Some tremendous Mets coverage from BlogNYC… actually, I’m not sure it qualifies as Mets coverage. It may just be Alyssa Milano coverage. But she was at a game over the weekend, and she was both bra-less and, well… evidently excited to be there.

It could also be that I was just looking for an excuse to use the “Trim” tag, because it had been too long. More here. Thanks to BlogNYC and to Deadspin.

When a hazing ritual on a men’s team involves nudity and sex acts performed on one another… that’s just weird and bizarre. But when it’s a college women’s soccer team… well, that’s a completely different story.

Meet the Northwestern women’s soccer team. From BadJocks.com…

At first, we thought they were pretty much like others we had found: underage drinking, girls in degrading outfits for the occasion, faces written on with marker, etc. Then we turned the page and found the freshman not only blindfolded but with their hands tied behind their backs with athletic tape. On top of that, the girls are seen doing calisthenics and what appears to be forced drinking, performing skits that appear to require simulated sex acts, and then the losing skit team being forced to perform lap dances.

I should say before we go any farther, in all seriousness… forcing freshman girls to give guys lapdances… that’s not cool. In fact, what Dr. Susan Lipkins says here on BadJocks.com about this incident is, while it might not be much fun, absolutely right. I don’t think there’s any gray area there. Forcing anyone to do anything sexual as part of a hazing ritual… well, you can’t do that.

But… they did do it. And so that we can all learn from the experience and work towards bettering ourselves and making sure we can all develop a more positive worldview… well, here are some pictures. Wherever it goes from here… well, that’s up to you. Sinner.

Petra Nemcova, a supermodel who survived the giant Tsunami in Asia by clinging to a tree, attended the Kentucky Derby this past weekend. Also in attendance was sucky Baltimore Ravens QB Kyle Boller… Boller, who evidently has much more game in this situation than he does on the football field, got her number, and was sitting with her the next day.

My compliments to Kyle Boller. Petra Nemcova is as beautiful as Kyle Boller is terrible. That’s an amazing pull. And I’m thinking this may be the last opportunity I ever have to compliment Kyle Boller, so… I wanted to take advantage.

The report comes from the New York Post (via Ben Maller). He also reportedly invited her to come watch him play a game in Baltimore… and I guess if she survived the Tsunami, she should be able to get through a Ravens game, though I don’t know why anyone would want to put her though another traumatic experience so soon.

Tragedy has struck on the Oregon State campus… they are discontinuing their cheerleading team. The administration has decided that the risk for injury (and thus, financial liability) is too high, and the Beavers will cheerlead no more.

Well, that’s just great. Who is the star quarterback supposed to fuck now?

You know, if it was any other university, I wouldn’t complain. But look at the dedication here. The girl in the right so strongly believes in the Beavers that she is about to show the world how delicious and enjoyable a Beaver can be. How can you not support that?

There may be some kind of a cheer squad next season at Oregon State that has people on the sidelines in khakis and sweaters, holding signs and actually, get this, leading cheers. I think that’s the wrong way to go. I understand the risk of injury thing, but that’s no reason to start covering up skin. You can still give the people want they want, and here’s my suggestion:

Put up a pole.

There’s no injury risk there unless you lick it when it’s too cold outside. And the girls can still give the people what they came to see, they can lead cheers just as effectively, and perhaps they’ll go home with a few extra ones in their pocket. Or g-string.

But I am, on a slightly serious note, sorry for the Oregon State cheerleaders. They work hard at what they do, they take pride in it, and now it’s gone. There’s just as much value in working hard at being a cheerleader as there is working hard at football, or soccer, or chess. This has gotta be a bitter disappointment for them.

So let’s get these girls a pole.

Otherwise, how is this young lady supposed to continue showing off her team’s mascot?

Stumbled upon this today…

During last night’s game, UCLA cheerleaders were talking shit to Joakim Noah about his unsightly grill.

“I mean, it hurts when you have beautiful girls out there just telling you how ugly you are and stuff. I just had to focus on the game. When somebody is screaming all that stuff at you, you know, the best thing I could do was just blow a kiss by and maybe they like me.”

I just have a problem with cheerleaders talking smack… I mean… seen and not heard, bitch, you know? You’re a cheerleader. You shouldn’t B-E so aggressive. I realize that this is going to sound sexist as hell, but… these are my views of cheerleaders, not women.

Cheerleaders are there to be ogled. That’s just the way it is. They do not actually lead cheers. They do not get players fired up. They do not get fans fired up. I know they work hard at what they do, and that’s great… but there’s not one person in that arena who gives a fuck about the crispness of their routines or the creativity of their choreography. They’re just there… and they wouldn’t be there if they looked like Janet Reno (who, don’t get me wrong, is a handsome woman). But they don’t serve any kind of a real purpose, and I wish it wasn’t that way, but it is.

So I have a problem with them talking shit to an active participant in the game. I loved Noah’s response, and I think he’s got a great attitude, but I think he should’ve said something more like, “You know what, toots, in a year or two, I’ll be making $4 million a year in the NBA. A few years after that, I could be making $17 million a year. What’s your boyfriend going to be doing? Oh, date-raping you again and then letting you cry yourself to sleep? Yeah, that sounds great, too. Now get the fuck out of the way, whore.”

But maybe that’s just me.

My advice to owners of any convenience stores that happen to be near Camden Yards in Baltimore… stock up on the profylactics. Anna Benson owes some nay-nay to a lot of Orioles employees, and some of them are probably going to want to strap up twice.

Kris Benson has evidently cheated on her. That’s what she’s saying, anyway… and this seems like a lot less fun now. In case you’ve forgotten, or haven’t been sufficiently reminded in the past few hours… Anna once vowed to fuck all of Kris’s teammates if he ever cheated on her.

“I told him, ‘Cheat on me all you want.’ If you get caught, I’m going to [have sex with] everybody on your entire team,” she told Howard Stern on his radio show in 2004. “Everyone would get a turn.”

This was better when Kris was a normal, average, dude, and Anna was the crazy, attention-starved, loathsome whorebag. But if he’s the one cheating on her… well, that makes him the douchebag. I don’t care how crazy she is, you married her, dude. That locks you in. They are now co-douchebags… and as irritating as I find this woman, he’s the bigger douche. And yhere are no winners when douchebags marry each other.

One other little note from the article…

Anna Benson’s lawyer filed the divorce papers yesterday in Atlanta, where the couple has a home.

The papers say the seven-year marriage is “irretrievably broken,” and does not mention what a source called the X-rated real reason for the breakup.

“We chose not to go that route at this point,” said Jeffrey Bogart, her lawyer.

What? Why wouldn’t they go that route? Restraint and discretion do not seem like the Anna Benson route to go… you know this is coming out sooner or later. If it was something that Anna Benson was reluctant to talk about in public, Kris Benson was doing something real freaky. There may be a young woman near Baltimore’s spring training camp who has some Louisville Slugger splinters in a sensitive area.

Kris Benson, seemingly normal guy, is probably standing in the middle of a muddy creek right now, thunder and lightning illuminating the sky behind him, dripping wet, arms stretched to the sky, rain pounding his face, tasting the sweet taste of freedom. Anna Benson, crazy whore, has filed for divorce. Wherever he is, I’d like to buy Kris Benson a drink.

No longer does he have to sit there and look embarrassed when his wife shows up to a Mets Christmas function dressed like Santa Claus, if Santa Claus was a Thailand hooker. Look at Kris in that picture there. He’s thinking, “You fucking cunt, look at you. Look at your giant fake tits. There are kids here. This is a Christmas charity function, not a Tijuana bar crawl. Have you no shame? No class? And why are your teeth so fucking big? God, I hate you.”

I just hope for the sake of everything holy that there’s a pre-nup involved. I doubt there was. Kris, almost literally, pulled Anna down off the stripper pole and married her. If there was no pre-nup Anna Benson will now start the decline from online poker endorsements to straight up porn. If every other fastball Kris Benson throws, however, goes towards maintenance and upkeep on her tits, then she won’t have to.

Anyway, um… maybe I shouldn’t be saying any of this. There are real people involved, there’s a child involved, and these are real people going through real things, but… I dunno, I’m just having a hard time picturing Kris Benson being unhappy right now.

So, yeah. Best of luck to everyone involved.

And for more on the history of Anna Benson, I suggest looking at Deadspin’s Anna Benson section here.

SI.com’s On Campus section is reporting that Matt Leinart was recently spotted hanging and “canoodling” with Paris Hilton. I’m not sure what “canoodling” means, but if you do it with Paris Hilton, you should probably take a trip to the free clinic afterwards.

Now, who knows how much of this is true, or what Leinart and Paris were actually doing… but if he’s romantically involved with her at all, that’s not good news. His agent has to step in here… there’s a reason Brian Urlacher got rid of her so quickly. By the way, do they check for STDs at the combine?

I wouldn’t care if Vince Young got a negative 7 on the Wonderlic, needed a golf cart to finish his 40-yard dash, and hired Ryan Leaf as his career advisor, I’d still take him over anyone dating Paris Hilton. You just don’t want a quarterback with gonorrhea.

And if you’re Matt Leinart, why bother? There are few women aren’t earth who wouldn’t make their ass readily available to Matt Leinart if he so desired. You don’t need this. You can choose from plenty of women out there who have not made a career out of sucking cock for night-vision cameras. That seems like the better option.

I thought about commenting on this earlier in the week, but by the time Monday rolled around, it seemed like the moment had passed… and if I had taken the time then to point out the suckiness of Tennesse’s Candace Parker’s dunk, it would have seemed just mean-spirited and sexist. And I try to hide the fact that I’m mean-spirited and sexist. Sometimes.

Anyway, I think Jason Whitlock nails it today, when he says that they kinda weren’t dunks, and even if they were… big fuckin’ deal. Not that I’m not happy for Candace Parker. She seemed excited about it, it got her some attention, it got her team some attention… that’s terrific. But do those dunks do anything for women’s college basketball? Do they do anything to make you want to watch? Are you putting up Candace Parker posters in your room because of them?

I dunno. All the glee that eminated from the women’s basketball analysts on ESPN seemed extremely starbury to me. They were patting themselves on the back for doing something sorta flashy, but something that ultimately has no impact on anything.

I could not agree with Whitlock more. To promote the dunk, to use it as an example of how great women’s basketball can be, is just dumb. “We can dunk, too!” is not a selling point. Sell the fundamentals. Sell the selfless play. Sell tits if you want to. But trying to get people to watch women’s basketball because of the dunks and athleticism… that’s like trying to get people to watch the Masters because of the cultural diversity.

In case you were wondering what it’s like to be the wife of a head coach at tournament time (and you know you were), here you go. I don’t really have much of an opinion on the subject myself, but I’ve always thought that Jim Boeheim was punching way out of his weight class with his wife Juli.

Now, that’s not the most flattering picture of her (unless you’re into teeth), but… Juli Boeheim is a fine looking older woman. I’ve got to think that would be valuable in recruiting. She’s a walking advertisement that says, “Come to Syracause and marry someone way more attractive than you are.” And it’s been working out quite well for Carmelo Anthony.

MJD is back on Deadspin today. Feel free to join me over there… I may be back later in the day with something, I’m not sure. If not, though, enjoy this dirty-looking ice dancing picture, and wonder aloud what it might be like if the organizers of Vancouver 2012 changed it to “ice-fucking”:

Today, of course, is Valentine’s Day… and for those of you without significant others to spend the day with, it is also Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition day, and the issue has been known to get many a young boy through an otherwise cold and lonely night.

And I think it’s important that this exists because, as sports fans, it’s important for us all to be kept abreast of swimwear fashion. When I get up in the morning, I check the top sports headlines, the NBA boxscores, and any new trends in contemporary bathing attire. It’s important to me.

I just checked it out… and this season’s “in” style? Whorish. Many bathing suits this year are apparently coming without tops, requiring women to wrap their arms across their chests. Inconvenient, yes, but whorish… and whorish is everything this season.

And if you’re interested in taking your whorosity to the next level, Molly Sims sports a $30 million diamond bathing suit, the perfect look to say, “I have a grossly inflated view of the value of my pussy.”