confident that I would have a chance yet again to be a Super Bowl Champion. Then there was our 1st round game at Seattle. First Quarter, I kick a 50 yard field goal to tie the score at 3-3. I could already envision myself in the next Chunky soup commercial. Third quarter, I kick yet another field goal this time of the 39 yard variety. Stuart Scott's voice was ringing in my head "Boo-Ya, kid's clutch when the games on the line" I could even see that one eye of his dancing all over my TV. Then after a bizarre series of events, there it was.....

Ball on the 2......snap was good.....my steps were on.....

Then Tony Homo drops the ball. I am forced to block (of all things) and Homo scrambles back to the line of scrimmage and Qwest Field erupts. The rest of the clock melts away and I, the great Martin Gramatica was left on the sideline to wait yet another day to be a hero. I may not be back in the league next year. The pundits will blame me for what happened. Not Tony the Golden Boy. He dates Carrie Underwood. I date the Undertaker. He's America's boy. I'm America's jack-ass.

I openly hope that Tony is released by the Cowboys and ends up in NFL Europe where he catches diphtheria and poops a lot. Then he will know how it feels to be screwed in the behind when all of the money is on the line.

The Luck of the Muslims

Its official. The luck of the Irish has officially run out. It melted away in the Louisiana Superdome on Wednesday night as the seconds ticked off and LSU capped off their season with a resounding 41-14 victory over Notre Dame. Is anybody shocked? Besides the Notre Dame student body, faculty, alumni, parents, and the morons that flock to this program because they are part Irish, was there anybody that thought Notre Dame had a shot? Does anybody have any relief for Ol Chuck Weis and his Majerus-sized gut??

I do. Its not John Basedow and the Fitness Made Simple program. Its a name change. The Notre Dame Fighting Irish will now be known as The Notre Dame Fighting Muslims.

The luck has simply run out in South Bend and its high time that Touchdown Jesus turned into Touchdown Allah.

Lets face it, Irish people are drunks. They sit in taverns all night sipping black foamy lager listening to U2 and watching soccer. Muslims pray a lot. They can also be very violent. Ask any red-blooded American soldier in Iraq what their worst nightmare is and they'll likely tell you that its a cameljockey with a mange ravaged beard in a robe barking about Jihad with an RPG Rocketlauncher. Not a midget with a red beard and a four leaf clover stitched on his back.

Would there be anything more menacing for an opposing team than to come to Notre Dame Stadium in South Bend on a Saturday, run through the tunnel onto the field only to realize that it was made of sand, and to see the home team kneeling on rugs, kissing a copy of the Koran? Sounds much more scary than the current surroundings which make you feel like you are going to church.

Another good reason to take on the name of the Fighting Muslims would be that Americans could finally afford gas again. The trillion dollar oil companies in the Middle East would pack the stadium every week and gas prices would plunge in America. We could get a full tank of gas for the same amount it would cost us to go into a local watering hole and purchase a pint of that black foamy sludge the Irish call beer.

The cupcakes on the schedule would actually make interesting matchups for once. Imagine the storylines that would build up to the Air Force Vs Notre Dame game then?

I imagine that there would be some downfalls. For instance, it would be hard to know all of the players on the team. With names like El-Khazid Muhammed, Imaad Udeen Hussein, and Wajeeh Waahid Fateen, Brent Musberger would have his work cut out for him. Better yet, imagine what it would be like trying to listen to Pat Summerall call the game.

The cheerleaders would also be wearing blue and gold burqas. This would be a huge downfall from the hot sluts that currently patrol the Notre Dame sidelines. Instead of those great crotch shots that we currently get on TV, we would see.....well.....their eyes.

Maybe the Fighting Muslims isn't such a great idea. After all there is always room for lovable losers like the Irish. Just ask any Cubs fan. Worst of all, I'd hate to see what kind of tarp they would have to use to furnish Charlie Weis with a robe.

If the conversion to Fighting Muslims is unrealistic and unwanted, maybe we could try something else. How does the Notre Dame Fighting Pollacks sound?