Film Recommendation of the Week...

Falling Skies
Release date June 19th, 2011 on TNT.
Running time-45 minutes per episode.

This is a sci-fi adventure series that focuses on the aftermath of an alien invasion. From the little we know so far, 90% of the Earth's humans have been killed, all armies have been destroyed and the aliens have set up camps where humans are used as slave labor to collect scrap metal, seemingly to build some sort of craft. Reports from all over the country state the aliens have set up theses massive mother ships in every major city of the United States.

We are left with roving bands of survivors, a mixture of civilians with nowhere to go and the remnants of the US armed forces, who are doing battle in small insurgent groups while trying to figure out how to defeat the alien invaders. The main character is a US history professor looking for his captured son, played by Noah Wyle of the television hospital drama "E.R.".

He plays the typically earnest, Huckleberry Finn-type character who tries to exemplify the best in all of us. I can do without the All-American do-goodism, it's a cheap cliché that requires no thought, and quite frankly it's downright tiresome. Other than that, some of the babes are pretty hot and the three episodes so far have been quite entertaining. In other words, it is a nice addition to what will turn out to be one of the most boring summers in sports, television and film I've witnessed in years.

Let's be real-if the most pressing and urgent situations in pro football and basketball are those stupid work stoppages, then it's time to ignore the issue until the idiots in charge resolve it, because we all know it will be beaten to death on sports talk radio. So tune them out and watch something more entertaining than another pathetic episode of "Mob Wives" or "16 and Pregnant". We have the producers of last year's killer series "The Walking Dead" to thank for this. We should have had more episodes of this show by now, but they will not air until October or November of this year. Fucking sucks.

UPDATE-we are now heading towards the season-ending two-hour finale on Sunday, August 7th. All the episodes have been extremely good, and I'm glad the writers steered clear of overexposing the main character. His "Honest John of America" bullshit was seriously getting on my fucking nerves. Stay tuned, because I have a feeling it's going to be excellent.

The aliens have been in cahoots with some of the survivors who, in exchange for their lives, have been giving them information on where to find and kidnap the young humans they need for their mission. They control the humans by setting up harnesses along their spinal columns. These harnesses have been used against the aliens themselves. they are controlled by some super-tall and thin human-like aliens who look nothing like the multi-legged creeps that have been out in the streets doing their dirty work.

Just as it seemed completely hopeless for humanity, the gang are planning an attack on the alien's spaceships with explosives conjured by by a rogue ex-con anarchist who'se been giving everyone fits but seems interested in helping out. This cat has managed to figure out the type of bullets necessary to pierce the alien attacker's up-to-then bullet-proof armor, which has been a major hindrance in the army's ability to put up any sort of resistance.

Babe of the Week for June 24, 2011 is...

Bruna Schmitz!!!

This stunningly beautiful blond is comin' at you straight from Brazil. Anyone who doesn't agree Brazil has the best looking women of all skin tones and hair color must report to the nearest anti-doping tent for a drug test, because you are obviously on crack. Why surfer chicks are so incredibly fine I do not know, I'm just glad they are. It must be the care-free, easy-going lifestyle that makes gorgeous young women want to go out and hit the waves-

Here is her official bio from Sports Illustrated-
Bruna Schmitz, 20, is a professional surfer who hails from Salto do Lontra, Brazil. She began surfing at age 9, and in 2003 she won the Billabong Pro Junior title, making her the youngest athlete to win a professional event in Brazil. Bruna is sponsored by Roxy and Lui Lui shoes and currently surfs on the ASP Women's World Tour.
 

In my next life I wanna become the son of a rich couple with primo beach-front property, so I won't have a care in the word besides surfing and hooking up with some of the finest babes on planet Earth. Bruna, you loook mahvelous, dahling-absolutely mahvelous!!! Thank you Brazil for producing such outstanding babes in such mass quantities!!!

Lebron James...

This photo says it all. "Mr. Sense of Entitlement" from the age of what, eleven? Twelve? Riding to a game in a limousine with a bar rack full of candy? Uh-huh. Anyone else spot the irony of this man-child exploiting and being exploited by the same hyper-drive fame machine that's eviscerating him now? Lebron James has the tattoos "The Chosen One" and "King James" scribbled on his body. There is no greater affirmation of these monumentally arrogant and hollow statements than what we witnessed during this year's NBA Finals against the Dallas Mavericks.

Coming up small isn't the only thing he accomplished-he exhibited his true character, that of a clueless over-hyped con man who can only lead from the front, a pathetic shell of the player he keeps telling us he is. The most physically talented basketball player of his generation (a slight notch above cats like Dwight Howard, Blake Griffin and Derrick Rose) is a Tin Man with no heart. All flash, no substance.

Stephen A. Smith of ESPN stated that James is going through some personal issues that are apparently none of our business. I say it IS our business, because when you crown yourself King while still in high school, when your stated purpose is to become a global icon, when your ambition is to become the first billionaire athlete (sorry, but I think Tiger Woods beat you to it, oh Chosen One) you have to explain why you sucked massive horse cock in practically every fourth quarter of the Finals series, coming up short and small just when the lights are brightest and your team needs you the most.

Funny how Jason Terry had no problems talking shit after having a terrible game 3 performance and then going out and backing it up by lighting the Heat up. He was even called out by Dirk Nowitzki. Yes, Jason Terry, a 6-2 reserve shooting guard who I've seen dunk during a game maybe twice in his career. Lebron is 6 inches and about 70 pounds of pure muscle bigger, yet Terry absolutely killed him and the rest of the Heat team when it mattered-in the fourth quarter. Why did this happen? That's the question, isn't it? That should have been James lighting the Mavs up in those critical fourth quarters, but it wasn't.

If James is having personal problems, it must stem from the antics of his mother. Here on "Busting Chops" not too many things are sacred. Mothers and children are usually off-limits depending on the role they play in whichever particular tragic-comedy they happen to star in. This lady does not fall into the category of "saint", so she will get no mercy. This is a woman who was known to storm the sidelines of the Cleveland Cavaliers arena, loudly and publicly berating then-coach Mike Brown to anyone who would listen, disrespecting him whenever things went wrong. And no one would or could say anything because she was Lebron's mother. Who would dare?

She once went up to NBA broadcaster Mike Fratello while he was working a game and yelled out "Hey!! You wanna come and coach this team? Come on down!!!" Her latest fit of stupidity occurred in April 2011 with a parking attendant in a Miami hotel. She was arrested for a some type of assault (emphasis on ASS) even though it was clear the parking attendant hit her first. But he probably did this because she was drunk off her ass and said something stupid and demeaning to him. I could definitely see him hauling off and slapping her to the floor if this was indeed the case. But her crowning achievement had to be her rumored affair with her son's then-Cleveland Cavalier teammate Delonte West-

Imagine walking into the locker room knowing one of your teammates is fucking your mother in the ass and coming all over her face like Ron Jeremy after every game. That would be a tad bit disconcerting to say the least. I know it would throw my equilibrium off definitely. And not only a teammate, but the one who is by appearance and behavior the most thugged-out hoodlum-looking motherfucker this side of a Pelican Bay inmate. He has the most tattoos and has logged the most visits to a police station and psychiatric in-patient clinic than anyone else Lebron knows. His mom had to pick the most special special-ed NBA player outside of Ron Artest, and rumor also has it he ain't the only motherfucker she's fucked with (and continues to fuck with) in the league.

Apparently, she cannot be stopped. Thus the existential angst that seemingly attacks Lebron James only in the fourth quarter of really important basketball games. Then again, I too would freeze in moments like this knowing that Delonte West is horsing my mother like a thoroughbred, and probably videotaping it too. Here is a photo of her getting involved in an altercation between the Celtics and the Cavaliers, where Lebron had to tell his own mother to sit the fuck down and stay out of it. What type of asshole would do something like this? Lebron's mom, that's fucking who.

I felt a bit sorry for him until his diatribe after The Heat were eliminated in game six of the Finals. James was asked about what he thought of "The Haters", those who wanted to see Miami lose in general and see him fuck up in particular. Here is what he said-

"All the people that was rooting on me to fail, at the end of the day they have to wake up tomorrow and have the same life that they had before they woke up today," James said Sunday.

"They have the same personal problems they had today. I'm going to continue to live the way I want to live and continue to do the things that I want to do with me and my family and be happy with that. They can get a few days or a few months or whatever the case may be on being happy about not only myself, but the Miami Heat not accomplishing their goal, but they have to get back to the real world at some point."-Lebron James

The losers James is referring to are the very same ones he counts on to make his jersey the #1 seller in the NBA, the same losers who buy the magazines he's featured in and watch his every move on the basketball court when they watch him on TV. Basically he's saying whatever we do his life is awesome and ours suck. If our lives didn't suck, we wouldn't take so much pleasure in watching him lose.

As one of those people he is referring to, let me just say that I'm glad my mother isn't like his. I have no respect for some uneducated, hyper-promiscuous, ghetto trash hoochie who instead of giving birth to a crack baby like she would have under normal circumstances, wins the lottery by having one of the most gifted athletes the world has ever seen. So instead of going about her business with some semblance of dignity, she goes out of her way to embarrass him at every turn. DUI indictments, assault charges and acting out every groupie's fantasies by fucking not only NBA players, but players on her own son's fucking team!!!

I'm not a Lebron James fan at all. He has surrounded himself with yes-men and pathetic sycophants from his high school days who do nothing but blow smoke up his ass instead of giving him pragmatic life advice that could see him through such hard times. From the apotheosis of hubris with "The Decision", the televised ego-fest that someone told him would increase his national exposure (it did, but for all the wrong reasons) to the even more ridiculous celebration with fellow dickwads Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh, complete with fireworks, smoke machines and the announcement that they would win not one, not two, not three...but seven championships.

We don't hate Lebron because he's unlikeable. There are plenty of athletes who do and say much worse things. We hate him because he seems devoid of what fans would gravitate towards-humility. He's never known it, never felt it, and is clueless as to how to approach any semblance of it. He has a whorehouse full of no-talent cocksuckers whose major purpose in life is telling him how great he is and how all that matters are the endorsement dollars he's raking in regardless of the haters.

I hope he never wins a championship ever in his career. He'll be rich and have a fabulous life, no doubt he'll remind us. And he'll be the owner of a legacy he truly deserves-karmic justice at its' finest. And for all the asholes who are projecting the Miami Heat to be the favorites next year to win it all, there might not even BE season next year due to the impending NBA lockout.

The other thing is, Dallas still will look good; and so will the Lakers, the Memphis Grizzlies and the Oklahoma City Thunder. And the teams in the East are hell-bent on improving, whereas the Heat are already more than maxed out salary-wise. All they'll be able to do is put together another bunch of bums past their sell-by date who would play for a bullshit one-year league minimum contract for the chance at possibly winning a ring.

Just ask Mike Bibby how giving up $6 million dollars next year just to play for the Heat this year worked out for him. No one is going to sign him for anything near that amount next year, and believe me other players have seen this and will stay where they are than leave money on the table to take a gamble that will more than likely fail. The Heat as constituted presently will never beat any of those teams I just mentioned. Never. And we'll be back the same time next year wondering how Lebron's mother sabotaged his efforts to win a ring with her antics.

Here's what Cleveland thinks about "The Decision"-

The Fall of the House of Armstrong Pt. III...

Ah, the Lance Armstrong fanboys. Those semi-literate hyenas who troll the internet looking to pitch their tents, hoist their flags and stand tall against anyone who dares to say disparaging word about their homosexual man-crush. The fits of internet goonery this cocksucker incites (moreso now that he is that much closer to being indicted) has been a sight to behold. But it's all about to end, and end badly, and the fan-boys are up in arms. Just read the comments left on Tyler Hamilton's Facebook page right after the 60 Minutes interview and it's easy to see the violent reactions to his allegations that border on the insane.

These internet zombies are all over the place, on every cycling forum and any other place where their hero is discussed. Public Strategies is a company that has been accused of sending paid trolls to infiltrate these sites to infect the world with their drivel, and all one has to do is check out a site called facts4lance.com to see that these vermin do not intend to go quietly into that good night (the site was taken down shortly after it was painfully obvious that it had the opposite effect of it's intention, which was to muddy the waters with the most inane set of half-truths and downright lies this side of the Watergate investigation. G. Gordon Liddy would have been proud...).

As for the direction the investigation has taken, it is clear that Armstrong will once and for all be exposed as not only a fraud and a cheat, but the biggest fraud and cheat we've seen in the history of pro cycling. No other cyclist has enriched himself the way he has via his relationships with corporate sponsors, paid speaking engagements, and race appearance fees that have netted him untold millions of dollars. He's done this all on the backs of the cancer community, whom he supposedly champions but cynically uses as a ruse to perpetrate a world-wide iconic status that is in direct conflict with the asshole he's been his whole life.

The cancer community doesn't need as it's hero a fake, steroid-engorged, vindictive, bitter prick who lies, cheats, holds grudges, executes petty vendettas and uses the disease to operate some bullshit cancer advocacy group that rakes in millions in donations and produces nothing but vaporware that emanates straight out of Armstrong's rear end. Anyone who makes apologies for this scheming turdball is as pathetic as they come, the equivalent of the cheerleader who still wants to be invited to the prom by the captain of the football team even after infecting her with herpes.

This is the best way I can describe his fanbase. Their collective retardation boggles the mind. I always thought groupie behavior was the sole confine of disgustingly insecure and vacuous females looking for attention and validation, but it seems as if the men have gotten in on the act. For Armstrong isn't just a sporting figure to his fans, he is their messiah.And lets' not forget these aren't teenagers screeching over their latest celebrity crush. These motherfuckers are grown-ass men with families and jobs.

The pagan God of worship in America isn't money or success, it's fame. Because in a land where there is supposedly no rigid class structure, the dividing line is fame. Armstrong has been a corporate Juggernaut ever since he's sold the cancer community the notion that he was out to achieve sporting success at the Tour "for them", and the idiots bought it. He is revered by the Wall Street yuppies who despite having it all wish they were young and talented enough to be revered as a sporting deity. The private jets aren't enough. The lavish lifestyles and $5,000-a-night hookers aren't enough.They all wanted to be like Lance.

So do the aging yuppies for whom cycling isn't just a sport but a way to remind themselves they don't already have one foot in the grave, these frustrated tiny-dick bastards who harbor a deep-seated resentment towards society because they didn't turn out to be as awesome as they were told they could be in this great land of opportunity. You can have money, but what fun is it if no one recognizes you walking down the street?

Suddenly the floodgates opened and there he was, a beacon of light in a world of perpetual mediocrity for the babbling minions to devour-the Caucasian boy wonder, the most determined, hardest-working AND most physically  gifted cyclist since the great Eddy Merckx. At least that's what Chris Carmichael kept telling everyone. Carmichael, another whore of epic proportions, a man who's made a career out of trimming the follicles from Lance's one remaining testicle, who should not be training anyone much less profiting from cycling after his involvement with the US National Cycling team of the early 1990's.

So the trolls work their magic, spewing venom and vitriol at anyone who dares to question "the myth", and a myth it is. During the Dateline interview with Floyd Landis, Betsy Andreu was interviewed about the infamous hospital incident, where Armstrong was asked by one of the doctors in attendance whether he had used PEDs before he got sick. he rattled of this list-

1) EPO

2) Testosterone

3) Steroids 

4) Growth Hormone

5) Cortisone

This is the crap he was polluting his body with BEFORE he got cancer. He is also alleged to have researched an unapproved drug called HemAssist that never made it to the final stages for approval, thus never came to market, but was able to purchase the remaining stock and use it during his comeback. What kind of colossal asshole researches doping products while he's receiving chemo for cancer? His fanboys and apologists will go to extreme lengths to justify his behavior, and there is a reason for this besides blind hero worship.

Herein lies the eternal hypocrisy-average, everyday people fueling a multi-billion dollar PED industry in the United States, ingesting tons of steroids for the sheer sake of vanity, meanwhile demonizing sports figures who use these same drugs because it goes against the concepts of "fair play" and "level playing field", two of the most bullshit phrases in the English language. And the hypocrisy extends only to their favorite sports heroes, who they "identify" with-

The above photos say itall. For those of ou who aren't rabid cycling fans and cannot make the connection, the two Italian cats in the first picture (Leonardo Piepoli and the reviled Ricardo Ricco)  were busted for using CERA, a third or fourth generation blood oxygen booster, in 2008. Their feats of strength during that year's Giro D'Italia and Tour de France, until they got busted, was a drug-induced sight to behold. The next photo are two of the oldest riders in the pro peloton shredding the field at this year's Tour of California, Chris Horner and Levi Leipheimer. These two superannuated career dopers were actually favored as dark horse contenders coming into the Tour de France this year, whilst riding against riders 12-17 years YOUNGER. And do you know why hardly anyone batted an eye to their performances? Because in in this sport, two guys who come across as "All-American" (insert implied reference HERE) will always get the benefit of the doubt, regardless of how ridiculous their feats are especially when compared to their age.

If you take a close look at the pharmaceutical steroid industry in the United States, it is driven by anti-aging clinics writing prescriptions to aging yuppies who want to stay young and corporate type-A personalities who want to have an "edge" on their cohorts and the rest of society. These are the same jag-offs of who show up at master's category races with muscles bulging from HgH and testosterone and tell the world they've achieved their fitness through hard work and a healthy lifestyle-any lie is worth telling as long as it makes them feel superior to the next man. So it makes sense that they refuse to admit that steroid use bothers them because it doesn't. So what Armstrong doped? Apparently he doped better than the rest of the field, so their justification is the best athlete still won fair and square.

This is the Livestrong Hero in a nutshell. One nutshell, to be exact. This is the man for whom all manner of other-worldy qualities are attached simply because he is the Caucasian Superman every pathetic, anonymous yuppie in the United States wants to be but isn't. It turns out that Armstrong isn't either. So they are out in full force defending their man, with all manner of tactics-attacking fellow posters, feigning righteous indignation that the haters are so obsessed, that the investigation is a waste of taxpayer money, that anyone who has spoken out against him is nothing but a jealous loser with an axe to grind or an agenda to execute, the list is endless.

The Armstrong Myth will not die. It has to be taken out with the truth, which hopefully will fill the void from all the lies he's been spewing for years and years. I imagine the scene will be reminiscent of the death of former Colombian cocaine kingpin Pablo Escobar, who despite his obscene wealth wound up hunted like a rat bastard and died on a rooftop of a nondescript neighborhood in Medellín. Except it will be the Feds posing over the dead, bloated carcass of the remains of the House of Armstrong, built on stilts made of fraud, deceit, arrogance and a hubris that rivals the biggest crooks that ever walked the Earth. My hope is that his fawning legion of rabid fanboys jump into the abyss along with him. It will be a welcome relief, and one that is long overdue.

The Fall of the House of Armstrong Pt. II...

Now that the 60 Minutes report has aired, we know a bit more than we knew before. Here is the most damning piece of evidence revealed-

"The Swiss lab director has since given a sworn statement to the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI). "60 Minutes" has learned that the lab director testified that a representative of the UCI wanted the matter of the suspicious test to go no further. The lab director also testified that the meeting between himself, Bruyneel and Armstrong was arranged by the UCI."

So, in response to a positive dope test in the 2001 Tour de Suisse, which automatically would have kept Armstrong out of the 2001 and 2002 Tours de France, Bruyneel and Armstrong have a face-to-face meeting with the lab director, something that is unheard of. A member of the UCI interfered with lab protocol and made it clear this situation was to be remedied in Armstrong's favor by having the whole matter simply disappear.

This is what we have so far-

1) Institutionalized corruption that favored Armstrong and his teammates within not only cycling's governing body, the UCI, but also with the labs that carry out the anti-doping tests.

2) An exclusive non-compete contract during the Tour de France with the most infamous doping doctor of modern times, Italian Michele Ferrari, with money exchanging hands until as recently as 2010. Armstrong has stated publicly he cut ties with this doctor back in 2004.

3) Four ex-teammates giving evidence that they saw Armstrong dope with their own eyes and also partook in doping alongside him, either through procurement or ingesting.

4) Armstrong played a role in the trafficking of PEDs when he sent Hamilton a package containing EPO through the mail.

Aside from all the residual drama and posturing, this is what we know for sure. We do not know who else has testified or what they said. We do not know how the Italian authorities are dealing with Dr. Ferrari, who has had some of his bank accounts frozen and is currently under investigation. Ferrari has taken, at least in public, a pro-active approach by seeking the authorities so he can clear up any misunderstandings. The twisted guru to the the most successful cyclists of our times seemingly has nothing to hide, but he is the linchpin to the whole case.

He has managed to elude Italian authorities up to now. He was convicted of doping crimes a few years ago yet served no jail time and his license to practice as a doctor was never suspended. He still counsels cyclists as the pre-eminent quack of the cycling world though he has been told not to. He just does it discreetly in another country where apparently the Italians have no authority to chase him. His clientele protect him like a fugitive Nazi war criminal. But with Interpol now involved, this may be the beginning of the end for his career as a "cycling coach".

If the Italian and North American authorities can manage to get this vile slug to flip, then the whole house of cards will come tumbling down. He is the man who has the keys to it all-the doping calendars for Armstrong and the other riders on the team he worked with, the procurement of PEDs, and the amount of money that exchanged hands for his services. Then you have other quacks that worked with US Postal/Discovery/Astana such as Spanish doctor del Moral, who now runs an athletic clinic in Valencia, Spain.

There is much more to this tale but I'm keeping it short due to the speculation that has run rampant on the internet. Everyone has their "take", but until we know what the Feds are charging people with, there is no point in going further. All we can do now is wait. Any more commentary on this matter is nothing but an exercise in conjecture until more concrete details become public. But in part three of this series, the fanboys will be addressed.

The Fall of the House of Armstrong Pt. I...

Last Thursday, ex-US Postal rider Tyler Hamilton went public with details of the organized in-house doping program that elevated Lance Armstrong to 7-time Tour de France champion during the years 1999-2005. Hamilton is the rider who was banned twice in his career for testing positive, once for an autogolous blood transfusion in 2004 and the last year for DHEA, which effectively put paid to his career forever.

Hamilton riding for his last European squad, Tinkoff Credit Systems-

He will be interviewed by Scott Pelley on the venerable news program 60 Minutes on Sunday, May 22nd. This in and of itself is enough of a bombshell, but what followed was unexpected. It turns out George Hincapie gave testimony to the Federal grand jury overseeing the investigation of the allegations initially brought to light by Floyd Landis. Hincapie has corroborated the rampant drug use by Armstrong and others that rode for his teams during this time.

Hamilton during his 60 Minutes interview with Scott Pelley-

Hamilton is an easy person to vilify. Like Landis, he too took public money in the form of a campaign dubbed "IBelieveTyler.org" to finance the legal defense against his first positive test,, incorporating the ridiculous strategy based on the ludicrous notion that he had another blood type in his system due to a "chimera", or disappearing twin, while he was still in his mother's womb.

And like Landis, he has lied about his drug use for years despite unequivocal evidence to the contrary. It wasn't just the initial positive dope test, it was also his association with the infamous Spanish gynecologist/sports doctor Dr. Eufemiano Fuentes, which came to light after Operation Puerto revealed a client list that included some of pro cycling's leading stars, including Jan Ullrich and Ivan Basso. Ullrich retired in disgrace and Basso received a two-year ban, though neither had ever tested positive for an illegal substance ever in their careers.

Hamilton, at the time riding for a Russian team, vehemently denied any association with Dr. Fuentes, but evidence later revealed payments to the doctor from his then-wife Haven Hamilton to the tune of many thousands of Euros and a detailed doping diary that beggars belief. With all the doping Hamilton was doing, it's a miracle he's still alive to tell the tale, so comprehensive was the doping regimen he was on at the time.

Spain's Dr. Eufemiano Fuentes of "Operation Puerto" fame-

Armstrong's defense remains unshaken. His people have put out statement after statement refuting all charges by attempting to assassinate the flawed characters of Landis and Hamilton, an easy thing to do given the circumstances. But the Hincapie situation is not one that can be swept under the rug as the rantings of a bitter and jealous ex-teammate looking for publicity. This tactic will not work this time because Hincapie is one of the few from that particular era that has kept his reputation intact while never coming under suspicion as a doper.

Up until now, Hincapie's reputation has been that of the grand gentleman of the peloton. He's had a long career that spanned seven years spent as Armstrong's lieutenant during his Tour wins and was never mired in any type of controversy of any kind. But his admission of steroid use will cast a shadow over his career that will never wash off. He is currently racing in the Tour of California and has made no public statements to the press other than the usual pathetic attempts at obfuscating. Here are three of his quotes taken directly from his Twitter feed-

"I can confirm to you I never spoke with '60 Minutes'. I have no idea where they got their information."

"As I've said in the past, I continue to be disappointed that people are talking about the past in cycling instead of the future."

"As for the substance of anything in the '60 Minutes' story, I cannot comment on anything relating to the ongoing investigation."

Right now we do not know how any of Hincapie's testimony was leaked, but 60 Minutes got a hold of it. We won't know anything else until the program airs tomorrow. I could have waited until then to write this column, but I felt this information was too important to wait.But it begs the question-we now have three of Armstrong's ex-teammates ratting him out. Hincapie is the most surprising. Not only because of his supposed undying loyalty to Armstrong but because as one of the "good guys" of the peloton, he was thought by many moronic fanboys to be ethically above reproach. But just like Chris Horner and Levi Leipheimer, nice guys also dope.

Funny about Hincapie. Rumors about him go all the way back to when he was lapping the field in Central Park in New York City. He's been alleged to have been shooting up with vitamin B, cortisone and testosterone before he began riding for the infamous US national team. If anyone is familiar with the cats in this photo, no further explanation is necessary. Here is Hincapie repping the US national jersey alongside Mengoni riders the Pineda Brothers (the middle two) and sprinter Wilson Vasquez(far right)-

Hamilton, to his credit, has given back his 2004 Olympic gold medal. At the time he got off on a technicality because his B-sample was inadvertently frozen, so the testers could not corroborate the A-sample findings, but weeks later dropped out of the Vuelta a España citing an illness and was caught out along with another teammate for an illegal blood transfusion. They both showed traces of someone elses' blood in their systems, meaning someone on the team's medical staff got the blood bags mixed up.

Whatever else the 60 Minutes report unveils, it is becoming clear that unlike the Federal investigation into Barry Bonds and his use of steroids, the Feds are thoroughly doing their homework and coming up with witnesses that unlike in Bonds' case, are not willing to go to jail just for the sake of defending Armstrong.

We shall see.

Film Recommendation of the Week...

Hoop Dreams
Release date  October 14, 1994.
Running time 2 hours 50 minutes.

People say, 'When you make it to the NBA, don't forget about me.' I feel like telling them, 'Well, if I don't make it, make sure you don't forget about me.' "

-William Gates, in the final scene of "Hoop Dreams".

Anyone who is a basketball fan should watch this documentary, which, not surprisingly given the track record of giving bad films and bad actors accolades they don't deserve did not win the Academy Award for Best Documentary the ear of it's initial release. Not to get too far off the subject, but the snub it received from the Academy makes the whole process an absolute fraud. Here is an aspect of how films were considered for nomination as told by renown film critic Roger Ebert-"

"According to Roger Ebert, reliable sources said members of the Academy's documentary nomination committee had a system in which one would wave a flashlight on screen when they gave up on the film. When a majority of the lights flashed, the film was turned off. Hoop Dreams didn’t even make it to 20 minutes." 

Nice, huh? Despite all that, this film will go down as one of the best documentaries of the 20th Century. Initially, it was meant to be a 30-minute piece on some kids playing playground basketball, but it morphed into a five-year project that captured the lives of two young African American boys and their families in inner-city Chicago with a sensitivity and a disdain for the type of annoying and condescending platitudes that is the hallmark of lesser works that deal with this subject. Here is another quote from the "Hoop Dreams" Wiki page-

"The film raises a number of issues concerning race, class, economic division, education and values in contemporary America. It also offers one of the most intimate views of inner-city life to be captured on film. Yet it is also the human story of two young men, their two families and their community, and the joys and struggles they live through over a period of five years."

The scenarios portrayed in this film are still being played out in every inner-city in the country. Absolutely nothing has changed, except the money and exposure has pushed the recruiting of these kids well past the point of it being a system that is healthy for anyone involved. It turns basketball coaches into whoremongers and poor, desperate families into hapless saps who will believe anyone willing to take a gamble on their kid (for a price, of course).

Sadly, both Arthur Agee and William Gates suffered tragedies years after filming had stopped. Arthur's father, a man featured in the film who struggled with the usual litany of ghetto issues, was gunned down in 2004 on the streets of Chicago. Gates' brother Curtis, portrayed prominently in the film, was also murdered in 2001.

One of the most funniest cats in the film is Saint Joseph's High School basketball coach Gene Pingatore. What a character this guy is. He popped up a few years ago in Sebastian Telfair's documentary "Into The Fire", still living in the past and still talking about Isaiah Thomas, the most famous player he ever coached.

He comes across as a typical white, suburban basketball coach who is out of touch with the ghetto kids he looks for to help him win basketball games. He means well, he just doesn't speak the language and isn't very empathetic. He is an anachronism very much like Chuck Taylors and skimpy, tight-assed shorts. One of the most pathetic scenes involving Pingatore was when he approaches Agee years after he was asked to leave Saint Joe's and tells him with a straight face "I could have used you this year". What a prick. But then again, I expected nothing less from him, knowing his type.



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