There was a time. That time was the 1980s. Everything was bigger, especially the hair. Women wore leggings. Men rocked mullets. And sports movies were … well … you decide. Roughkat, who will run the TC Marathon much faster than us on Sunday, has put together a 1980s movie quote quiz for your pleasure. Please note: “The Air Up There” (1994) image is intended only to throw you off the scent, and to reiterate that it might be one of the worst films ever made. Roughkat?

Last night I watched a great 80s sports movie with my SELF. They don’t make them like that anymore. The montages are great. They go directly into the plot without having to slowly give the backstory. There’s no gray area when it comes to bad guys. All they are is evil. And I miss the songs in the movies that share the same name as the title. Good times. With that, I give you the movie quotes from 80s sports movies.

1. A: Look B, I know what you’re going through. Couple years back, a kid came to me much the same way you’re coming to me now, saying the same thing that you’re saying. He wanted to drop off the team. His mother was a widow, all crippled up. She was scrubbing floors. She had this pin in her hip. So he wanted to drop basketball and get a job. Now these were poor people with real problems. Understand what I’m saying?
B: What happened to the kid?
A: I don’t know. He quit. He was a third stringer, I didn’t need him.

2. Enough of this Sunday stroll….let’s hurt a little!

3. A: You said you were going to make things better for me.
B: But I did.
A: How?
B: How? Just saved you two months beating.

4. No, maybe I can’t win. Maybe the only thing I can do is just take everything he’s got. But to beat me, he’s going to have to kill me. And to kill me, he’s gonna have to have the heart to stand in front of me. And to do that, he’s got to be willing to die himself. I don’t know if he’s ready to do that. I don’t know.

5. You know what you almost never see? Somebody heckling a diver.

6. SHUTE? Shute’s a monster! A genuine geratoid! His own father has to use a livewire to keep him from [redacted] the fireplace!

7. Relax, all right? Don’t try to strike everybody out. Strikeouts are boring! Besides that, they’re fascist. Throw some ground balls — it’s more democratic.

8. I drive truck, break arms, and arm wrestle. It’s what I love to do, it’s what I do best.

9. I’m gonna make him suffer. I’m gonna make his mother wish she never had him — make him into dog meat … He’s a nice, a nice kid. He’s a pretty kid, too. I mean I don’t know, I gotta problem if I should [redacted] him or fight him.

10. I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure.

Yesterday’s interview with Gary Smith and subsequent trip to the TR to see Chuck Klosterman got us thinking, in a good way, about the writing craft. We embrace all types of the form — from the quick-hitters we do here, to longer newspaper and magazine pieces, to novels and other longer works. With that in mind, we’d like to know what else you like to read. Consider this an open-ended draft of “must-reads,” with no restrictions. Could be an author, could be a book, could be a periodical writer, could be anything. Well, just about anything. Take “Catch-22″ and there will be a price to pay.

We went to the Chuck Klosterman event at the Triple Rock last night with MC Creme Fraiche. We say “event” because it wasn’t really a book reading. It was a chit-chat session, which was probably better. The only problem is we still don’t know anything about his new novel, “Downtown Owl.” What we do know is that his presumed job growing up was to be a teacher and a coach, while he would have considered the pinnacle of achievement to be working as an offensive coordinator in the SEC. So there you go. If things had turned out differently, and Chuck Klosterman had taken things one step further, he could be calling plays on Sunday. And we ask: what was your dream job growing up? (Ours was playing shortstop for the Atlanta Braves. Duh).

But we digress. Here are the picks for a dreadful week 5:

Kansas City at Carolina
Tennessee at Baltimore
San Diego at Miami
Seattle at NY Giants
Washington at Philadelphia
Indianapolis at Houston
Atlanta at Green Bay
Chicago at Detroit
Tampa Bay at Denver
Cincinnati at Dallas
Buffalo at Arizona
New England at San Francisco
Pittsburgh at Jacksonville
Minnesota at New Orleans

Fasola-link! Controversy at Harvard.

Hat tip to Deadspin; black eye to America. If you find yourself thinking, “Well, I want to know more about just how bad his friend messed him over,” then you take fantasy too seriously. From The Naples Daily News:

A 35-year-old man was arrested Monday morning after he allegedly became upset over points in his Fantasy Football league and threatened to kill his roommate.

According to a report from the Charlotte County Sheriff’s Office, Chester Marcial “Chet” Ward, of the 4500 block of Duncan Road in Punta Gorda, allegedly sliced pages in the book his roommate was reading before holding a knife to his roommate’s neck and threatening to kill him.

The report stated the roommate, who “was in fear of his life,” went to a neighbor’s home and called 911.

When deputies arrived, Ward admitted to being upset over points from his fantasy football league and that he asked his roommate to move out of the residence. Because the roommate was ignoring him, Ward told the deputies that he pulled out his knife and cut the book as a joke.

While Ward said he never threatened to kill his roommate, authorities arrested him on a charge of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon.

The report stated Ward resisted arrest and even struck an officer’s hands before running across Duncan Road to escape arrest. As he ran away from the residence, Ward was Tasered by another deputy, and was then handcuffed.

Don’t Tase me bro!

But seriously: How little is going on in your life to get so upset about fantasy football?; that said: what is the worst thing you have done in the name of fake sports?

So here’s the situation: As of Monday afternoon a buddy of mine in Chicago had guaranteed the availability of tickets to Tuesday’s play-in game. So after Ramirez’ grand slam I finalized arrangements for catnonymous and left Uptown for the Windy City, arriving around 1:30 am. Upon arrival I find that my friend has not only procured two upper-upper level tickets amidst the Furby-like panic that occurred after the Sox win against Detroit, but his special lady friend’s mom happens to be dating one of the Chicago White Sox coaches. So we also have two tickets in the White Sox friends and family section; however, these tickets come with one caveat: we would not be allowed to exuberantly cheer for the Twins.

Which tickets do you take?

We took the good ones, and were sitting in the “Mistress and Minor-League Coach” subsection of the Friends and Family section, directly behind home plate, 25 rows deep. During the game there wasn’t much to cheer for, but in the 9th inning we couldn’t hold back any more, my compatriot removed his pullover to reveal a Morneau jersey-tee he found in a thrift store in Vancouver and I took out the Twins hat I had been hiding all game. Less than 3 minutes later we were sprinting out of the stadium to avoid any sort of celebration at the expense of our Twins.

Side Talker: Did I use up all of Minnesota’s good will in Chicago? Upon my arrival I unknowingly parked in an area marked for tree trimming the next day, not only did I not get ticketed or towed, but the Chicago Forestry Department relocated my vehicle to a safe area around the corner. Easily the most considerate act I’ve ever seen by any Chicago institution.

RandBall’s Take:

1) Whenever someone says “Here’s the situation,” we immediately think of parents being away on a week’s vacation. Stupid D.J. Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince.

2) We would have taken the good tickets as well. Better seats, and the priceless possibility of celebrating amidst all the forlorn White Sox fans.

3) Sweet mercy, you have used up a lifetime of parking karma.