Bill Simmons: Two weeks ago, Grantland did a movie stunt with ESPN Classic that was loosely called “Politically Incorrect But Undeniably Lovable Sports Movies of the Late 1970s.” Unfortunately, we couldn’t secure the rights to the 1978 anti-classic Coach with Cathy Lee Crosby. Full disclosure: I have never seen this movie. A friend of mine noticed the Fast Break poster in my office and asked if I had ever seen Coach. When I said no, he started laughing and said, “You gotta see it, it’s crazy, Cathy Lee Crosby coaches a high school basketball team and starts banging one of the players.” What??? Forget about the deficit and the jobs crisis; when a movie can be accurately described as “Hoosiers meets Fast Break meets a Skinemax movie” and ISN’T showing on cable at least once a month, now that’s when we’ve failed as a country. Please watch the embedded trailer if you don’t believe me.
Six additional notes: (1) As far as I can tell, this movie easily could have been turned into a porn without doing anything other than extending the sex scenes; (2) at one point in the early-1980’s, Cathy Lee Crosby was dating star Redskins QB Joe Theismann and starring on the ABC ratings smash That’s Incredible, so there’s a decent chance she called in a few favors and systematically destroyed all copies of this movie; (3) it’s good to see what the lead guy from The Terminator was doing before he was assigned to protect John Connor; (4) the Stallions are shockingly good at hoops for a bad seventies sports movie (I’d have them as 1-point favorites over Hickory High); (5) the trailer makes history by showing the ending of the movie in the trailer (again, there’s a decent chance this was originally a porn and they decided last minute to edit out the hardcore sex and release it commercially); and (6) will we ever have an adequate explanation for what happened in the late 1970s that doesn’t include the words, “Dude, I don’t know what to tell you, everyone was just doing a ton of cocaine”?
Bill Simmons: Two words: Basketball Jesus.
Chuck Klosterman: When I was a young tow-headed fellow, we used to play a game called “Billy Sims” where the singular goal was to jump over a bed (against a defender) while holding a Nerf football. I loved it. I wish I could play again, because now I know who ELO is, too.
Michael Weinreb: In anticipation of this week’s showdown between Penn State and Alabama, here is a video of Bear Bryant, dressed up like Fred Rogers, making some sort of point about maximizing one’s ability by inscribing random numbers on a chalkboard. After which I imagine he completed the lesson by doing precisely what Mr. Rogers would have done: He mounted a tower and made everyone in that room run wind sprints until they vomited.
Chris Ryan: The surface reason for including this live video of the Forgetters is pretty self-evident. This song will reduce you to a pile of smoldering ashes. Formed in Brooklyn, the band released “The Night Accelerates” as a single in 2010. Fronted by Blake Schwarzenbach, formerly the singer/guitarist behind Jets To Brazil and the seminal punk rock Jawbreaker, the Forgetters may have never attained the notoriety of Schwarzenbach’s previous outfits, but “Night Accelerates” is up there with the best songs he’s ever written or recorded. “I ought to charge you by the hour, for all the time I think of you. I caught you plotting my demise, I thought I ought to help you try.” What’s up. That’s your yearbook quote.
The other reason I love this video is its setting. This was recorded in ’09 at a place called Nowe Miasto in New Orleans. Nowe Miasto “is a collectively run multi-racial, social justice-centered limited equity housing cooperative and multi-use autonomous community space, promoting art, music, community activism, and housing affordability.” Of course it is. Shows at places like this can be a drag because there’s nowhere to go to the bathroom and there’s usually a dog and nobody knows who it belongs to and the smell can be … provocative.
I like watching this clip because it reminds of some of the shows I would see in people’s basements in Boston in the mid-nineties. The one, unshaded lightbulb as light-source; the random pieces of plywood and drywall sitting around; the hose hanging on the wall; people drinking beer and sitting in makeshift seating; the kid doing the absolutely perfect Hamlet-holding-the-skull dance in the front of the crowd. Schwarzenbach silhouetted; bass player Caroline Paquita singing along to the lyrics in the beginning; the little twirl the drummer gives his sticks before the beat starts. There’s probably a dog somewhere. I wish I was there.
Molly Lambert: DJ culture is fucking out of control.
Sarah Larimer: My buddy Metcalfe can always be counted on for weird conversations and stuff like that. A few days ago, we were part of an e-mail exchange about whether the police had jurisdiction over swirlies (Probably not, right?). And don’t even bother asking us about the Great Snakehead Panic of 2002, because we’re practically experts. So I am surprised that he sent me this bizarre video of a machine that eats a box of tampons? No, I am not.
Here are some other things the machine can eat, according to this clip:
- tennis balls!
- your belts!
- empty paper sacks that are possibly barf bags!
- useless pieces of wood!
- perfectly good fruits and vegetables!
- all of your shoes!
You get the idea. The best part: It looks like you can still buy this thing. I’d totally want to get one, too, if they threw in a free CD of the music from this video. Who wants to go halfsies with me?
Katie Baker: When life gives you lemons, feed them to an unsuspecting baby.
Previously: YouTube Hall of Fame: Stevie Nicks Combs Her Hair, a Comedy Film From Nigeria, and the Least Sexy Video on the Internet
YouTube Hall of Fame: George Michael, a Knife-Throwing Mom, and a Space Armadillo
YouTube Hall of Fame: Sheep, Kurt Loder on the Internet, and Dating Advice From Dr. Paul
YouTube Hall of Fame: Tales From the NBA Lockout, an Angry Keith Richards, and Shark Week Memories From January Jones
YouTube Hall of Fame: Brawling Bruins, Marshmallow Tests, and the Latest Jamaican Dance Craze