By Jon…

Today kinda feels like Christmas morning, but not in a good way.

Did you ever have one of those Christmas’ (Christmases?) where you asked for some really badass expensive toy that you knew you probably weren’t going to get, but you held out hope until the last conceivable minute?

I can’t remember one offhand, so for the purpose of this article, I’ll just pretend like I’m an 9 year old girl who’s been asking for a pony for the last three years and still hasn’t gotten it? It’s a stretch, I know, but bear with me.

Right off the bat, it’s tough to rap one’s head around being a member of the opposite gender. But forget about gender, this allegory isn’t about doodles and vajayays, it’s about feelings of disappointment and not getting what you’ve always wanted even though you’ve been a good and loyal person for those five years.

Think about it.

Alright, now that we’re all on the same page:

Goddamnit, Mark Cuban. Can we get a fucking pony already?

I’m getting really tired of this. We’ve been waiting for a pony for three years, and all you’ve given us is a horse who’s a couple of years from ending up in a Jell-O box or as a violin bow.

(the horse analogy has run its course. Jason Kidd is the future Jell-O and/or violin bow)

I’ll speak plainly now.

Free agency season opens today and you need to do something crazy. Dirk’s Championship clock is ticking like a time bomb, and we don’t have much time. You need to make a splash, Cubes, can I call you Cubes?

I don’t want another bullshit Antoine Walker trade, I want a significant move, one that gets the media talking. One that makes people say, “You have to consider the Mavs a real contender in the Western Conference after this acquisition.”

We need this. We’ve been good all year. For the last 3 years, we’ve been good. And time’s running out.

Any day now, we’re gonna figure out that Santa’s not real, and that miracles don’t happen in one night, and that we’ll never win that sonofabitch Championship that eluded us three years ago.

You’ve got one more year. Only because I hear that next year’s ponies are supposed to be really great.

I’ve already got two names picked out and everything.

If he’s just an all around good pony, I’m gonna call him D-Wade.

And if you really love me, and you get me the best pony in the entire world, I’m gonna name it King James.

By Christian…

So, little Bizzoteers, your friendly Bizzo staff (or at least two thirds of us) took our first business trip!

That’s right.  Our Editor-in-Chief, Toph, and his grossly underpaid and equally sporadic writer, Christian (that’s me) took a little jaunt to CitiField to watch the Cards and the Mets try not to get too distracted from all the effing advertising plastered all over this dumpy field to actually hit the ball.

Sadly, the Bizzo’s profits (all four dollars) weren’t even enough to buy us a sip of lukewarm beer.  And it’s not like we can expense this mother.  Expense it to what?  The Bizzo business credit card?  Actually, that’s a brilliant idea.  Toph/Jon-we each need a Bizzo business credit card.  Just post the #s and expiration dates below when you get them.  No need to send mine on to me.  Hell, it’s not like any of our loyal Bizzo readers would try to sabotage our savvy business model anyway and swipe that number.  How far would a $2.50 credit limit get them anyway?  Plus, you know how with Capital One you can design your own background?  Think about how great one of our hot chicks header pictures would look on it.  It’d be like an Amex Black card, only way sexier.

Anyway, where were we?  Oh yeah, we were at that great cankersore on the gaping maw of Queens, CitiField.  Hold on to your butts and settle down with a cold beer, because this is gonna be a long one.

To begin, Toph and I met up in the Big Apple and hopped on the 7 train to head out to the game.  We should have known what was in store just by the crowd that accompanied us.  Among many other heinously ugly sights, we witnessed a young Asian couple sprawled over eight seats together, playing grabass and pretending to be asleep.  I’m not sure if these two were professional contortionists or what, but the angles they got their bodies to bend to so they could feign slumber were truly remarkable.  It was like a weird, sleepy, Asian Cirque du Soleil.

As we walked down the steps from the train, we were greeted by CitiField in all of its splendor.  And by splendor, I mean a weird sort of this-doesn’t-belong-here feeling, as this ramshackle, characterless monstrosity rises up from a bed of freshly laid and already Mets-stained parking lots, surrounded by rows upon rows of dilapidated autobody and muffler shops.   You remember back in the 90s when you played SimCity and you tried to put a stadium or something near a residential neighborhood and the game would be like, “the citizens don’t want this here, it’s a bad idea?”  That had to have happened here at some point.

Doing our best to ignore the slummed-out backdrop, Toph and I entered the front gate.  We took a gander at the courtyard, if that’s what you want to call it, and couldn’t figure out for the life of us why the hell the whole thing was dedicated to Jackie Robinson.  That dude didn’t play for the Mets.  Ever.  Our best guess is that CitiField higherups were trying to capture some of that great man’s legacy and thereby make their field suck less.  FAIL.  On the upside, the souvenir shop (one of about 294 in the confines of the park) sells Mets soccer balls.  Of course they do.

Completely unimpressed by things so far, Toph and I made our way up a giant escalator to nowhere and emerged onto the mezzanine level.  And guess what?  More souvenir shops!  It’s a good five to ten minute walk before you find any food.  But don’t worry, the concession people look like monsters so you’re glad to pay the 15 bucks for a shitty dog and a pisswarm beer and get the fuck out of there.

Now, I’ll say that I bought the tickets on Stubhub and they were moderately priced.  Not great, mind you, like for SF’s ballpark where you can spend 5 bucks and sit first or third base side, but not outrageous ($30 a piece, I think).  And after taking 18 more disjointed escalators and arriving at our seats just below Heaven, we found out why.

To our great surprise and joy, Toph and I were seated on one of the upper levels in the outfield in a fucking wind tunnel.  Seriously.  We tried to eat a few peanuts and every time the shells would fly out of our hands and cover all eight fans in front of us.  Secretly, I really relished the chance to coat Muts fans with my snack debris.  But it made it damn hard to get any of those little salty gems into my mouth.

And I know what you’re thinking.  “So, you’re in a wind tunnel.  Who cares?  You’ve got a great view!”  Well, yes.  We had a great view of the opposing stands and the blinding amount of flashy, ridiculous advertising smeared all over the fucking place.  I mean, there’s nothing quite like looking at the scoreboard and seeing, on either side of it, exactly where I can purchase used construction equipment.  But as for the actual field?  No, no, my friends.  From where we were sitting, you couldn’t see left or centerfield.  At all.  And apparently this is a design feature they’ve incorporated into the entire park as when we moved around later on, you’ve almost always got an obstructed view no matter where you sit.  Stellar planning.

When Toph and I started laughing about this and wondered what the hell happened to a ball hit into the leftcenter gap, we were greeted by an atrociously ugly guy in front of us turning around and saying, “Just look at the scoreboard!  Plus, you can tell what happened by the fans reactions!”

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.  The fans reactions?!?!?!  It’s tough to imagine a fanbase that’s more brainwashed and offensively unattractive.

We toughed it out as best we could but, before long, the beers started running low and Toph and I got a little frightened at the airplanes that fly within arm’s reach of the bleachers as they’re coming in for a landing; so much so that it looks like every single one is going to crash land into the bullpen.  On the plus side, your beer is at least 50 percent jetwash in about five minutes and that shit gets you wrecked.

So, we finally gave up and tried to find better seats.  After maneuvering around the seating Nazis (they’re like the fucking ticket-checking Gestapo they’re so serious and numerous), we finally found seats down a level that were back behind third base.  At least from here you could see the outfield, though now any grounders up the left side were totally occluded from view.  But, to our great joy, we were sitting right in front of the handicapped section and a charming couple of retarded St. Louis fans (seriously, they were actually retarded – Toph even called them that to their faces a few times) managed to blanket us in a warm covering of their own peanut shells.  Except this time, it wasn’t the wind or jet engines’ fault.  I’m not sure either of these two crippies actually got any peanuts into their droopy mouths at all because they all ended up down the back of my shirt and chest-high in our overpriced beers.

Needless to say, we gave up on these seats, too, before long, though it was to Toph’s great dismay that we had to abandon our view of the one and only hot Asian chick in the entire place.  For what it’s worth, she was jerking off her boyfriend the entire time and he looked like Ryan Church with cerebral palsy, so it wasn’t really that big of a loss.

At this point, we don’t know what the hell’s going on in the game.  And, of course, it’s not like we care because it’s the Mets, for shit’s sake.  No one except the 98 inbred fans within the confines of this stadium from hell cares what the Mets do, and even these fans don’t really give a shit.  They’re too busy figuring out how best to tuck their t-shirts into their jorts.

But we finally figure out, through sheer intuition (because it’s not like you can see the scoreboard through all the advertising), that this is a close game and maybe we should watch the finale.  So, we actually make the 53 minute escalator-riddled trek back up to the seats by the hot Asian chick.  To Toph’s delight, she’s deep-throating a hot dog and has mustard all over her pouty little lips, so it kind of made the trek worth it.

And we arrived in time to watch K-Rod get Pujols to ground out with the bases loaded and all the Muts fans in the place revel in one of the few moments of joy they’ll find in the rest of their pathetic, orange-and-blue-stained lives.  The plus side of this was that our two retarded friends were still there and continued showering us with their peanut shells, so we didn’t really have to eat for the rest of the night.  On the downside, I’m now officially allergic to peanuts.

Perhaps the best part of the night, though, was walking away from that bunghole of a ballpark knowing now that I’m totally justified in my unmitigated hatred of the Mets.  Their fans are all gremlins with tech holsters.  Their stadium is like a bad, overpriced infomercial.  And best of all?  Fernando Tatis, mister retread himself, batted cleanup.  Gotta love a lineup that couldn’t hit its way out of the NL East if it tried.

The only thing that made the entire night even mildly redeeming was the fact that we went to Rudy’s in Hell’s Kitchen, got hammered on extremely cheap beer while sitting in booths made of duct tape and watching the toilet in the men’s room boil over like the Trevi fountain, and then went to another bar close by and met a retired Atlanta Braves relief pitcher.

All in all, my incapacitating hangover let me know the Bizzo’s first business trip was a complete success.

Now if someone would just find a way to get one of those 747s flying overhead to crash into CitiField and put it and everyone in it out of their misery, all would be right with the world.

A guy can hope…

(Editor’s note: This podcast is for you, Michael… the photo is for me…)

Toph and Jon bring on Toph’s mom to discuss the Death of Michael Jackson, and Bizzo NBA expert, Eman to talk about the sad state of the Mavs and the NBA draft.

And as usual

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By Toph…

Alright, there’s a reason there’s been radio silence from Bizzo land, and it’s my fault. Eventually I’ll teach Jon and Christian how to post their own articles so that Biz production doesn’t come to a complete stop when I’m out of town. Speaking of which, I’m currently on a Virgin flight to New York writing this on airplane wifi. It’s genius.

I’m going to New York for the last leg of my whirlwind American Advertising Conferences tour, which started with Santa Monica, then Boston and now New York in 3 consecutive weeks. The goal of this trip, besides closing as many deals as possible, was to go to as many baseball games as I could. The planned order was a Dodgers game, a Red Sox game, Rangers - Giants game back home and ending it with a Mets game (since the Yankees are away) with Christian. The Dodgers game was a tossup, because I had to decided between that and one of those uberfancy dinners I’m oh so lucky to go to. I went with the uberfancy dinner.

The Red Sox game in Boston on Wednesday, however, was on. There was only a couple hurdles we had to get over. 1. We didn’t have tickets. 2. There were 3 of us going. and 3. It was the 500th consecutive sellout at Fenway, which was an MLB record. Tickets were going to be fucking expensive and hard to come by. After messing with dirty scalpers, we found a ticket office that had 3 together. $100 per ticket later, we were sitting with the Boston season ticket elite, and drinking. The game was OK, the Red Sox won, and we got a pretty neat 500 consecutive sellouts baseballs (here), which my friend, Ron, promptly placed on eBay. I’ll update with photos of the game as soon I as I get them on flickr. I do have one from my phone (here).

Game 2 was the Rangers against the Giants at AT&T park on Friday. Dibs got me tickets for my birthday, and I was pretty pumped to see the Rangers in San Francisco. And, our seats were incredible. Dibs got us seats right behind 1st base dugout, which was packed with Rangers fans. Funny hanging out with people who when asked where they’re from all said Dallas. Then, I asked where they’re really from and got, “Garland, Rockwall, Plano, Richardson.” Genius. Rangers lost, and have now lost 10 straight in San Francisco, which makes no sense. I did get a sweet photo of Kinsler (here).

Tomorrow night, Christian and I will attempt to go see the Mets take on the Cardinals. We’ll see if we get tickets.

____________________________________________

In other news, Jon and I will get back to podcasts after this week, when I return from my trip.

By Jon…

In my four year’s as a loyal reader of Bill Simmons, I have never once been mentioned in a mailbag. Never received an e-mail response. Never illicited any kind of response out of him whatsoever.

That may change very soon, my friends.

I finally stumbled upon a topic that no one has ever talked about, and that he should have an interest in.

The nonexistence of technical fouls in any NBA video game ever.

Technical fouls are an integral part of the NBA, and this postseason has proven that. They can swing momentum. Remove big-time players from big-time games. Fire up the crowd. And yet, not once, have they even tinkered with the idea of putting technicals in the game.

There are only two possible explanations for why game developers havent done it yet.

1. It’s too tough to do. I haven’t the slightest idea how video game programming works, so I’m not gonna bang on guys who have done nothing but make kick-ass games and help me waste years of my life.  That said, it might just be too hard to do. Technicals are completely subjective, for the most part, and that would be tough to teach the AI refs to do.

2. This is honestly why I believe it hasn’t happened: David Stern. He’s so overly image-conscious with his league, especially after the Ron Artest Melee, that I wouldn’t put it past him to refuse the NBA license to any game that added a hard foul option.

But, come on, man, tell me having a hard foul option wouldn’t be the most bad ass addition to a video game since Madden’s ‘Hit-Stick’. Think about it: You’re playing as the Mavericks. You’re in a hard-fought home playoff game against the hated San Antonio Spurs. It’s late in the fourth quarter. You sub in Jerry Stackhouse. You give him the ‘Sweep the Leg’ call. Stackhouse airballs a three-point attempt from the top of the key. Duncan grabs the rebound, throws a long outlet to a wide-open Manu Ginobili. Stackhouse is the only guy within 10 feet of him. You turbo Stack to just under the basket, hit up on the Right Control Stick (aptly named the Technical Stick) and…

SKADOOSH!!!

Stack goes flying, Ginobili hits the deck hard. He’s writhing on the floor, maybe a little blood can be seen on his face, but he’s definitely hurt. The crowd’s going batshit. Stackhouse gets thrown out of the game, and hell, the series, for all I care. Ginobili tries to make the free throws, but can’t, and immediately checks out of the game. You’ve successfully eliminated the Spurs 2nd or 3rd best player, and you go on to win the series.

I don’t think it makes for a sound plan in real life, but when have video games been about what works in real life. I’ve been running the same four plays in Madden for almost 15 years, and they always work. That’s not real life. It’s exploiting AI for all its worth. And that’s all I really want to do.

I want to make little Varejao’s head bleed everytime his flop-haired ass tries to get a breakaway dunk on me.

They have fighting in the hockey video games.

Am I asking too much? I don’t think so.

And that’s why I need your help Sports Guy. You know people. You’ve talked to David Stern. You can get the lowdown on this. And, best case scenario, you get the Technical Stick added to NBA 2K12.

I believe in you, Sports Guy. Make it happen.

(Editor’s note: You should watch this, if you haven’t heard the glory - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dldyuDZAQLQ)

By Christian…

Rappers like to talk about how it’s nice to have a gal who is demure and presentable in public, and then absolutely nuts in the sack.  It’s the best of both worlds.

But what about if you have a lady that doesn’t know how to keep the two worlds separate?

What if your girl is a little too prissy in the bedroom?  Worse yet, what if your lady’s a little too crazy in public?

Well hello there, Michelle Larcher de Brito.

De Brito has been causing a stir around the women’s tennis community because, well, after every ball she hits she makes a noise that sounds like she’s power fucking it.  It sounds kinda like what you would imagine Jenna Jameson’s finishing move would sound like if she were a Mortal Kombat character.

Of course, de Brito’s opponents don’t like it much.  And tennis is a pretty snobby sport to begin with, so you know those old farts don’t like some little tart like this coming in and sexing it all up.  How dare she?  Women’s tennis is a game of masculine lesbians, not hot little Portugese babes coming in and turning us all on with their guttural ejaculations, dammit!

Well, Michelle, from the rest of the non-homosexual tennis viewing populace, I’d like to thank you for being so vociferous.  Every time you smack a forehand and follow it with a noise that makes me think you just broke my penis in half, I wonder how I got through all those years of watching tennis before you.

Sure, we had Monica Seles.  But she was kinda dike-y and then went and got herself stabbed and shit.  No one likes that.

You, my little Portuguese firecracker, make my loins light up like a Christmas tree when I watch you pulverize balls and scream out in ecstatic victory over them.  And I just wanted to say thank you.

Now if you and Daniela Hantuchova could find a way to make it happen with each other, and maybe slip a little Mary Pierce in there to boot?  You’d win my heart, you would.

http://straightsets.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/05/29/when-does-a-shriek-go-too-far/?scp=1&sq=tennis%20scream&st=cse

By Toph…

Now that the Cleveland Cavaliers have been unsurprisingly knocked out of the NBA playoffs again, you have to wonder what LeBron is going to do now. Despite the onslaught of Nike campaigns (How quickly do you think they’re going to build a Dwight Howard Superman puppet?), the Cavs didn’t have a very favorable match up against the Magic. If you watched the series, then you saw why. If you didn’t, then why are you reading a story about it?

If you read everything on ESPN, SI and other sports blogs that are just trying to emulate us (seriously…) then you’ll likely read that Cleveland has a lot to do to get LeBron a supporting cast. But, come on, who else are they going to bring in? Wasn’t Mo Williams supposed to be that number 2 savior? He was an All-Star, right? They had everything that a team is supposed to have. They had 2 solid 3-point shooters, a decent center, an All-Star point guard and a dirty work forward. Ideally, that team is supposed to win. The issue is, in my opinion, that when a player goes to, or plays in, Cleveland they know it’s LeBron’s team. So, they’ll back away from the ball to let him work. Of course, this leaves the whole 1 on 5 scenario, which never works.

The obvious solution, which is really only obvious because I crafted this article to be that way, is for Cleveland to send LeBron elsewhere. Dallas? You think so, too? Well, I think that’s a brilliant idea, and I’ve gotta ask, why not?Is there a more perfect scenario for everyone involved?

Why not Dallas? In Dallas, it is not LeBron’s responsibility to win for the whole state. In fact, he wouldn’t even be the city’s most visible star, leaving that still to Tony Romo. He’d have more TV appearances than with the Cavs, and he’d have guys around him who are so close to an NBA Title. He’d have an owner who would not only pay him incredible amounts of money, but also have enough money left over to keep the team intact. He’d play with another MVP in Dirk, and have a guy like Jason Terry as the 3rd scorer. Sure, they’d likely have to lose Howard, Stackhouse, Kidd and probably the entire bench, but, um, so what? I’d even be more than willing to wait till 2010, and lure him away from New York.

Tell me you wouldn’t shit your pants when the opening roster of the 2010 Dallas Mavericks is J.J. Berea, Jason Terry, LeBron James, Dirk Nowitzki and Erik Dampier. Then, seeing Bass, Singleton, Green and Hollins off the bench. Pick up a couple of other bench guys in the draft and you have an amazing fucking team. No way anyone beats them. Ever.

Make this happen… I’m such a fucking homer.

This week the Bizzers have their first ever Live Biz Video Stream, and you probably missed it. They also discuss the NBA Playoffs, baseball and fucking monkeys. (Fucking monkeys may not be discussed.)

And as usual

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By Jon…

I’ve spent the last few days wondering why Sports doesn’t quite get me fired up like it used to. For awhile, I thought it was a phase. When it continued, I thought it was because I was getting older and my priorities shifted or something dumb like that. When it still persisted, I figured I was a lost cause, and I couldn’t find joy in anything anymore.

That was until I turned on the local news.

The entire Sports portion of the news was devoted to the Spurs and UT spring practice. Really? Already?

I know it sounds crazy, what with the interwebs and cable television and all, but I think my interest has waned because I despise the only professional team within 150 miles of Austin. (That would be the Spurs for the geographically impaired readers)

Then I got to asking myself, why doesn’t Austin have a professional Sports team?

So here’s my case for a pro team moving to Austin:

First and foremost, Austin is a rapidly growing city and metro area. The surrounding suburbs are growing like wildfire, as evidenced by the growing traffic problems all over the city. It also has the healthiest job market in the country, according to some Forbes.com top ten list I read online a few weeks ago. The unemployment rate is one of the lowest in the country even in the tough economic climate.

Second, its home to one of the largest universities in the country with top tier teams in almost every major sport. The locals love and adore the Longhorns, so you know there would be a healthy interest in whatever team came to town.

Third, there’s tons to do in Austin. This would help draw young, big name players who are looking for a cool place to live and work. It’s also a safe, family friendly town, which might also help draw top-tier talent or wily vets with families to think about. The public schools are solid and there are plenty of high-end private schools.

Top that off with the fact that the ESPN guys love coming here. Kirk Herbstreit lists Austin as one of his favorite towns to visit with the Gameday crew. And Bill Simmons lists Bergstrom Airport as one of the most efficient airports in the country.

Now I bet you’re thinking, “Ok, Jon, those are all sound reasons to bring a team to Austin, but what about the logistics and feasibility of your plan?” Well, I’m glad you asked.

First, we should narrow it down to which Sport could actually succeed in Austin:

Football- No go. Texas is a Dallas Cowboy state, and Austin is a Longhorn town. The feasibility of putting another football stadium in Austin would be almost out of the question. Football teams jump town much more infrequently than other professional leagues, and as far I know, there aren’t any teams floundering so badly that they would be skipping town any time soon. Frankly, there’s not enough love in this town for two football teams, and the new team would suffer immensely against the draw of the Longhorns. So football’s out of the question.

Hockey- Do I even need to give a reason for this one? Hockey’s having enough trouble keeping the teams they’ve got. They overexpanded into the South about a 20 years ago. There’s just not enough interest. People love nice weather too much here to go sit in a cold ass arena in the middle of April.

Baseball- Again, baseball doesn’t move teams very often. The suburb of Round Rock already has a minor league team (More on them later). The pro teams in the state are perrenial losers, and baseball isn’t expanding any time soon. Plus, MLB is going to a hit major wall in the next few years, with the scandals, outrageous contracts, and floundering economy. Mark my words.

Which brings me to my frontrunner…

Basketball.

Putting an NBA team in Austin has some very strong pros and a couple of very strong cons.

I’ll start with the pros:

1. A short-term arena wouldn’t be an issue, the new team could use either the UT arena (though it might create some scheduling conflicts in the latter half of the NBA season) or the convention center in the short-term, while a long term arena deal was hammered out by the team owner and the city.

2. Believe it or not, Austin is actually larger, population-wise, than 18 of the NBA’s current markets (population numbers are of cities Proper, i.e Boston proper, not the metro population). Seriously, Austin is bigger than Memphis, Charlotte, Boston, Milwaukee, Seattle (R.I.P. Sonics), Denver, D.C, Portland, Oklahoma City, Atlanta, Sacramento, Cleveland, Miami, Oakland, Minneapolis/St. Paul, New Orleans, Orlando, and Salt Lake City.

3. Of all the major sports, the NBA is the only league with a team, the Memphis Grizzlies, floundering bad enough to necessitate a move. The Grizz have never been very good, in Vancouver or Memphis, why not suck in Austin? At least people would come see them. They’ve been to the playoffs three times, and swept in the first round three times. They traded their franchise player, Pau Gasol, for pennies on the dollar, and are looking to cut even more money as the economy continues to tank. Now, the Grizzlies aren’t actually for sale or looking to move at the moment, but it’s on the horizon, I can feel it. Plus, the Grizz are already in the Southwest division, so the League wouldn’t have to worry about realignment

4. Austin loves a hometown hero. VInce Young’s been sitting on the bench for the last year, and still you can catch more Titans games than Texans games on a Sunday afternoon. Two recent UT alum, Kevin Durant and D.J. Augustin, are playing for crappy, small market teams already, and both would be available for free agency in a couple of years. I’m just sayin’.

5. Dell Computers is an Austin-based company that I’m sure would be in the running for the naming rights to the new arena. The fans could nickname it, “The Dell”. Hell, they could name the new team “The Farmers.” And visiting teams would have to deal with “The Farmers in the Dell”. Tell me that wouldn’t be hilarious and catchy. Everytime the Farmers one, Dell could hand out promotional laptops. Okay, so that’s a little absurd, but it leads into my next point.

6. Austin prides itself on homegrown businesses and eateries. A new arena would allow some locally famous restaurants to expand their brand. They could sell Home Slice pizza in the concession stands, put some Fireman’s 4 on tap, and hand out coupons for free Torchie’s Tacos if the Farmers score 100 points in a win. That also, sadly, leads into one of my two major cons…

Cons

1. Austin is already witnessing a lot of backlash from the rash of high-rise condominiums being built downtown. Frankly, I don’t know who the hell’s moving into them. Seems like they should fill one of them before they start building 5 more. The locals are flipping out because they believe Austin’s starting to lose that home-y feel that’s been so integral to its image for so long. The idea of a large arena going up anywhere near downtown might result in a full-scale riot. Parking’s already miserable downtown. And the local businesses might balk at the idea of going too corporate by placing one of their restaurants in a big, corporate arena.

2. Can you imagine trying to go to a Farmers game during the week of SXSW? The airport would burst at the seams. Traffic would be a nightmare. Parking would again be dreadful. I don’t even want to imagine what Sixth Street would look like. They’d need to go one of those Circus Road Trips like the Spurs do every year.

3. The NBA league office would most likely be the biggest problem with getting a team here. David Stern is very careful about what happens in his league, and ultimately the decision would come down to him. I could see his concern in putting an NBA franchise so close to two, really three other franchises. Dallas is only 200 miles away, San Antonio’s 100 miles away, and Houston’s another 150-200 miles away, too. Combine that with Oklahoma City being just a few hundred miles north of Dallas, and one could see how it would be a bit of logjam. The main problem would be the Spurs. They’re incredibly close, and for some damn reason, 3/4 of this town seems to actually enjoy watching them win a title every other year. God, I hate the Spurs. Is there anything they don’t ruin?

4. I’d have to choose between being a Mavs fan or a Farmer’s fan.

So, dems my plan, like it or lump it. The pros and cons alike. Frankly, I think it should happen. If they held an election to decide whether to build a new arena here, I’d totally vote for it. Anything to get an NBA team here.

And anything to get them to stop talking about the damn Spurs.

By Toph…

So, I don’t really have just one thing to talk about, so I thought I’d throw it in all one post.

Is that cool?

Have I mentioned that I’m going to run a half-marathon? Yeah, because I am. 13.something miles. I’m trying to update my runs regularly on Twitter.

Is anyone else hoping for a Magic - Nuggets series? This is purely because I want to punch a hole in Nike’s ad campaigns. Granted, I’m a strong supporter of Nike, but come on, these Kobe - LeBron ads are going a little out of control. What would the NBA do with a Magic - Nuggets series? Is there any way this is going to be possible? God, I just want Dwight Howard to reject the shit out of the effin’ Birdman.

Seriously, if Rachel Alexandra was in the Derby, we’d be seeing the first Triple Crown winner in years. Big Brown is shit compared Rachel Alexandra. How much does that suck?

Is it sad that we’re already gearing up for Bizzo Fantasy Football? I couldn’t be more excited and it’s May. I’ve also got the #2 pick and Romo as my keeper. Romo and Micheal Turner… Dangerous. Thank God the Falcons added Tony Gonzalez.

Speaking of, am I the only one hoping Michael Vick makes an amazing comeback? Jon thinks he should play on the Browns. I agree.

We never did really get into the Mavs, and the Dirk… umm… situation. I don’t really know what else to say… except… YOU CAN GET ALL THE VAG IN DALLAS YOU DUMB SON OF A BITCH.

Hey how badly do the Cowboys need a wide receiver? I read a report the other day talking about Roy Williams, Patrick Crayton and Sam Hurd. I almost started crying. Can they trade Greg Ellis for a receicer? Will TO come back, please? It has basically made me rethink my keeper.

The Rangers are in first place? I can’t help but to think this is because of me. While I’ve always (and secretly) rooted for the Yankees, we broke up this year. Why? Well, Mark Teixeira is the main reason. Followed by Nick Swisher, letting Giambi go and CC Sabathia. Ugh… So, I went back to my roots. It’s working out well for both of us, despite the Rangers getting swept in Detroit.

And, some quick bulletpoints because it’s Friday.

-Stay home, Farve.

-Really, Raiders? You didn’t pick Crabtree?

-Mike Tyson looks incredible in The Hangover.

-Follow The Bizzo on Twitter, because both Jon and I are writing now (and, can I mention that we were one of the first sports peeps on Twitter?)

-One of our writers, Christian, is actually writing for a national magazine, so we’re sort of legit now.

-9 times out of 10 when you see an Asian chick playing pool, good things will happen. But, there’s always that one time…

-I love you Jeets.

Late.