How superficial of you.

Registering 57% of the total vote, the aesthetically-pleasing, Rick “The Model” Martel walked over the competition. It was a disappointing outcome for the fans of Don Muraco and Dino Bravo, as they idly watched their childhood heroes secure zero of the possible 37,000+ votes (Numbers not to scale). Muraco and Bravo now join David Doster and Aaron Fultz as the only men to have been shutout in a WIBR election.

A decent showing by the Mountie and Virgil helped secure their place on a future ballot.

On to the show. 

Name: Rick Martel; Rick “The Model” Martel

Real Name: Montreal, Quebec, Canada; Cocoa Beach, FL 

Quote from Mr. Perfect: “What a touch of class this guy has!”

Quote from The Model: “Andre Aggasi, eat your heart out!”

A couple of years ago, the girlfriend and I were watching TV when America’s Next Top Model came on (she had the remote, not me). So naturally, I recited the famous words on Martel’s oversized button in my best Cocoa Beach, Florida accent.

Yes, I am a Model.

“Huh?” she asked. 

You know, Rick Martel? “The Model.”

Well, she didn’t understand, and I figured that slapping the Boston Crab on her wouldn’t jog her memory either.

An aside: Wasn’t the Boston Crab the most popular move to try on your friends? Once they’re on their stomach, pull their legs up as far as they can. Piece of cake. Anyone can do it. My brother tried to end my career with a Boston Crab when I was 10, but I resiliently wiggled free and drilled him with a running bulldog.

I now visit a chiropractor once a month for a persistent lower back problem. I guess you could conclude that I won the battle, but my brother won the war.

Rick Martel arranged a contract that paid him more money than Zenk.

Obviously angry, Zenk left the company.

Martel claimed that Zenk just ‘couldn’t hack it.’

The end.

Now without a partner, Rick Martel then joined Tito Santana to form Strike Force, and the duo quickly won the Tag Titles from the Hart Foundation. Strike Force lost the titles to Demolition at Wrestlemania IV, and after Wrestlemania V, the tag team was no more. Martel was sick of tired of being sick and tired, and the Strike Force break-up (you can see the clip here) was not pretty.

I’m sick and tired of him. I’m sick and tired of carrying him around. Mr. Tito wants to carry my coattails once more. I’m sick and tired of him. I’ve been carrying him around for too long already.

After the Strike Force fallout, Rick Martel changed. He was no longer the upbeat tag team specialist we became so accustomed to watching. Between Wrestlemania and his first live appearance following the event, Martel had packed up his belongings, moved from Montreal to Cocoa Beach, and told the fans he was now a model (we thought you were a professional wrestler, Rick?). His behavior was nothing short of erratic. Not since AC Slater suddenly discovered he was Mexican during the College Years had I witnessed such a drastic transformation.

He was no longer himself. Rick Martel was no longer Rick Martel.

Anyways…

Oooh, how I longed to wipe the smug smirk off the Model’s face. The Model was everything I wasn’t. Confident. Stylish. Tan. It was the baby blue tights which, for whatever reason, looked a thousand times more feminine than Hulk Hogan’s yellow tights. It his sweater that he draped around his neck and the “Yes, I am a Model” button that he gladly pointed out each time he stepped into the ring. And then there was his cologne, Arrogance, which was worn by men, and loved by women.

“Arrogance. It’s today’s man in a classic can.”

Of course it is.

France is playing Canada, my home away from home, in the FIBA World Championships today. I considered covering all the exciting action, but then I realized that:

-I would have to watch an entire France/Canada basketball game.

-Todd MacCulloch is no longer a member of Team Canada.

-Neither is Rick Fox.

-Everyone hates the French.

So let’s do the next best thing, shall we?

Name: Team USA Basketball

Video Game Platform: Sega Genesis

Created by: EA Sports

Teams:  USA, Yugoslavia, Angola, Australia, Canada, China, the CIS, Croatia, France, Italy, Lithuania, Slovenia, Netherlands, Spain.

Team USA Basketball played exactly like Lakers vs. Bulls. The game play was slow and choppy, which was customary for basketball games pre-NBA Live. It did not offer a season mode or record individual statistics, but that was never my concern. I had a greater goal in mind.

You see, I, the outspoken and disgraced former coach of a major University, now led a young and hungry Angola team. After a career in the States marred by recruiting violations, point-shaving allegations, and *alleged* sexual misconduct with a co-ed, Coach WIBR fled the smothering vise of the NCAA and found refuge off the southeastern coast of Africa. My critics thought I took the job for publicity—a fabricated way to restore my image—but my intentions were indeed pure.

I did not join the International Basketball scene for the fame. No, no. I became the head coach of Angola for the respect. I took these undersized, scrappy Angolan amateur players and taught them principles that remained with them longer after the ’92 Barcelona Olympics. And in turn, these twelve boys—no, these twelve men---taught me a lot about myself. The following is the speech I recited in my living room before the Gold Medal Game against the United States.

Men…in that other locker room stands 12 of the most famous basketball players in the world.

*Wait for translator*

The media…these so-called pundits…say we don’t have a shot. They say we’re too small. We’re too inexperienced. They say that the winner of this game was never in doubt…The only thing in question is the margin of victory.

*Wait for translator. Some players begin to boo*

And to that I say…HOGWASH! The men in that other locker room...the people all over the world think this game is over?

*Wait for translator. The players now clamor and rise to their feet*

They think this game is over! They think we are finished! Well I got news for them! Angola has not yet begun to fight!

*Players rush out of the locker room*

Angola lost by 22 (We had no answer for Jordan) and I then quickly accepted the head coaching job at St. John’s.

This game also offered a great peak into some international NBA stars. For younger guys like me, I knew of a 31 year old Portland rookie named, Arvydas Sabonis, because he was the center on Team Lithuania. (Another prominent NBA player on that team would be former Warrior, Šarūnas Marčiulionis). Through these NBA players, you were able to classify the teams by one of three categories.

1) Bull shit

Team USA: It was pretty lame to choose them, but yeah, they were pretty good. Sans Laettner of course.

2) “Hey, look! I heard of him! I’ll just shoot every time with said player!”

Lithuania: Sabonis and Marčiulionis

Canada: Rick Fox and Bill Wennington

Oh, you want to dominate with another random Bulls center? May I present…

Australia: Luc Longley

(The ‘Roos also had my favorite Seton Hall player not named Terry Dehere. That is of course, Andrew Gaze).

Croatia: The late, great Drazen Petrovic, Toni Kukoc, Zan Tabak, Dino Radja

Yugoslavia: Vlade Divac

Netherlands: Ric Smits

(Am I forgetting anyone, readers? I feel like the CIS had a known player, but I couldn’t find the rosters online).

3) “Damn, I never heard of anyone on this team.”

Angola, China, the CIS, France, Italy, Spain, Slovenia. Italy, specifically, played like a bunch of flaccid weenies.

By the way, France just held on to a 5 point victory over Canada. Where were you when your country needed you the most, Rick Fox?

At the risk of losing 50% of WIBR’s readership, I will make the following confession.

I am an unabashed Notre Dame Football fan.

Oh, don’t judge me. Don’t you dare judge me. Do you like Duke Basketball?  Have you ever eaten at the lunchtime buffet at Scruples? Did you download the Katy Perry album on ITunes because “It’s catchy?” Everyone has their own naughty little secret, and this is mine.   

My first memory of Notre Dame Football is of a four years old WIBR seeing the ultra-fast and ultra-religious, Raghib “The Rocket” Ismail, for the first time. It was love at first sight. Not even the Convicts  at the University of Miami could slow down The Rocket, and little WIBR, barely potty-trained in 1988, walked right into a National Championship. I didn’t witness an actual ND loss until November of 1989 when “The U” thumped the Irish down in the cesspool known as the Orange Bowl.

(After that game, I crawled underneath my dining room table and cried for hours. I also pulled the same pathetic stunt after the ‘phantom clipping call’ in the 1991 Orange_Bowl  against Colorado. Now when Notre Dame loses, I simply shrug. When you play national powerhouses like Navy and UCONN, losses are to be expected).

In 1990, Penn State defeated Notre Dame and a tombstone magically appeared on our front lawn overnight. It read, “Penn State-24 Notre Dame-21.” Who goes through the trouble? Did these cretins not realize that a six year old lived at the house? I woke up, looked outside my window, saw the tombstone, and thought grandma died or something. It was very traumatic.

Now, I take a lot of shit about Notre Dame from my girlfriend. She hates Notre Dame because they ruin her Saturdays. Perhaps if I can debunk a few assumptions about Notre Dame, maybe she, and maybe all of you, will hate Notre Dame just a little bit less after today. Hopefully, you can channel your hatred towards a more worthy cause.

Like USC.

#1: Notre Dame is like Duke Basketball and the New York Yankees.

Except that Notre Dame hasn’t won *anything* in the last twenty years. People, me included, hate teams that are perennially good. The following is Notre Dame’s record in the past ten years:

2009: 6-6

2008: 7-6

2007: 3-9

2006: 10-3

2005: 9-3

2004: 6-6

2003: 5-7

2002: 10-3

2001: 5-6

2000: 9-3

http://cfreference.net/cfr/school.s?id=143&offset=0

Notre Dame’s record in the last decade: 70-52, a .573 winning percentage. That’s the college football equivalent of hating the Anaheim Angels. But I’m not naïve. I get it. I realize that the comparisons to the dreaded Yankees have little to the with the Irish’s two championships during the Hoover Presidency, and more to do with a little concept known as OVEREXPOSURE.

Is ND Football overexposed? Of course…ND has their own channel that is solely dedicated to the fluffing of their willies. Perhaps this is my bias showing here, but I don’t think ESPN focuses much on Notre Dame (Lou Holtz is one man, not the entire network), and honestly, why would they?

1)    ND rarely appears on ESPN.

2)    ND has been mediocre for the better part of two decades.

If you tune into NBC every Saturday and subsequently vent to your wife or your dog about the overexposure of Notre Dame, well then I don’t know what to tell you. I despise the Yankees, so there’s really no reason for me to watch and get upset over an in-studio interview with Kevin Maas on the YES Network.

Just like Con Air, there will always be an Iowa/Wisconsin game on TV for you to watch instead.

#2: The firing of Ty Willingham was racially-motivated.

Wait, what? Surely, you are confusing Notre Dame with Alabama, Tennessee, Ole Miss , Auburn, Mississippi St., South Carolina, LSU , Arkansas, Georgia, and Ole Miss again.

Tyrone Willingham was fired after three years because ND had some lousy teams. Charlie Weis *wasn’t* fired after three years, because the administration stupidly gave him a gazillion dollars after ND lost to USC in 2005. Don’t confuse a lack of fiscal responsibility with racism.

On an unrelated note, Tyrone Willingham went 11-37 as the head coach of Washington.

On a related note, the ND program is on its 5^th head coach since Lou Holtz resigned (6, if you include Kent Baer who coached one crappy bowl game), yet the mediocre Notre Dame Basketball program has employed some guy who willingly wears a mock turtleneck for over a decade.  It’s been a rough decade.

Do not buy a used car from this nightclub owner.

#3: The movie, Rudy. Explain.

Hey, you still like the Eagles even after the lousy, Invincible, went to theaters, right?

#4: Notre Dame always has these lofty pre-season expectations that they never come close to achieving.

What do you mean?

Notre Dame is going 12-0 this year solely because they have an easy schedule.

For the other side of the discussion:

http://www.google.com/search?sourceid=navclient&ie=UTF-8&rlz=1T4DKUS_enUS310&q=why+i+hate+notre+dame

So the girlfriend and I have some college friends visiting us this week.

And the other day, while I worked from home, my friend’s wife put on the Soap Network. Now, I’m not familiar with this Soap Network. If I’m not watching the Phillies, I usually focus on programs dedicated to fast cars, fishing, or home repairs.

I’m a man’s man, you see. My limited free time is spent burping or fixing home appliances, so when my friend’s wife began watching some old 1990’s show called, Beverly Hills 90210, I was confused to say the least.

What do those numbers stand for?

Wait, the girl in the bikini…what’s her name…Donna? She’s supposed to be a virgin?

Whoa, whoa, whoa! What is Kelly Kapowoski doing on this show!?

Ok, so I admit. I was mildly intrigued. This Beverly Hills show, although directed towards a female audience, had caught my attention. I took a small break from my work and put my feet up. In this particular episode, the gang was partying in some tropical resort

“I hate this one,” I said casually. “Ray Pruit throws Donna down the stairs and the only witness is the can-never-be-trusted, Valerie.”

Ooops.

Busted.

Name: Ray Pruit

Occupation: Singer/Songwriter

Love Interest: Donna Martin

Watershed Moment: Throwing Donna down the stairs

Let’s suspend reality for a second, and collectively pretend that Tori Spelling played a teenage girl saving herself for marriage.

Her character, Donna Martin, was sweet enough. She had a relationship with David Silver, but David mucked things up by hooking up with some floozy on the side. In David’s defense, however, he was on a high after playing the keyboard for a Babyface concert, and every child of the 90’s knows what a good R & B song does to a man’s hormones.

(Before there was Viagra, there was K-Ci and JoJo, ladies).

So Donna found comfort in the mysterious and tormented arms of Ray Pruit. Ray was a struggling musician, whose character ranged from boring to bland---but he played guitar, which apparently can mask many personality deficiencies. When I give my future son, Chase, ‘the talk,’ I’m going to explain that concept to him.

Want to pick up some girls? Here’s what you do, Chase. Save some money from the job I’ll force you to get at 15 and get guitar lessons. Learn how to play, “Your Body Is a Wonderland” and you’ll never sleep alone again.

So the fans of 90210—my sister, my brother and myself---bought into the Ray/Donna relationship. Was he lame? Sure, but at least Donna was happy, and honestly, a spoiled California girl’s happiness was really all that mattered.

Until Ray got controlling that is. He had a temper. He didn’t like Donna’s provocative clothing (But Ray, “I bought this bathing suit for you,” Donna told him), and then during one fateful argument on the staircase, Ray shoved her.

Now, it’s one thing for my siblings and me to turn on Ray Pruit, the character. It’s a whole other story when the entire nation turns on the actor, Jamie Walters. It’s not far-fetched to say that this guy’s acting and music career died on that staircase.

Let’s go to Wikipedia.

On his Beverly Hills, 90210 role as Ray Pruit: "At first he was like this sort of like the underdog he was this guy from the wrong side of the town, who didn't fit in with the Beverly Hills kids but he had his music and he was honest and all this stuff. And then they started twisting him into being like this abusive evil boyfriend. I was like you either have to change the character or you have to let me off the show, because I'm going out and I'm like trying to sell tickets on our tour, and there's like teenage girls out there who think, like they really think I'm an abusive guy you know, and they'd hold up signs saying like 'leave Donna alone' and that's like so not what I wanted". – 1999

"People were so attached to those characters, and then when one of those characters starts abusing one of the other characters, people do get mad at you. I didn't throw Donna down the stairs but my character did. I kept having to remind people of that, you know...that it was a show, I played a character." – 2003

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jamie_Walters

Don’t fret, Jamie. We’ll always have “Hold On.”

Fortunately for my neighbors, we had company over last night. If not, I would have blown a gasket after the horrific display by minor league replacement umpire, Scott Barry. Just like after Monday’s loss, when the first-base ump refused to ask for help, Scott Barry put his bloated ego above all else and mimicked, and then ejected Howard.

This isn’t the first time Mr. Barry interjected himself into a game.

(Courtesy of www.thefightins.com).

We didn’t lose the past two games because of the umpires. The Phillies have scored over two runs in a game just once in the last 5, but the boys in blue aren’t helping.

I just want some accountability from Scott Barry. Do you think Howard should have been ejected, Scott? Fine. Do you think Ryan didn’t check his swing on the third strike? I don’t agree with you, but whatever. That’s your opinion.

But…could you at least acknowledge that maybe, JUST MAYBE, you let your ego interfere with your decision-making process?

http://mlb.mlb.com/video/play.jsp?content_id=11346569

Check your bloated head at the door, Scott. No one paid to watch you ump.

And one final thought.

For all of the bad publicity that Philadelphia fans receive, could the national media at least acknowledge the fact that support/crowd reactions like this is pretty cool? I really dug the “Oswalt” chants before his final at-bat.

I have begged WIBR for a guest column for some time now, and hoped to continue in his ongoing review of low to mid card WWF wrestlers of the 1980’s and early 90s. I asked for the Fabulous Rougeau Brothers, but instead, got saddled with the Brooklyn Brawler.

 I’m a stickler for continuity so let’s keep WIBR’s format going:

Name: The Brooklyn Brawler (aka Steve Lombardi, Kim Chee, Abe “Knuckleball” Schwartz, Most Violent Player, Kangaroo, Doink the Clown, Red Knight)

Real Name: Steve Lombardi

Billed from: Brooklyn, NY

Finishing Move: None, he never finished

The Brooklyn Brawler is a long time WWF “talent” that has fought under a variety of names throughout his career, but primarily as either the Brawler or his real name, Steve Lombardi. The Brawler fell into a small but exclusive group of WWF wrestlers that were “named jobbers”, guys who lost every match but you knew them because they kept coming back for more. 

You know the list. 

Besides Lombardi, there was S.D. (Special Delivery) Jones, Rene Goulet and Iron Mike Sharpe.  All have a special place in my heart, although S.D. will forever be known as a sellout in MDB’s household for changing his hometown from Philadelphia to “Antigua in the West Indies.” Not to mention, SD was knocked out for something like 2 hours, leaving Andre the Giant to fend off Ken Patera and Big John Studd while they cut his French afro.  However, I digress.

The WWF euphemistically calls career jobbers like Brawler, “enhancement talent,” although I always thought that term was more appropriate for a pretty, flat-chested girl.  You know, “That girl is pretty hot, although she sure could benefit from some enhancement talent.”

The Brooklyn Brawler spent most of the 1980’s as Lombardi or the Brawler and was almost always putting good guys “over”.  He was loud and boisterous, and certainly had a lot to say, but usually ended up on his back quicker than Lindsay Lohan.  As a result of all the Brawler’s hard work, he was awarded a feud with the Red Rooster (Terry Taylor) and even obtained the services of the best manager of the 1980’s, Bobby “The Brain” Heenan. 

This was clearly the dumbest and most pointless feud in WWF history.  It’s essentially the wrestling equivalent of the Royals and Pirates playing all their games on network TV in prime time. Heenan’s career never recovered, although one could argue that his excellent managing career came to an end when he was stuck riding back to the dressing room at Wrestlemania III in one of those little wrestling cars with Andre the Giant. WIBR has searched for one of those cars on eBay so he can ride around his apartment, but his search has yielded nothing thus far.

The Brawler has always been a colorful character and wore his New York roots on his sleeve.  His outfits usually included ratty jeans and a ripped Yankees shirt, and while that hardly seems like an admirable quality, Brawler was primarily representing his team during a period of time when Mel Hall and Jesse Barfield were roaming Yankee Stadium, so his loyalty was admirable. In a shocking turn, however, the Brawler briefly became the Boston Brawler in 2004 after the Yankees blew the ALCS to Boston. He joined millions of other bandwagon Boston Red Sox fans, who prior to 2004, thought Yastrzemski was some type of Jewish deli mystery meat.

In doing additional research on the Brawler, I was reminded of some of his many other aliases.  He briefly played deranged baseball player Abe “Knuckleball” Schwartz in the 1990’s and although Abe never actually played in the majors, he still became the Jewish people’s second most popular pitcher of all-time behind Sandy Koufax and ahead of that kid from the movie, “Rookie of the Year,” who went on to boink Tara Reid in “American Pie,” who I’m just going to assume is Jewish.

The Brawler also played Kim Chee.  Kim Chee was the masked handler of the feared Ugandan headhunter, Kamala.  This was a bit of information that I did not need and left me a little disappointed. I spent many a night in the 1980’s unable to sleep after having nightmares of an out-of-control Kamala attacking me and eating the neighborhood pets, while my family looked on in horror.  If only Kim Chee\Brawler had better control over this Ugandan headhunter, then maybe my neighbor’s dog, Rodney, would still be here today.

Nevertheless, Brawler remains the image of the career jobber.  I feel his role in the widely popular WWF was never quite appreciated.  If only he had been from Canada.  At least then he could have been known as the second greatest Canadian athlete of all time, right behind Iron Mike Sharpe.

When I was 16, I asked my friend to make a purchase for me on his eBay account. I wanted my very own copy of The Wizard, starring the venerable, Fred Savage. For the record, I already owned a copy of the cult classic on VHS. Unfortunately, I didn’t record the first ten minutes, and during a commercial break, I switched over to ESPN and missed another chunk of the movie.

(I still remember the highlight shown on Sportscenter. The Braves beat the Dodgers in LA, and Steve Avery got the win. Yes, I’m a complete loser).

Through my friend, and his eBay account, I made a cautiously optimistic bid of $12.

Winner, winner, chicken dinner! (I was the only bid, believe it or not). I was now the proud owner of The Wizard on VHS, without any commercial/Sportscenter interruptions. I was stoked. For the rest of that week, Ice Cube sang the first line of “Today Was a Good Day” over and over in my head.

I only knew the first line.

(The only 1990’s rap songs I knew verbatim were “Ice, Ice Baby” and “Whoomp There It Is.” If you wanted me to sing three verses of Blues Traveler on the other hand, well, now that was a different story).

My VHS tape was mailed to me a few days later from England and…

Did not work.

I found out three years later that English and American VCRs weren’t compatible, but I was 16 at the time and didn’t know any better.

So I blamed my buddy. And eBay.

“You guys dicked me over, dude. Eff you and your corrupt online auction.”

I shunned eBay, and the fact that my crazy aunt would send twenty forwarded emails a day warning me of the dangers of online shopping only further cemented my decision.  You know the ones. They’re always in all caps.

FWD:  ONLINE PIRATES WILL HACK YOUR PERSONAL INFORMATION

SEND THIS TO 57 PEOPLE OR THE HACKERS WILL STEAL YOUR IDENTITY AND EAT YOUR PETS.

So of course, I forwarded these emails to all of the people on my AOL buddy list. What choice did I have? Who knew what this English scoundrel was plotting? He knowingly gave me a dud copy of The Wizard; clearly he was capable of anything.

My stance on eBay and online shopping softened over the years, however. I had purchased plane tickets online, and even my own web domain and host.

(As an aside, I want my very funny and entertaining girlfriend to start her own blog called ‘beerflavorednips,’ because you readers don’t make fun of me nearly enough in the comments. I need a second site to criticize my every move. I’ll keep you posted on BFN’s developments).

I gave eBay a second chance this weekend and fell in love. I found vintage t-shirts that satisfy the hipster  in me, including a Manute Bol jersey shirt that should be arriving in 7-10 business days. I stumbled upon Ben Rivera baseball cards (Upper Deck and Stadium Club), which hopefully will be autographed by our dear friend once we locate him.

And…I’m happy to report that no items populated when I searched for, “Where Is Ben Rivera.” This means that the 4 (5?) owners of WIBR t-shirts haven’t attempted to turn these rare collector’s items into a profit.

It’s not about the money for you guys. I dig that.

Quick congratulations to Branyan's Bat Boy. B3’s idol, Russell Branyan, hit three home runs the past two nights; including a 4^th deck shot that is now the longest bomb ever recorded at new Yankee Stadium.

I texted B3 for his thoughts, but he was too busy sculpting an ice luge in the image and likeness of Branyan’s Pectorals to respond.

 Of course you do. You know I.R.S. well, because you’re all a bunch of tax cheats.

Name: Irwin R. Schyster (I.R.S.)

Real Name: Mike Rotunda

Billed from: Washington D.C.

Finishing Move: The Write-Off

Childhood Memory:

I’m on the living room floor, crying. 

Mom: “Why is your brother crying?”

Brother: “I gave him the Write-Off.”

Mom: “Why did you do that?”

Brother: “Because he didn’t pay his taxes.”

Aside from a gimmick based on a Philadelphia meter maid, what other occupation could generate the hatred and contempt like the tax man, Irwin R. Schyster (I.R.S)?

The I.R.S. character was both simplistic and successful. Schyster wore those obnoxious suspenders. He walked down the aisle with a briefcase (which no doubt held important and classified W-9 forms), grabbed a microphone and said something along the lines of:

“It’s a well-known fact that the people of Milwaukee are the most egregious tax evaders in the country.”

What!? BOOOO! This is an outrage! BOOO! My aunt is from Milwaukee! She is a good citizen! She pays her taxes! BOOO! How do you get off insulting the good people of Milwaukee like that!?

People hate to be called cheaters and cheap.

Irwin R. Schyster called the fans both. What I.R.S. lacked in customer relations, he made up for in keen observations. He was the Santa Claus of tax evasion. He knew who was naughty, and he knew who was nice. Admittedly, my brother and Irwin were right. I didn’t pay my taxes and because of that, I deserved whatever punishment came my way.

“Mo-ney, Mo-ney, Mo-ney, Mo-ney, Mon-eeeeeeeey……”

I.R.S. paired with “The Million Dollar Man” Ted DiBiase to form the tag team, “Money Inc.” These two were fantastic. I will boldly claim that they were the best ‘bad guy’ tag team of the last twenty years, and it’s not particularly close.

(Who else could even be considered? The Nasty Boys? The Quebecers? It’s Money Inc. in a landslide).

Observe their greatness.

Summerslam 1992: Money Inc. vs. The Legion of Doom

DiBiase is working on Hawk. Money Inc. chokes Hawk with the tag rope. Animal protests and tries to climb in the ring. The ref stops Animal. While the official’s back is turned, I.R.S. illegally enters the ring and slaps his own hand, signifying a tag. Animal and the fans protest, but how can the referee possibly disallows the tag?

I mean, after all, the official heard the tag.

That’s just heads-up tag team wrestling by Money Inc.

After DiBiase legit hurt his back, “The Million Dollar Man” was force to retire from active competition. I.R.S. then enjoyed a fairly successful stint as a singles wrestler, but his evil tax man gimmick left him fairly limited in the angle department. I.R.S’ storylines lacked much complexity. For example:

“He also engaged in a feud with Tatanka, who he accused of failing to pay a gift tax on a sacred headdress.”

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mike_Rotunda)

This feud lasted six months!

An aside: Reading this literature on the gift tax makes me think that I.R.S. had a valid complaint against Tatanka.

We’ll end our little ode to I.R.S. with a public service announcement. Remember this video before you try to write-off your new flat screen TV as a business expense.

I saw the movie, Changeling, yesterday.

I can’t be the only one who wanted to strangle the imposter child, right?

Damn, I hated him. This little boy was not Walter Collins. Walter’s mom (Angelina Jolie) knows it. His circumcised wiener knows it. My girlfriend knows it, and I, despite being distracted by a bowl of Oh’s! (Cheerios for men on a budget), know it.

‘Fess up, you little snot.

Seriously, there aren’t many child movie characters who I hate more than little Arthur.

But there is a couple.

#3: Smalls, The Sandlot

Choose your reason.

Was it his unhealthy obsession with his Erector Set?

Was it the fact he thought Babe Ruth was a female?

Was it the way he seemed just a little too smitten with Benny “The Jet” Rodriguez?

(And listen, no one admires a five-tool athlete like WIBR, but gosh, Smalls, you practically eye fuck “The Jet” for ninety straight minutes).

Personally, I hate his obtrusive hat with the super long brim. How much sun do you need to block, Smalls?

#2: Robert “Rocky Jr.”, Rocky V

What a bird.

So Rocky Jr. was a rebellious punk who wore a denim jacket and had his ears pierced. My friend, and part-time contributor, MTC, came back from Spring Break with his ear (and naval) pierced, and “punk” and “rebellious” weren’t exactly the words we used to describe him.

Rocky Jr. was just a boner. He was neither interesting nor tough. I only wish Tommy Gunn slugged him instead of Paulie. Junior’s only redeeming quality was his ability to transform himself from a six year old in Rocky IV to a twelve year old in Rocky V---all in the span of one tidy Christmas break.

#1: Charlie Conway, The Mighty Ducks

Coach Gordon Bombay would have you believe that Charlie Conway was the heart and soul of the Ducks.

Well, Bombay was a money-hungry drunk.

Here’s a reality check.

#96 was a kiss ass, who was couldn’t play, couldn’t skate, couldn’t finish, and who used his single, attractive mother as a pawn to become the team’s first-line center. What a dirt bag. Conway was also insubordinate. As a member of District 5, he was given specific instructions to flop by the boards.

“I won’t do it Coach, I won’t cheat.”

Oh, for frick's sakes, Charlie. Get off your high horse.

Here at WIBR, we like talent. To paraphrase ESPN’s Keith Law, “Do you know how much ‘grit’ and ‘heart’ is worth? Exactly zero dollars.”

Charlie Conway wasn’t the best player on his team.

(He also wasn’t the worst. I’m looking at you, Averman).

The best player distinction belonged to #99, Adam Banks.

Now Banksy had legitimate talent.

Wayne Gretzky::: NHL 

Adam Banks ::: Minnesota Pee-Wee Hockey.

He was a perennial 50-goal scorer, who just had the innate ability to find the back of the net. I loved watching Banksy play. Adam’s only, *only* flaw was his inability to stay healthy. He suffered injuries in D1 and D2, which had to raise a red flag for all the scouts in attendance during the Junior World Championships.

Charlie Conway was a decent captain and an overrated player---a Becky O' Shea, he was not.

Let’s see what the friends of the program think.

“The kid from The Toy was a dick.”

-The Girlfriend

“I nominate Karin Kinsella, the little girl from Field of Dreams. She needs to learn her place and stay out of it.  She choked on a hot dog and ruined Archibald Graham's career. He only got to step in the batter's box once. Stupid girl.”

-Maturation of Tim Couch

And a rebuttal from Missing Detmer Brother.

“Archie Graham said, and I quote,

‘Son, if I’d only gotten to be a doctor for five minutes, now that would have been a tragedy.’

Karin Kinsella helped Dr. Graham realize his true destiny after he finally got his at-bat (technically still 0 for 0 since it was a sacrifice fly), and she also saved the farm with her brilliant business plan. 

MTC doesn’t know anything.”

-MDB

Phillies: 10 Dodgers: 9

You come back now, Broxton, ya hear.