The Doobies: Handing out the hardware for a ridiculous sporting year

I started doing this a few years ago. It’s probably a very stupid idea and a very stupid thing, but I revel in its stupidity because…well, because sports can just be stupid sometimes. And that’s what I like to focus on at the end of each year-the dubious happenings of the year that was. It is with the word “dubious” in mind that I named my end-of-year awards “The Doobie Awards.” Well, that and the fact that the not-so-subtle drug reference delights the ninth-grade sense of humor that lies inside me…inside all of us. But without further ado…

Perhaps you won’t quite understand what I’m going after if you didn’t see the dull, boring and silly movie “Kingdom of Heaven” earlier this year. But it is with that movie as my guide that I bestow The Orlando Bloom Award to Tampa Bay Buccaneers “quarterback” Chris Simms. I mean, really-just try watching that guy in a postgame press conference and tell me you’d follow him into battle. Same goes for Bloom. I mean, can you imagine that little nancy-boy elf from “Lord of the Rings” leading you out onto the battlefield during the frikkin’ Crusades? Bloom and Simms are one and the same-they’re cute as a button, and you can tell they’re really trying. But when they try to play the lead, you just have to smile, pat them on the head, pinch their little cheeks…and then go find someone whose testes have actually dropped.

The Parkinson’s Award goes to Every Single Placekicker in the NFL. I mean, my gosh, what the hell is going on these days? The league’s kickers are shakier than I’ve ever seen them. I haven’t seen this many game-winning kicks missed in a single season in my entire life. Not to mention the chip shots, extra points and so forth. I don’t know the statistics, and I don’t even want to know. I know what I see, and the kicking is abysmal. It looks like college football out there. Every kicker in the league stinks. Even the good ones stink. Billy Cundiff, anyone? Jay Feely?

It is Feely’s exploits that inspired my next honor, The Premature Ejaculation Award, which goes, of course, to the Giants’ Jeremy Shockey, whose premature victory celebration as Feely missed yet another game-winner remains one of the funniest video clips of the year.

Speaking of video clips, The Boom-Goes-the-Dynamite Award goes to, naturally, the Boom-Goes-the-Dynamite Guy. Not since the heyday of the Star Wars Kid has an innocent, anonymous, humiliated youngster tickled my fancy so. If you haven’t seen the clip, I urge you to do so. A simple search on Google will suffice.

The Does-Anyone-Else-Think-He-Looks-Like-a-Transvestite Award goes to the Yankees’ Alex Rodriguez. Just look at him. OK, you caught me. This was just a cheap ploy to point out, once again, how he goes into hiding when anything counts, and how he shouldn’t have won the MVP, and how he didn’t have a meaningful RBI all season long. And also to point out that he does, in fact, look like a transvestite.

The Feeding Tube Award goes to Red Sox president Larry Lucchino, who just sits there all day, every day, drooling into a cup while the Red Sox decompose before his hollow, lifeless eyes. Yes, his handlers and P.R. minions tell you that he’s alive and kicking, but his actions-or lack thereof-say otherwise. In fact, they speak volumes, something that can’t be said of Lucchino, or, for that matter, of the award’s namesake.

The Large Pair of Bosoms Award goes to Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick. He’s great to look at. You can’t really take your eyes off him. But you know that great pair you’ve been staring at all day that you just realized was attached to some ditzy blonde named Bambi with an IQ of 34? Vick is that pair of bosoms. There’s nothing really there. He still can’t throw downfield, he still can’t read a defense and…wait, did I mention he can’t throw?

The Keep Your Fingers To Yourself Award goes to all the athletes who have, for whatever reason, started this disturbing new “finger-pointing” trend. I think it all started back when Fred Carter used to do NBA analysis on ESPN, during which he would randomly point at the screen with that stupid grin on his face. It was creepy. Then Manny Ramirez took his lead, and he’s been pointing fingers for no reason whatsoever, at nobody in particular, willy-nilly for the last two seasons. And then, of course, there was Rafael Palmeiro, whose illicit finger-pointing escapades have been well-documented by now.

And finally…The Give Me My Money Back Award goes to Kobe Bryant. Maybe it would be unfair to expect him to be the next Jordan, but the Lakers are the highest-profile team in the NBA, their season ticket prices are among the highest in sports, and he’s their biggest shining star. And he’s turned into just another bum who can’t play a team game, a player who can’t get over his own weaknesses because of the King Kong-sized chip on his shoulder. You disappoint me, Kobe. You broke my heart.

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