Schloss Monday Morning Sports-Blog

OK, I forgot to post the Sports-Blog last week.

Was traveling. No, golfing.

Lots to catch up on.

Jeremy Schaap, on ESPN's "Outside the Lines," did an engaging report that the New York Jets and Giants are tied for the worst record in the NFL over the last five years.

The NFL tolerates its largest TV market having its worst teams.

Well, the J-E-T-S can J-E-R-K O-F-F. They haven't been good since I sold hot dogs at Shea in '69. And the Giants? They're still "Jones-ing" for a quarterback.

Speaking of NY quarterbacks, who's the best ever: Eli or Joe Willie?

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Sen. Bill Cassidy (R-Louisiana) says people in his constituency need AR-15's to hunt.

Feral pigs.

Yeah, what a legitimate hunting ambition that is. What, are the pigs wearing body armor?

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Guys from the LIV golf tour, sponsored by Saudi blood money, were allowed to play in the U.S. Open this past weekend.

Outside of the advance blood money, what famous trophies are they playing for?

The Terrorist Cup?

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Speaking of LIV, who was that guy with the mustache from that tour shooting 11 over and missing the cut at the U.S. Open?

Oh yeah, Phil Michel$on.

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Finally, these "rules" of golf:

* Golf balls are like eggs - they're white, they're sold by the dozen, and a week later you have to buy more.

 

* The pro-shop gets its name from the fact that you must have the income of a professional golfer to buy anything in there.

 

* It's amazing how a golfer who never helps with house or yard work will replace his divots, repair his ball marks, and rake his sand traps.

 

* Did you ever notice that it's a lot easier to get up at 6 a.m. to play golf than at 10 to mow the yard or go to church?

 

* It takes longer to become good at golf than it does brain surgery. On the other hand, you seldom get to ride around in a cart, drink beer and eat hot dogs while performing brain surgery.

 

* A good drive on the 18th hole has stopped many a golfer from giving up the game.

 

* A good golf partner is one who's slightly worse than you.

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Good night, Morganna. Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?