Two of the Greatest Modern Day Slights in College Football History

If everything works out as it should, Charlie Weis should be fired sometime soon as Notre Dame’s head football coach. I never really liked the guy as a coach, first off for teaching a game about discipline to young men when his obesity showed he clearly lacked it, and secondly, for getting rewarded a 10 year contract extension while in the first season of a campaign where the previous coach had similarly performed better. That slighted coach went by the name of Tyrone Willingham, an African-American coach in the college ranks that has historically seen few and far in-between.

Weis was awarded a ludicrous 10 year contract extension, that Notre Dame will soon have to pay in full to end, during his first season with a record of 5 - 2. Tyrone Willingham in his first season started off the campaign 8-0 and did not see any such contract extension. Willingham was let go after 3 seasons, and with probable due cause. Weis is in his 5th season and has performed considerably worse than his predecessor, winning almost no big games in his career and ending this season 6-6.


Now it’s no fault of Weis’ that the University awarded the contract extension, but it’s evident that there was and has been a different standard placed on both men. My sister also used to interview Willingham for the Stanford Daily while he was coach of the Stanford Cardinal and spoke highly of him. So maybe I take my heat out on Weis a little more personally, but the college football institution is still far from color blind.

The second slight is one that has been going on for the last 25 years and has hardly been noted. Norm Chow, a lifelong assistant football coach with an undeniable track record, coaching Jim McMahon, Steve Young, Ty Detmer, Philip Rivers, Carson Palmer, and Matt Leinart as their offensive coordinator AND winning three national championships in the process, has NEVER been offered a head coaching job in the college ranks. Let me remind you that last year, the two USC predecessors who followed Chow after 2005 as offensive coordinators, both of whom did not win a national championship, Lane Kiffin and Steve Sarkisian, were offered head coaching jobs, one with the Oakland Raiders and then The University of Tennessee and the other at The University of Washington. One had been on the job for 2 years, the other had been on the job for one.

Both are white.


Chow has interviewed countless times for head coaching jobs, but keeps getting passed over by men with lesser pedigrees and resumes. In 2002, Chow was given the Broyles Award for the nation's top assistant football coach. The six men who preceded Chow as the award's winner all went on to a head coaching position, so did the two assistant coaches who were awarded the following years. And unlike most other coaches, he also played in college AND professionally. He was passed over for jobs for years at BYU. He was passed over for jobs for years at USC.

He’s also an Asian-American male.

Both men have been very classy and gracious and have never called attention to race, blamed it, or glorified it. I have never called attention to it either until recently, but when the facts are evident on paper, sometimes someone needs to speak up to improve future conditions for all. While their own fates and prospects may suffer in the short term for speaking out, generations have and will achieve greater feats. They may never say it, but I will. Race was an issue and continues to be an issue. White males in their situations were given opportunities, more security, and heftier paychecks. There is nothing against those white males who were given the opportunities, but there is something VERY wrong with not affording those same opportunities to all. I’ve been on that other side looking in and rolling my eyes. I would think, ‘Oh c’mon, give me a break. Not every situation is a matter of race, color, or gender!,’ but sometimes things can be seen clearly just as they are: in black and white.

Sincerely,
The SVB

A Drinking Man's Website and a Tribute to Alcohol

I am a big fan of alcohol. Ever since I found out you could do stupid things (a la Mentos commercials, except more R rated), I’ve been a huge advocate. I remember when I was 12 years old and I committed manslaughter. When the cops came I just looked at that bottle of vodka in my hand, grinned, and shrugged my shoulders. The cops laughed and forgave me on the spot. Believe it or not, I actually didn’t start drinking alcohol until I was 21. I don’t know why. It wasn’t like I was doing well in school, excelling in athletics, or bagging the babes.

Anyhow, I began my illustrious alcohol consuming career drinking very manly drinks - drinks like Amaretto Sours, Midori Sours, and Buttery Nipples – you know, drinks that would put hair on your chest... or your vagina. I would get buzzed and giggly like a 14 year old school girl and let everyone know that I was sooooo drunk (and ready to be taken advantage of). Those were the days. (I’m still waiting to get taken advantage of, but I figure any day now. If I get drunk every day, the odds gotta be in my favor... right? Call me!)

In fact, one of the reasons I knew this thing called the Internet was going to last was when I discovered a website that would be crucial to my college existence. I mean, email was interesting, dial-up porn was nice too, but the kicker was a website called Webtender.com. Every drink ever invented, in every format and concoction ever made was there for your viewing pleasure. Don’t like your recipe for a Cosmopo... err, Long Island Ice Tea? Try about a 100 other user uploaded recipes.

One of the best parts about the website was being able to enter all the alcohol you had on top of your refrigerator, the expired juices in your fridge and see all the different drinks you could make! For me, it was pretty simple: a handle of Popov’s Vodka, some SoCo, some Ernest and Julio Gallo wine, and OJ! And just as you figured, I could only make a Screwdriver. But if you had more alcohol, the sky’s the limit! You increase the numbers and math works in mysterious ways. It’s like Geometry – you start with what you got and then you end with something else with no idea how you got there. Fascinating.

Another cool part of the website is one that’s filled with drinking games. So say you’re stuck in any part of the country where you confuse boredom with mono (Cupertino, CA), you could pick a drinking game where you watch The Simpson’s and it’ll tell you when to drink during different moments in the show! Instant fun. Try doing this with a female in the room that you’re interested in. This is what I normally do on first dates... which conversely, also happens to be the last date. But who cares? With so many drink permutations and drinking games, who needs company!?!? Just look at me... I’m... ha...ppy.


Sincerely,
The SVB

Post Script - How else do you plan to blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol if you don't embrace it? I'm with Shallow Hal on this one when he said it didn't matter what anyone else saw of Rosemary, all he saw was a knockout. Cheers, my friend! Goggles for life!

Sexual Healing and The Family Guy

I’m sick. It sucks. My eyeballs, eardrums and head hurt, but it wasn’t until I was watching I Want to Be a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader 4 that I knew something was really wrong. There was no longer that familiar tingle during all the trying workout and dance scenes that that Darth Vader of a dance instructor puts those poor women through. Not even a quick member tug (so aptly described in my doctor’s office visit here) could jolt my manhood back to life. These are trying times in a man’s life. That tingle is quite important.

For a few days there was pain much greater to worry about, but it’s something that stays with you… lingering. “Will it be like this forever!?!?” “Maybe sex isn’t that important.” “Well, now, maybe I can get to know the true me.” “I always did have a certain fondness towards Martha Stewart.” Alas, my sick libido worries were just temporary.

As I hunkered down for a 3 hour marathon of The Family Guy, who knew that I would get that sexual healing back? Have I ever told you how The Family Guy is THE funniest show I have ever, EVER seen in my life? I was a late convert too. I only started watching it this year. I laugh heartily at least once a show and I normally only chuckle, at best, towards preconceived entertainment. But, I’ve had some of my best experiences going into something with low expectations: prostitution (as a client and a career), child trafficking (also as a client and a career), and guerilla warfare in Sudan (career only). Team America and Kung Fu Hustle were two other low expectation experiences, and I was ROLLING. I highly recommend. Anyhow, back to my loins.


During hour 3 of The Family Guy, Peter brings home Jesus Christ, who just happened to be working at a record store. To prove it to the family, Jesus Christ changes everyone’s dinner to an ice cream sundae. Then Peter whispers into Jesus’ ear for a wish, and Lois’ boobs grow immensely, knocking over her sundae on the table. I had a nice delirious laugh over this. Then I paused for a moment and realized… I’M BACK!

Who knew a cartoon would be my salvation? I don’t know why that fox of a woman would be with such a dim-witted dumbleton of a guy like Peter. He’s so insensitive to her needs. So next time you need a little sexual healing, watch a little Family Guy. If that doesn't work, put on some silk boxers and start doing jumping jacks.


Sincerely,
The Silicon Valley Bachelor

Me and Dexter

I recently finished watching the first season of Dexter and absolutely loved it. This may sound odd, considering Dexter is a serial-killing psychopath, but there is no other character I have ever seen on a television series that I can relate to more. His overwhelming sense of loneliness and self-imposed exile, hidden beneath the façade of public harmony, is one that I can relate to well. There’s nothing more I’d like to do than give people a glimpse into my inner turmoil and unorthodox thought process and be done with it. Alas, it is no one else's burden but my own. But since you're reading, here it is:

I hide my genius from the rest of the world.

There. I said it. Plato, Aristotle, Socrates? Morons.

You see what just happened? I joke. Watching Dexter go to the shrink (before he kills him), I learned that I, like Dexter, joke to keep people at arm’s length. Well, with the amount of joking I do, I would say I keep people at about a mile's length.

I also learned that I cut myself off from my emotions so I don’t feel powerless. It's a good thing too, because when I lapse, I'm as emotional as they come.

And another fascinating thing, a tactic I'd been employing for years, asking people questions on top of a question they were asking me, allows me to reassert control to keep people from getting too close.

This is all true. It's odd, but I don't think anyone gets me, so I jest and I think I've become quite good at it. Make no mistake - I am no martyr. I am looking for nobody's sympathy. That would actually disgust me.

To everyone who tried to get close to me only to find a wall, I apologize if my actions ever hurt you. For everyone who tried to get close to me and thought they did.... SUCKAS!!!! No one really knows me. I'm still trying to figure it out and it can be a lonely process.

And, no, this is not a cry for help for you to pry into my psyche - that would only make me push you away sooner. This is more of a "hooray!-There's-a-fictional-character-on-TV-that-I-can-relate-to-type-post."

Near the end of the shrink episode, the shrink says to Dexter: "We all have a big, bad wolf within us. It’s about making friends with it and letting it out for a big meal every once in awhile."

My dark side can be just as satisfying as my public one. Thanks, Dex.


Sincerely,
The Silicon Valley Bachelor

A Secret Movie Code Birthday Message

Today is my friend Misty’s birthday. On Thursday, I promised her a post of exhilarating cleverness and unsurpassed intelligence. Because of my lack of foresight, considering I possess neither trait, I spent the entire weekend fretting about how or what I would write about. I could talk about myself, something I never get tired of doing when it comes to engaging with the opposite sex. I could write a poem, but then would be forced to pull out juvenile rhymes that would be tough to impress, well, a... juvenile. I considered writing something with a hidden messsage (below), similiar to Governor Schwarzenegger's to the California Legislature, but then it would feel more like a homework assignment than anything fun.


So finally, I caught a reflection of myself in a spoon and thought to myself, I'm ridiculously good-looking; I should do that for a career. Afterall, I'm tired of dealing with people whose brains have a thick candy shell. I'd like to visit places like, say, Santiago, Chile.... but sometimes all I have are these d*mn Nepalese coins. Maybe spend a weekend putting a little maple syrup in my hair, what do you think keeps it up, slick?

So, Misty, while I'm off completing myself, remember that when you're short on life's answers, the "C" is silent in ROCK, and if you're trying to get a girl undressed, never, ever forget the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588. If you get hungry, stick a few meatballs in your hands, but go for a bite with the right one first. Life isn't that hard; all you gotta do just tap, tap, taaaap it in.

I'll be honest; in life, I've failed more than I've succeeded - been busy suckin back on grandpa's old cough medicine - but, I'd much rather stick my head up a T-Bone's ass, rather than take the butcher's word for it. So seize the moment - go ahead and call someone a warthog-faced buffoon and get out of that house with all the nipple twisting that goes on there. Ergo, some of what I say you may understand, and some of them you will not. Concordantly, when life gets your beans above the franks, just simply, unlay the tracks.

Happy Birthday Misty!


Sincerely,
Kevin
The Silicon Valley Bachelor

P.S. Don't forget to bring your green hat!