Rescue Club

Tiger Woods is not pressing charges against his hot wife. The hot wife isn't pressing charges against Tiger Woods. And the rich guy who called 911 didn't see anything other then his rich neighbor post tree swipe. So why would the police attempt to interview the golfer three times about a one car accident that affected no one but Tiger Woods?

It appears as if the police in hoity toity Florida have nothing to do with their free time. It doesn't take a detective to know that this accident doesn't add up to a whoopsee, but truth be told, this has gone beyond their business and it's high time someone stuck up for the Tiger here.

Yes Woods should have said something, anything really. "My baby needed some diapers. I had a Big Mac attack. I like to putt at night." Follow up any of these reasonable excuses with a smile and laugh it off as "one of the goofiest things I've ever done," and it's case closed. Barney Miller and the rest of the crew would have gone back to investigating curfew issues at the local nursing home. But because Tiger curtly told everyone to suck it, now the consumers of everything Octomom are frothing for information assuming Hot Elin is the real life version of the bride from "So I married an Ax Murderer."
And they should be. Come on, the whole thing is so preposterous. Woods somehow hits a fire hydrant and a tree going under 30 miles per hour. Elin gives the term "rescue club" a new definition busting the back windshield pulling her woozy Woody to safety. This all without either of them suffering any flesh wounds from being pulled through broken glass.

That said, the law prohibits enforcement officials from literally morphing into paparazzi. Somebody is bucking for a promotion in the Windermere police academy it seems. Find out Elin went Ike Turner with a 3 wood after reading of rumors of the Tiger wagging his tail outside the marriage. But they are getting to the point of overstepping their bounds here. The accident happened in front of his property. It affected no one but he and his family and I suppose an arbor day enthusiast who's dog liked to pee on that hydrant. Attempting to attain a warrant of Woods's medical records to try to pull a CSI and figure out if his facial injuries were caused by a steering wheel or a Callaway Big Bertha is a bit Us Weekly if you ask me.
While Tiger went about this the worst way possible, he does have the law on his side here even if the law wants to try to stare down the stare down king.

Wieeeeeeeeee!

"It's definitely off my back. I think that hopefully life will be a lot better." Michelle Wie, yesterday.

No one cares about the LPGA which is what astounds me over the ridicule levied at Michelle Wie. She was a golfing phenom swallowed up by the media because she decided prematurely that she would be better served playing with boys then girls.

Ten years ago, Wie qualified for a USGA event. She was ten. Two years later, she played in her first LPGA tournament. She was a tour de force. By 15, she was supposed to make Annika her biatch. And by 20, she would be paired up with Tiger on Sunday strolls at the Masters. Only the flawed logic never seemed to give pause to anyone. No one stopped to think that maybe a ten year old girl would have a hard time keeping up with Phil Mickelson. A ten year old girl probably couldn't beat me in skee ball if she practiced every day. The idea that Wie would be Tiger's Arnie was patently absurd. But here we were, lapping it up like imbeciles who believe in the tooth fairy.

Now Michelle got some bad advice. Her parents, handlers, money hounding "representatives" knew the media had bought into her as some kind of golfing alien who'd change the way we looked at the sport forever. And they decided if they didn't cash in immediately, they'd likely be leaving a lot of dough on the LPGA fairways. Truth was, if she went out on the women's tour, which nobody cares about, and didn't have a 10 stroke lead heading into every Sunday, then their sales pitch would be less likely to be believed. So they went for it, to the detriment of her best interests.

Now Wie is rich for a 20 year old. Rich based on hype. But not unlike the first round quarterback who gets sacked 75 times in his rookie season, or the pitcher who gets sucked under a bizarre set of rules that limit when and how often he should pitch, she was broken. Ironically, it took her nearly 10 years since that debut to actually win an event, against women no less.

And there was the quote that spoke volumes. "Hopefully life will be better." How sad. Money likely isn't an issue for her unless she was fleeced by her "representatives," and considering they were manipulating a pre-teen girl, that's a possibility. In sports, confidence is everything. And that quote tells you exactly how much she had left. She won to get everyone off her back. When you don't live up to the hype you created, the fall can be ugly. Her parents were stupid. Her game isn't that good. This was a fraud.
Imagine, being told you are letting EVERYONE down at age 15 because you couldn't qualify for a PGA Tour event. It's like telling the homecoming queen in Steubenville Ohio that she should model for Guess Jeans then spending fashion week wiping off the tomatoes thrown at her during her walks down the runway.

She won her first LPGA event yesterday. No one knows this today because Bill Belichick lost his mind last night and we care about that. Even Brandon Jennings scoring 55 points for a irrelevant NBA franchise will make more headlines today.
No one cares about the LPGA. But for a day they should. We owe it to Michelle Wie to pay attention and applaud her for her accomplishment. It is really hard to win a professional golf tournament, especially by age 20.
It isn't even about the money or the trophy. It's about getting her dignity back, which should have never been taken from her in the first place.

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I submit that we need more old people in sports. Old people don't care. They say what's on their mind. They have strange ideas for the future and they've decided that manners are for idiots trying impress suckers.
Titans owner Bud Adams has had a long season. His team started 0 and 6. He had to publicly question one of the best coaches in the league. He had to force that coach, likely against his will, to put in a quarterback who has shown the mental stability of Michelle Wie.
Now his team is winning again. Sure at 3-6, they probably are not going to get to the playoffs. They have zero shot of making a miraculous run to win their division and it turns out Jacksonville and Houston don't want to just roll over for them. So it's the little victories he'll have to be satisfied with. And in those little victories comes the bizarre reaction of an old man who has lost control of his better judgement.

Go to You Tube, type in "Bud Adams Bills." And there he is caught by some videophone giving the Bills two middle fingers. Waving them around as if he's sticking it to the man. Now if only someone could have caught the reaction of Ralph Wilson. What was that crazy old coot doing? Was he mooning the Titans sideline? Maybe he was giving the old two armed F You salute. Maybe he was squeezing his nipples up against a glass partition. Who knows. If Bud went with the Bird, we can only guess what Ralph and old Al in Oakland will be doing next.

Excuse of the Week

Diuretics are used to force the rate of urination. They are often prescribed for patients who suffer from heart and kidney issues. And they are abused by bulimics.
I don't know any bulimic football players. And ones with heart and kidney issues typically don't end up staying in the NFL for very long if they get there at all.
Which is why immediate stringent suspensions are handed down to players who have been caught because apparently they can also be used to mask the use of performance enhancing drugs.

So as you might imagine, those caught using diuretics have to come up with some humdingers to attempt to avoid league punishment.. What Eagles corner Joselio Hanson came up with might be the lamest excuse since the advent of the "dog ate my homework."

Hanson was given a four game suspension by the league after he gave what was described as misleading assertions as to why they were found in his system. Keep in mind the failed test happened 11 months ago. In all that time, all Hanson could come up with was Chinese food. That's right, he says he took a diuretic because he ate Chinese food.

Hanson's lawyer told the Associated Press that after Hanson "felt bloated" after he ate some Chinese food, took a pill that "turned out to be a diuretic."
And there in lies the stupidest excuse ever created.
So he ate some Chinese Food and had a tummy ache. And presumably someone said, "here take this pill, it will make you feel better." Then he takes a General Tso piss and feels all better?
Lets assume that he offered the diuretic from someone. Why would that person give him a diuretic for this? Who takes a pill without knowing what it is?
11 months to think about this and the best he could up with with was he ate some bad kung pao.

Cry Me an Agassi

Boo hoo hoo hoo. I didn't like tennis and I was in a bad relationship with a super model. Boo hoo hoo hoo hoo.. And I did drugs with my friends while I was rich in my 20's. Boo hoo hoo hoo.

Holy crap, what a crock of &*%$. I'm watching Andre Agassi spill his guts on 60 Minutes. His eyes are welling up after Katie Couric asked him how he feels about Martina Navratilova criticizing him for lying about his use of crystal meth. He wants compassion for lying about drug use to professional sports investigators. And then he said his story is inspirational. (OK, the stuff about his prep school in a crappy Vegas neighborhood is on now and I'm starting to feel bad that I'm criticizing him, but I'm on a roll and I can't stop now)

Andre Agassi is mad that his father turned his childhood into a tennis POW camp. He's embarrassed that his highly lucrative "Image is Everything," campaign was a sham. It turns out that his hair wasn't real, an interesting subject for Chris Rock to check out when he invariably does "Good Hair 2: Where the White Women are at!" Agassi had a weave because he was going bald at 17, which makes sense considering he was waking up with night sweats from dreaming about Bjorn Borg in drag.

Let me see if I have this straight... Playing tennis at the highest of levels garnering millions upon millions dollars and ultimately marrying a world wide heartthrob is depressing? So depressing you turned to smack? If this guy needs Zoloft then God help us all.
Lets take each of these "hardships" one by one. His Dad made him play tennis too much. And? Sure his father turned out to be the Mussolini of tennis, but who's Dad didn't make them do something that they found obtuse? Some Dads like Nascar, imagine that %$#^. Being told you can only buy a Chevy or being forced to change your Dad's oil every 3 months? Now that would make me angry.

So he did drugs. And? Rich person with no real job falls into year of drug use. Golly, I've never heard anything like that before. I thought all of my sports heroes were clean. Who'd have thunk it?

As for the hair thing. Now I actually do really want to know more about that. Somehow he made himself believe that he needed to get a weave made. Sounds like someone who might be interested in crystal meth.
Where do young white men go to get a weave? Who specializes in that? Is this more common then I know? Was Hulk Hogan's hair real? Is the entire 80's glam rock scene a complete sham?

As for the "hatred of tennis." Really? Then, why did he play it for so long? And why does he remain an ambassador for the sport? When Roger Federer broke Pete Sampras's all time grand slam singles titles crowns, he was in attendance. I don't know about you, but when I loathe something, I typically stop doing it. It's like he's some kind of tennis-masochist, only he wants sympathy for it. Here's reality Andre, tennis made you a quint-trillionaire. Maybe biting the hand that has fed you grapes while fanning you isn't the smartest of moves. Did Caesar say "You know what, Rome sucks. All these old decrepit buildings, who needs it?" No, he didn't do that.

Andre wants us to feel sorry for him because he was in a bad marriage with Brooke Shields. Umm, OK. Hotness shouldn't be a factor when discussing matters of the heart, but can we at least make mention of the fact that the idea of doing it with Brooke Shields every day seems to be a pretty good perk. Putting that aside, (I wonder what she looks like in your average Target nightie) I can understand that he got married too young, (do you think she ever blurted out, Image is everything while they were doing it?) and sometimes you make mistakes, (Did you ever see the Blue Lagoon, man that was AWESOME!), and you learn from those boobies.

Now he's married to Steffi Graf who turns out to be hot. So, Andre, shut your face dude because eventually not every smoking hot famous woman will be interested in marrying a meth head wearing a weave. As an aside, on "The Wire," they actually had to cast the role of "Meth Head in a Weave," but for some reason I don't think they were looking for someone who looked like Andre Agassi.

Agassi lied about his drug use to tennis officials and avoided a suspension. Ooooh, busted. Rafael Palmeiro lied to Congress. Roger Clemens and Barry Bonds lied to the FBI. In the grand scheme of liars in sports, he isn't even in the top 10. Trust me, the last thing anyone cares about is whether the tennis tribunal knows the truth Andre.

The thing I just can't figure out is why he wrote this book. He doesn't need the money. He doesn't need the respect for what he has accomplished personally or professionally. The only thing that makes sense is he is one of the most attention needy people on the face of the planet. Sniff sniff.

Zoo York My Ass

I don't hate baseball, but I really don't like it. Let me rephrase, I enjoy going to a baseball game or two particularly when it involves two teams who actually are financially trying to win. But in the summer when the other sports are on layaway, my wife gets me to watch "Brothers and Sisters" over the Rangers-Tigers series every time, all the time.
That said, how could any true sports fan turn down the opportunity to witness a World Series game in person at Yankee Stadium featuring to historical franchises? I couldn't. And therefore I did, and like the MLS Cup, I probably won't return. It's off my list forever and it wasn't particularly memorable.

It's game 2 at the new Yankee Stadium against Pedro. Freaking Pedro. The guy who became the ultimate foil for the Yankees. One of the prime poster children of the end of the Boston curse. He wrestled a 72 year old bench coach. He was a Met. And he uses Soul Glo. I couldn't ask for anything more. As of this summer, he received cursory interest in his wares. The Phillies were about the only team willing to offer a pittance to bring him back. And then suddenly, he's starting game two of the World Series?

The Yankees lost game one, i.e. they had to win, i.e. I expected the Zoo to be at it's best. The assumption was that this was the best or worst (depending on your perspective) place to witness a game of this magnitude. This is American sports history and I was going to live it, in section 119 down the left field line, row 24.

But it was wrong, all wrong. My train pulled up to the Yankee Stadium stop 5 minutes before the first pitch. I always perceive New Yorkers as brazenly pushy. There was no fight to get out the door of the train first. In fact, I saw one man in a worn Yankees cap stick out his arm offering to allow a woman to get off first. I had a friend waiting for me, therefore I felt the need to move quickly. But when I texted him about my whereabouts and that I'd "see him a minute," he texted back, "Take your time!"

Take your time? Seriously. Where am I, Kansas City? He told me to meet him at the Hard Rock Cafe in front of the Stadium. I'm rushing past the old Yankee Stadium, at this point, still erected but draped over. The streets are littered with people but the scalpers are few and far between, quite obviously nobody was tailgating at all, and the numerous passers by seemed uninterested in the fact that the game had started. I heard not one "Lets go Yankees" cheer, or anything resembling the utterances of people who live and die by the outcome of these moments.

There was my buddy texting someone, casually sipping a foreign bottled beer. Hundreds of people were in this bar. They were watching the game on television. That's right, ticketed Yankee fans chose to sit in a Hard Rock Cafe instead of their seats at Game two of the World Series.

We walked inside. It's awe inspiring. And clean. And calm. Very calm. I saw any number of what I thought were extremely brave Phillies fans walking around openly in Red "P" hats. No one said a word to them. Even in the mens room, often the genesis of some of the more vile chants ever created, not a single peep. Did someone say "Hey fag, I bet Chase Utley likes it in the ass." or "Ryan Howard is a *^&$ing *&^hole." Nope. It was more like, "Hello, Kind sir, I am finished with my urination, this WC is available for your usage. Thank you kindly for your patience."

I saw an entire row of people eating sushi. Yeah, you read that correctly. I saw a row of 40-50 something men eating Tuna Rolls at a baseball game. One even asked another if he could spare some of his pickled ginger. There were people watching a man carve some of the finest looking chops and ribs in a window. My friend tells me you can buy it here and take it home with you! Who goes to a baseball game for the butcher? Can you imagine missing that incredible two out rally because you wanted to hand pick a porterhouse?
Next to the butcher shop is a line for steak sandwiches by the same local company that I am told are so incredible, we have to get them. But the line is so long, I'm advised we should wait until the 5th inning or later when it slows down. People will wait two innings to get this sandwich. That's right, they went into the stadium and spent a quarter of the game waiting in line to get a sandwich.

When the Yankees got a hit, the fans cheered. When the Phillies got a hit, the fans sighed. A Home run by Matsui brought everyone to their feet. And then they sat down again to finish sipping their cava and ensuring the beluga caviar didn't fall off their rice paper thin crackers.

It was at some point in the 7th of a run one run game when what I was thinking was finally verbalized by a man wearing a Mattingly jersey, "What is wrong with you people, this is the $#@%ing World Series. Stand up you $%#@ retards!" Most people laughed. Some just ignored him. I for one, wondered what the hell is going on here and why isn't anyone joining this deranged freak?
Who are these people and what have they done with Jeffrey Maier? Since when did the Yankees fans go wine and cheese on us?

True story, we finally got that steak sandwich thing. Perfectly baked round roll with a stunning helping of reasonably spiced, medium rare London broil. My friend was right, this was beyond worth the wait. Two bites into this thing was when Matsui goes yard and the one time the entire row stood up in unison and accidentally, my friend's neighbor knocked his entire sandwich into the air landing on the concrete next to his feet.
He's upset, leers at the guy who obviously knew he knocked the sandwich but was trying to pretend he didn't realize it. One thing leads to another and we are involved in a full on New York moment. Both suddenly had thick Italian accents. They are calling each other "guy". The accidentor saying to the accidentee, "What do you want me to do about it guy?"
"How about you get me a replacement sandwich guy?"
And this went on for about 20 more seconds before detente and in New York fashion, no true resolution. Two people who now morbidly hate each other are rooting for the same thing in front of them. But this is New York, you get wronged 15 times a day here, you learn to let it go. Only this one didn't get let go.
After my friend left to go to the bathroom, the guy who accidentally knocked over his sandwich leaned over to me, and in perfect, no accented grammatical English apologized to me for the "mishap" and offered to buy him a new sandwich, if "I would be so kind as to tell him where I got it."
That's right, he did the right thing. By the end of the game, these two were were BFF discussing how Mariano is just soooo perfect and Jeter should really be allowed to "bang" anyone he wants to because of all the joy he'd brought them through the years. It was as Hallmark as Yankee Stadium gets.

The game ends. They have "New York New York" playing on loop through the speaker system. No Phillies fans are being mocked. No drunken Yankees fans are being dragged out by the police. One man actually went after a fan who had dropped their used ticket stub knowing that person would probably want to keep it as a memento.

This was nothing like what I expected. I went to this thing with no real rooting interest. Philly versus New York, it's like the Republicans facing the Religious Right Republicans! I went for the sake of saying I went to a Phillies-Yankees World Series and it was amazing. Only it wasn't.
What I was expecting was the electricity that supposedly defines this place. What I got was the same level of excitement as when the lettuce wraps show up to my table at PF Changs.

No parole for the Z man

Congrats Jim.. You get to stay until December.
Congrats Redskins fans, this nightmare isn't going to end..

The Redskins latest coaching conundrum might just fall into the category of cruel and unusual punishment. The Redskins wanted Steve Spurrier to pan out. His ineffectiveness was a byproduct of his own penchant to desire tee times over schematic film viewing. Marty and Dan started off trading straw hats. Three weeks later they were at each other's throat and an 0 and 5 start cemented that no matter what Marty did (and he did fix it, with Tony Banks mind you) he was out.
History has repeated itself in this case though. 10 years after his bizarre dumping of Norv Turner while the Redskins remained in playoff contention for Terry "If the owner tells me to move the couch, I move the couch" Robiskie, here was are again with the prominent voice in the locker room having been publicly neutered.

The silly part is Jim Zorn is seemingly well liked in the locker room. He's not an overbearing personality. And we've yet to hear one player come out and openly blame the team's struggles on him. In fact, we've heard more players blame Snyder before blaming Zorn (which is a one way ticket out of town). But Zorn has been reduced to Dan's best friend, and not in a human to human style of relationship.

He can call himself the head coach, but he's working within the confines of an electric fence. He can't even override the play calling of the new offensive coordinator. What head coach can't change a play if he doesn't like it? All Zorn seemingly can do is decide whether to go for it on a fourth down, challenge a play or call a timeout and unless any of those three scenarios play a role in any particular game, to be honest, I don't even see the need for him to address questions from the media anymore. He has no power to answer those either. Prime example: Jason Campbell.
Monday, Zorn said he had not made up his mind about who was going to start the Monday Night game against Philadelphia. Same evening, it leaks that the choice is Jason Campbell. It's safe to say Zorn was told about this too.

What else could the Skins do to embarrass their hand picked head coach? I suppose they could tell him he is no longer needed on the sideline and hand him a pair of binoculars and a ticket in section 412.

I feel empathy for Zorn. In a town of politicians, it isn't hard to figure out what is going on here. The problem is the ruling party not only nominated this man as their Obama, they went to great lengths to promise great things from Him. Yes we can! Now they have turned on him. It's like the Republican party blaming George Bush for the lack of WMD's. No we can't!

I had no issue with Sherm Lewis being asked to oversee the offense. Zorn's offense stinks. Now is it his fault that he has the fourth best quarterback/offensive line/receiving core in the NFC East? No. But at the very least Zorn was hired for one reason and one reason only, make Campbell a viable quarterback. Thus, the receivers should have benefitted from an improved quarterback, or so the theory goes. Peyton Manning is having an MVP year throwing the ball ot Austin Collie and Pierre Garcon for crying out loud. I think I'd take Santana and ARE over that duo. And Campbell is not better. So is that at Zorn's doorstep? For the sake of not turning him into Pollyanna, for whatever reason, Jason has not improved. Now the mind-freak executed this off-season and the lack of even a cursory phone call about a contract extension for their quarterback didn't help either. But in terms of Zorn's production as a quarterbacks coach, he gets an F on this one.
Now asking Lewis to take over the play calling when he hasn't so much as met some of the players is patently absurd. If they score on the Eagles, will the Fed Ex crowd shout in unison: "Bingo!"
Are the plays going to be relayed in as "N 72" or "I-15."

Now that this PR disaster has turned into a full on avalanche of criticism over the handling of this mess, the Skins finally tried to put an end to the dicussion of their perceived ineptitude, by announcing Zorn is safe through 2009. And yet again, they chose wrong. The blue hair in the Bingo parlor just slapped her forehead again.
This coach has been stripped of his power, attempted to be publicly embarrassed into quitting, and now he's got the backing of the organization? That's not logical. The best scenario for everyone involved was to let Zorn go and start the process for finding the next Redskins head coach. Zorn may not be head coaching material, but to publicly flog him like this is above and beyond. It's Chinese water torture for everyone involved.

And there is another way history is repeating itself in this organization. Amazingly, Zorn and Norv have been turned into martyrs. No one sheds any tears for them as their tenures end because winning with them was always a futile endeavor, but neither deserved how that tenure ended and in turn became sympathetic figures. Now how backwards is that? You know you are messed up when you feel bad for the coach that nobody believes in because you know deep down, while they are a problem, they aren't the biggest problem or even the root of the problem.

Balloon Boy Rules..

We're back America!
No more cash for clunkers or discussion of AIG bonuses. When the news cycle revolves around the preposterous notion that a boy might have floated away in a homemade balloon, only to find out this was a horribly concocted hoax, then my friends, all is well in this world.

If we aren't stalking the heads of the major car makers, but rather trying to get a snap shot of Lindsay Lohan's crotch, then our way of life is winning.
And so the fact that the balloon boy incident made headlines and potentially carries serious criminal charges tells me that America is ready to be America again.
The fascination over Jon and Kate was the initial sign that our recession was over. But the balloon boy takes the cake.

I respect Wolf Blitzer. I respect him so much I was actually feeling pain witnessing him have to conduct an hour long exclusive interview with balloon boy and his family the night we learned that balloon boy wasn't in fact in the balloon. Therefore, at this juncture the story isn't actually a story, but more a funny tale you might tell an acquaintance thinking it would impress when all it indeed achieves is freaking them out.

For those of you who hid under a rock over the weekend.. A Colorado family calls the Federal Aviation Administration to tell them a homemade balloon that appears to resemble a giant jiffy pop bag had floated away with a small boy potentially inside. For hours, every major network turned this into the OJ chase. The balloon landed, the boy wasn't inside. A manhunt ensued to look for the boy assuming he'd fallen out somewhere along the way. Turns out, balloon boy wasn't in the balloon, he was in the attic, hiding, scared about the repercussions of accidentally releasing the balloon. Then according to him, he played in the attic, took a nap and scoure dthe internet for news on Octomom and Jon Gosselin's potential relationship for all we know.

The interview was absurd. It was held in the family's living room. 3 kids ranging from 6-11 years old sandwiched in between both parents. No one really had anything to say, but Wolf is trying his hardest asking question after question, promising new details from the family following each brutal commercial break.
The kids began to get bored. Asked when he saw his brother Falcon come down from where he was hiding, Branford quipped, "Awesome."
The middle boy who hadn't said a word for 30 minutes started putting his head in his lap. When he sat back up, it didn't take long for him to start making faces at the camera, all ignored by Wolf and his family. These weren't the type of faces that a kid sneaks behind his parents back. No he was shaking his head violently side to side with his tongue hanging out so that it uncontrollably flung from one end of his mouth to the other.
When CNN came back from one of the commercial breaks, the balloon boy was missing again. No one seemed unnerved by the fact that Falcon might be in another balloon, for real this time.

Now we all know what happened from there. There they were getting chased by the paparazzi while they shopped at WalMart after pulling off a media hoax. What I couldn't quite understand was when everyone realized the boy wasn't in the balloon, that indeed the balloon would have been unable to fly had he been in it, why anyone actually cared anymore.
It's like saying my dog found a portal to travel through time only that I don't have a dog nor did he find a portal to travel through time. So why would anyone interview me after that? It wasn't news.

Now I don't care what happens from here. I don't condone the idiotic actions of this attention whore Dad. I feel bad for the balloon boy who has to live his life as the balloon boy. Imagine trying to get laid under those circumstances. But the pencil pushers can deal with what to do with the people who are responsible.
I feel free now. We're talking about the balloon boy. We're not talking about Gitmo/Foreclosures/Unemployment/Wall Street Sharks/GM/George Bush/Swine Flu and Jim Zorn. Well, almost all of those.
How did America get it's groove back? Balloon boy, that's how.