In Serbia and Montenegro, men are required by law to serve a six-month term in the military before the age of 35. I remember reading about Peja Stojakovic doing it. But Vlade, he likes to party. The Serbia and Montenegro army has filed charges against Vlade, accusing him of evading the military draft. Vlade currently lives in LA, and could face a one-year prison term in S&M.

Listen, fellas… I know that the Serbia & Montenegro military has to live up to their reputation of being a fierce, fighting, machine of destruction. I get that. But it’s Vlade… what’s he going to do for you? You can’t hide Vlade in a tree and ask him to kill people.

One, he’s 7-feet tall, and doesn’t hide well… which makes him a pretty easy target, although I believe his beard is actually impenetrable by bullets. And speaking of the beard, Vlade has to shave every fifteen minutes, which is not conducive to good fighting. And when he’s not shaving, he’s smoking. That will give his position away to the enemy. That’s what Vlade does.

Just let us keep Vlade. He belongs in America, ideally, hosting some soft of a late night talk show. We’ll even organize some kind of trade. Let us keep Vlade, and we’ll send you Jeremy Shockey, and he’ll probably kill anyone you ask him to. Sound fair?

It seems like about once a year, some reporter decides they’re going to go into “The Black Hole” and tell everyone how harmless and wonderful Raider fans really are.

That’s bullshit. No one who dresses up like they do, when it’s not Halloween and they’re not under the age of 12, is going through life without severe emotional problems.

Anyway, Wayne Drehs takes the assignment this season. He hangs out all day with some fake-ass tough guy named Spike.

“Broncos today, baby, Broncos,” he says between reps. “Man, I hate them. The best day of my life was when John Elway gave me the finger.”

That’s quite an accomplishment for you, Spike. That’s very special, don’t get me wrong, but aim a little bit higher, my friend. Think of the joy you could experience if Ashley Lelie were to give you a golden shower.

By the way, I find it a little ironic that the Raiders play in McAfee Coliseum… I’m not sure if it’s ironic because a company that is supposed to keep viruses out has a Coliseum that contains so many people that have so many diseases.., or maybe they’re really doing the rest of the society of a favor, by containing so many douchebags quarantined in one specific area.

Anyway, the article goes on and on, with examples of how “Spike” is so nice and cuddly. That’s really emotional and moving, but I don’t buy it. I mean, I believe that he’s harmelss. But I’m not sure it’s cool. You’re either a tough guy, or you aren’t. You can’t dress up like a psychopath, and then get into the stadium, applaud politely, and sit down with a cup of warm tea and some lemon. This man is a fugazi.

Anyway, some more quotes from the article. This guy is “Spike”‘s brother, “Howie.”

“The Raiders, man. We’re the bad guys. The misfits. I watch T.O. [Terrell Owens] run his mouth off and I think to myself, ‘Keep it up buddy and the sooner you’ll be out here with us.’ We’re the guys that nobody wants their daughters to marry.”

Imagine that… someone wouldn’t want their daughter to marry a guy who calls himself “Howie” on Sundays while wearing a football jersey with shoulder pads while also wearing a tie. That’s normal. People do that. I think any father would be thrilled to see that coming down the aisle.

Anyway… “Howie,” as you can see, likes to call himself a bad guy and a misfit, but when he sees a Broncos fan, he goes up to him and shakes his hand and wishes him luck. Yeah, you’re a real bad guy. Real hell-raiser.

Now, I’m not saying that I want him to actually attack the Broncos fan. I don’t. I’m glad he isn’t violent. But it’s quite vaginal to be pretending that you are so mean and nasty when you aren’t. In fact, these guys wear fanny packs. But don’t judge, they need a place to keep their tampons.

This bit as about the guy they call “Violator.”

When the public address system plays commercials on the video board during timeouts he screams, “Shut your hole.” When a nearby teenager yells to quarterback Kerry Collins that he sucks, he roars his approval. “I love it. I love it,” he says. “Somebody who speaks the truth around here.”

Yes, how impressive it is to find someone who thinks Kerry Collins sucks. What a rare breed of person.

“The reputation that people hear about this place is pretty unfair,” Eric said. “But it’s not always a bad thing for people to think we’re the axis of evil. We aren’t exactly a bunch of angels. And that can get into an opponent’s head.”

No, dude… people are laughing at you. You have never heard an NFL player say he fears playing in McAfee Coliseum because Spike might yell, “You don’t play football very well” at him. There is no fear, and there is no intimidation. Any dressing up you do, pal, is for your own make-believe fantasies that you didn’t get out of your system when you were a young boy, and that’s as far as it goes. You are playing dress-up. Not winning football games.

A group of Miami football players, in particular those who live on the 7th floor of Mahoney Residential College, recorded a rap song last year. Somehow, it didn’t get a lot of play on mainstream radio stations… and as you might imagine, it is a little bit of a departure from the 1985 Chicago Bears Super Bowl Shuffle. Just for comparison’s sake, here’s Walter Payton’s Super Bowl Shuffle verse:

Well, they call me Sweetness,
And I like to dance.
Runnin’ the ball is like makin’ romance.
We’ve had the goal since training camp
To give Chicago a Super Bowl Champ.
And we’re not doin’ this
Because we’re greedy.
The Bears are doin’ it to feed the needy.
We didn’t come here to look for trouble,
We just came here to do
The Super Bowl Shuffle.

And here’s Tavares Gooden’s verse:

If your ho the one gettin’ fucked on the 7th flo’
Then you would know, cuz the bitch don’t want you no mo’
She’d tell you she met a guy who was nice and candid
I think they call him T-Good, or the “big dick bandit”
Say he had a big dick, but I thought it was random
Then he pull out the fuckin’ Magnum trojan condom
And he said, “Baby, that’s not how it begin,”
Then he brought in all of his 7th flo’ friends
She found out there was more to Miami than just a football team
There’s also the 7th floor King Ding-a-Ling
She thought 5-2 was just my number, then she realized
You multiply the bitch up, then you get my dick size
First I put it in the pussy, then in the butt
That’s all full, dog, the condom is filled up

I’m glad he threw in the part at the end about safe sex. I mean, without that, the song seems kinda dirty. In case the differences aren’t clear yet, here’s Otis Wilsons 1985 verse:

I’m mama’s boy Otis, one of a kind.
The ladies all love me
For my body and my mind.
I’m slick on the floor as I can be
But ain’t no sucker gonna get past me.
Some guys are jealous
Of my style and class,
That’s why some end up on their -,
I didn’t come here lookin’ for trouble,
I just get down to The Super Bowl Shuffle.

And a couple of more gems from Coral Gables, from anonymous players, but I’m sure someone can figure it out…

What’s ya name? (Dub C)
Whatchya do? (Trick or treat)
How ya do it? (Check the bag and find my wee-wee)
TRUE!
We the boys from that Penthouse suite, slangin’ that dick
If you ain’t ’bout the train, then fuck you, bitch
Cuz my boys gotta hit, too
Bend over and get tattooed by the boys from the 7th floor crew
You came a good girl, but you leavin’ a ho
You wonder why they call me Thundercat, but now you know
If the pussy’s nice and wet, you can believe I’mma fuck it
Oh, that’s it, baby… suck it, suck it.

Chillin’ on the 7th flo’, I gotta let these chickens know
Big Greg is in the house, and I’m fittin’ to make these hoes choke
On my balls, on my dick, then I bust a nut, quick
On her face, on her chest, stick my dick between her breasts
Come on, fellas, let’s get weird, stick ya dick up in her ear
While I’m laughin’ at these guys, a second nut all in her eyes

I could go on. It’s a 9-minute song. But by now, you’re probably starting to grasp some of the subtle differences. The Bears song was about football. The Hurricanes song is about gangbags. The chorus goes:

If your ho only know
That she was gettin’ fucked on the 7th flo’
If that bitch only knew
That she was gettin’ muddied by the whole damn crew.

You know, I find myself feeling strangely fond of this story. I love college football, I love the hip-hop music, and I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before to any of you guys… but I love gangbangs. It’s just a part of who I am. I’ve always been kind of a closet fan of the Hurricanes, and I wasn’t sure why, but now I know. We have developed a deeper, spiritual bond, achieved by a common appreciation for 7-on-1 sexual encounters.

I just can’t get mad at this. I like it. I admire it. I mean, I don’t admire the deviant sexual activity, but I just admire the nerve it takes to be so brazenly wrong and unapologetic. I also admire the loyalty to one’s friends. Never once have I thought to myself, “If I’m lucky enough to score here, I’ve gotta make sure that Danks hits it, too.” I’m not that good a friend. I guess that’s why these guys make such a cohesive team. It’s admirable. In fact, if I’m lucky enough to be married someday, and my wife tells me one day, “Hey, honey, um… I did the 7th Floor Crew”… I couldn’t even be mad about it. I love Miami. Go Hurricanes, baby. Hell, I think ABC should hire these guys to replace Tim McGraw on Monday Night Football. While Tim is coming up with rhymes like “we” and “tree”, you’ve got Dub-C up there rhyming “Dub-C,” “trick or treat,” and “wee-wee.” That is creative genius.

Anyway, if you’re Larry Coker, how do you handle this? You can’t make any kind of an official reprimand, because you don’t want to call attention to it. If he leaves it alone, it probably only gets noticed on sites like this one, and it dies before ever even having lived. If he’s going to say anything about it at all, I’d imagine it would have to be in a private office conversation like this one:

Coach Coker: You know, I really think it’s a bad idea to record rap songs about gangbangs.
Anonymous Player: You don’t like my rappin’, coach?
Coach Coker: Well, I didn’t say that, son, I think you have tremendous flow.
Anonymous Player: (big smile)
Coach Coker: But I think you should stop recording rap songs about gangbangs.
Anonymous Player: Okay. Hey coach?
Coach Coker: Yes?
Anonymous Player: Is it OK if we still have the gangbangs?
Coach Coker: Well, I wouldn’t say it’s– Well– I don’t– You know– Ah, fuck it… go ahead.
Anonymous Player: Thanks, coach. And while I’m here, I wanna thank you for giving me a jersey number that is easily multiplied to match my dick size.
Coach Coker: You’re welcome, son.
Anonymous Player: Coach, do you have any daughters?
Coach Coker: I think you should leave now.

Link comes from Miamity, via Deadspin. I can’t possibly thank either of you enough.

And I think that’s a good thing. Of course, I’d think it was a better thing if they outlawed fighting all together, but I’m glad it’s down. The game flows better, there’s more open ice, and there’s less contact… so fewer guys have reason to be brawling. And the goons, the guys who couldn’t skate to begin with, can’t be on the ice. They’re just defensive liabilities now.

So if a decrease in fighting is a byproduct of better flow for the game, then I’m all for it. Crazy old Canadan fuck Don Cherry, however, disagrees.

“Everyone knows everybody loves fights,” Cherry said. “They better start listening to the people who are at the game and pay the money than the twits upstairs who get in for free.”

If fighting was so popular, you maniacal old bastard… then more people would care about hockey. Listen, I used to be a hockey fan. I used to love the fights. But when the Olympics rolled around, I noticed that when the fights weren’t there, I didn’t miss them. Throw in a McSorley incident and a Bertuzzi incident, and I started believing that the NHL needs to reduce it’s level of violence, posthaste.

Because the more violent of an atmosphere you’ll tolerate, the more damaging it will be when someone crosses the line. Take basketball, where fighting isn’t allowed. You know, if someone crosses the line in a basketball game, you might get a punch in the face… and even that is exceptionally rare. If you cross the line in hockey, someone gets sucker-punched in the back of the head from behind, or someone takes a stick to the head. The severity of the line-crossing incidents all depends on where the line was set to begin with.

Anyway… hockey fans will not miss fighting if it leaves. And if they do, it’s a very small portion of them, and they are crazy drunk rednecks that no one’s going to miss. Watching hockey for the fights is kinda pointless… I mean, why not just watch a fight? It just doesn’t make sense. It’s like someone trying to get a good jerk on, but instead thumbing through a Penthouse, they grab a Better Homes and Gardens and hope for a good pantyhose ad.