Dallas Sports Blog

Watching a win? Or ogling some skin?

​My column in this week's dead tree version of The Sportatorium (better known as the Dallas Observer) delves into chicks in sports.

Specifically, the Dallas Desire of the Lingerie Football League. Generally, why do we watch?

Is it because Maria Sharapova is really good at tennis? Danica Parick a superb driver? Michelle Wie an excellent putter? Or is it because - duh - they're women.

President Barack Obama played golf with a woman this week, so maybe this whole Title IX jazz isn't a fad after all. My question remains ...

Touchdown celebration or unnecessary roughness? Who gives a damn, really.

​Gonna spend my Friday night ogling two of my favorites: Football 'n Females.

Been meaning to catch a Dallas Desire game this season, but lo and behold they only play two home games. The last one is Friday at 9 p.m. against the Los Angeles Temptation at Grand Prairie's QuickTrip Park.

I don't have to tell you that when Temptation meets Desire, you can throw out the records. And throw off the clothes.

The Desire would get their asses kicked by the Dallas Diamonds - mud wrestling, anyone? - but they are one of the best teams in the Lingerie Football League.

I could break down the Xs and Os and tell you that the Desire is 2-0 and has outscored its opponents 60-12. But who I am kidding? All you really want is photos and slideshows of some supple, yet strong sporty skin to get you through another rainy day.

C'mon then. Let's do this ...

Shake Weight.

"All you do is shake it ... back and forth."

Words can't do this justice. But a couple come to mind after watching this video over and over and over ...  

Dinner, anyone?

Since I'm technically on vacation, allow me to make this short and sweet, and visual.

First, I spent my afternoon watching college football and, you guessed it, eating some cooked pig. Yes, that's a Coors Light can in its mouth and, yes, the guy who prepared the pig (the secret, believe it or not, is coconut milk) is the same buddy who serves up yummy Chinese at Chan's locations across the Metroplex. 

Poor oinker. I heard he died of ...

​So Coach Joe lures all these women into the locker room and then ...

Actually, no, it's not a scene-setter for the most bizarre porn on the planet, it's Football 101 for Ladies. And it's not a bad idea. Not bad at all.

The premise is that Joe Avezzano and his three Super Bowl rings know what they are talking about it. The extension is that women want to know football, but are generally too intimidated to ask their men.

Enter "Ladies Locker Room", a weekly seminar on the basics on the game.

​There are sports. There are athletes. And then, above below all else, there is Beer Pong.

I'll be on the golf course Saturday morning. But quick as I can get there I'll then be at fabled Lee Harvey's for their first annual Beer Pong Tournament.

Singles. Doubles. And, yes, a Bikini division, the entrants of which are afforded free play and - voila - free beer.

Patrick Michels

If you're a loyal Sportatorium reader, chances are you aren't hot enough to be a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader. (But who knows, send me a photo and I'll be the judge.) But I bet some of you aren't even smart enough.

Surprise, it's not as easy as it looks. (Check out more photos from the tryouts in our slideshow here.)

Remember how hard-ass Cheerleaders' director Kelli Finglass and drill-sergeant choreographer Judy Trammell stole the show during Hard Knocks circa 2002? Well, turns out they also make candidates submit to a written test.

Let's call it the Wonder Lick Test.

Even if you don't like tennis, I'm suggesting you'll enjoy The French Open.

Hot and dirty young women sweating and grunting and playing with fuzzy balls. What's not to like lust?

Even though Anna Kournikova has bagged her beautiful raquets, there's plenty to look at in the women's game on the clay at Roland Garros. Come for the vixens. Stay for the volleys.

10. Ashley Harkleroad

 

9. Elena Dementieva

 

8. Serena Williams

 

7. Ana Ivanovic

 

6. Daniela Hantuchova

 

Why does a game played below the rim fly so far above the radar?

I play sports because I love them. But I watch sports because I love to see done what I can't do.

I watch Tiger Woods because I can't hit a 7-iron 210 yards. I watch Andy Roddick because I can't hit a serve 149 mph. I watch Kobe Bryant because I can't dunk. I read ESPN The Magazine's Rick Reilly because he can write circles around me. I watch the Dallas Desire because, well, I can't tackle hot chicks without being arrested.

And that's precisely why I'm nauseated by ESPN continually force-feeding us women's college basketball. Because, honestly, the players don't do anything you and me haven't done on a basketball court. Right?

But with the tournament selection show, the nightly studio analysis show and the ho-hum highlights of two-handed chest passes and set shots delivered slower than refrigerated honey, we're trying to be tricked into thinking we're watching something unique.

Don't call me sexist. Call me sports sexist. Fine. Long as you admit that women's hoops is a vastly inferior product to the men's tournament.

Danny Bollinger

One and done?

It very well could happen in April. It's already happened in March.

In a shocking upset that definitely requires slow, detailed, further review, the Mavs Dancers were knocked off by San Antonio's Silver Spurs, 69%-31%, in the first round of NBA.com's annual dance team bracket. Not surprisingly, fans crowned the Miami Heat dancers the last three seasons.

Can't imagine why.

Hot as they are, the Mavs Dancers also lost in last year's first round. Hate to say it, but maybe next year we should enter ...

Patrick Michels

More photos here in our slideshow.

For most fans, there isn't much of the last Cowboys season that'll be remembered too fondly -- but for the team's cheerleaders, who gathered up for one last time for a year-end performance last week, 2008 drew a tearful adios.

The crew of dancers, some of whom are undoubtedly headed for bigger and better things next year, put on an elaborate two-hour show onstage at the Bass Performance Hall Wednesday night in Fort Worth, where the seats were filled with friends, family, and flocks of young dancers.

Along with the main attraction, and their riffs on football, freedom, and what it's like to be a cowboy, the show also included a few numbers from the Junior Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, video biographies on a few dancers, and a ventriloquist song-and-dance number. One of the puppets was dressed as a cheerleader too.

All of which is just to explain a few of the things you might be wondering about when you check out our slideshow. And yes, that's the *audience participation* part of the show where you'll see the big guy with a feather boa around his neck.

Write us when you can!

Sorry I'm a little tardy this morning. Been wringing out the tears from my computer keyboard.

Why?

Megan Henderson is leaving Dallas.

(Please. A moment of silence.)

Patrick Michels

Because I'm home making elaborate plans for my sweetie's Valentine's dinner - or something - I had to (grudgingly) send intern Kelly Knickerbocker out to scope the Dallas Desire wannabes in Grand Prairie. Kelly, what'd I miss?

Today at QuikTrip Park a group of beautiful - and surprisingly tough - young women were breathing life into the old adage "anything boys can do, girls can do better".

Okay, maybe better is a stretch. But hotter? Oh yeah.

To read more about the tryouts you gotta jump ...

To ogle research the candidates a little closer, all you gotta do is click our slideshow.

What better way to cap our very female-friendly Thursday than with an interview with the No. 3-ranked hottest female athlete on the planet? That's right, Sasha Cohen is in the Sportatorium.

I see it this way: If you selfishly keep Valentine's Day as yours, go to Purgatory Saturday night at 10 to check out the Lingerie Football League's Dallas Desire. If you graciously give Valentine's Day as hers, go to Smucker's Stars on Ice Saturday afternoon at 3 at American Airlines Center.

I won't pretend to like ice skating for anything other than taut booties and peek-a-boo skirts - oh and double salchows, I loves me some double salchows! - but when you get the chance to chat with an Olympic medalist you hop to it.

Cohen, 25, lives in Laguna Niguel, California and won a silver medal at the 2006 Winter Olympics. She's single. She looks like this.

And the coolest part?

Sasha Cohen answers her own cell phone:

There's no crying in football. But apparently there is kissing.

If you're a hot, young chick with a fit body - who am I kidding? - you probably don't read this testosterone-saturated blog.

But you should. Especially if you also like football.

Why?

Because it's right here that I'll point you toward your big chance in the Lingerie Football League. The LFL's Dallas franchise - the Desire, natch - is holding an open tryout tomorrow to fill its roster with 12 lovely ladies who don't mind accessorizing their lipstick with eye black and running around chasing each other in nothin' but pads and panties.

Yeah, but can she fill in for JET at two guard?

Most years I chuckle at Sports Illustrated's swimsuit issue.

The blatant pandering. The absolutely non-sports of it all. The shrinking bikini photos that are just this close to being NSFW.

But while examining this year's offering I had two new thoughts:

1. Hey, sounds like I'm describing my own blog.

2. Whoa, a Mavericks' dancer?!

This isn't - I repeat, is NOT - a photo of me at Baby Dolls. What, you think I own a suit?

I appreciate Baby Dolls.

I appreciate Baby Doll's business, as, last time I checked, it was an advertiser on this here blog.

What I don't appreciate is Baby Doll's, um, "customer relations".

Consider this not a blanket condemnation of the joint on Shady Trail, but merely a review of my visit last Sunday. I've called Burch Management president Steve Craft twice this week (Monday and Thursday) to allow for his club's side of the story, but so far no return call.

So ...

In what has been an annual tradition over the last, oh, 10 years, my buddy and I get hall passes from our wives and meet for lunch somewhere to watch the NFL Conference Championship Games and, inevitably, unwind at a gentlemen's establishment.

Last Sunday it was Humperdink's, then Baby Dolls. Lots of TVs. Lots of cold refreshments. Lots of scenery. Lots of - uh-oh - trouble.

It wasn't that I got 20 minutes of solid face time on KFWD Channel 52 Friday night.

It wasn't that I got to tour Channel 8's spiffy HD studios in Victory Park and take a spin in Dale Hansen's chair. (Psst, it really is unplugged!)

And it wasn't that I out-yelled The Ticket's Mark Elfenbein despite generally looking a fidgety, finicky mess.

The point is, I bumped into Shelly Slater and - whoa - time to update the ol' rankings.

In other words, watch out Megan Henderson:

Okay, let's try something different. Something titillating.

Since Observer staff writers Merritt Martin and Megan Feldman almost never get in a cat fight that spills over into the mud-wrestling pit, they instead want to entertain us visually-stimulated, testosterone-saturated dorks with their own list.

Couple of months ago I gave you my ranking of the hottest female athletes ever. Now the girls want to weigh in on their favorite girls.

Objections? Didn't think so.

Since they're both too shy (re: smart) to post their pics on here, I should think descriptions are in order. Simple, Merritt is a prettier version of her; Megan a younger, better her.

Got it?

Ladies, mi casa es su casa ...

OK, so you get Richie on here all the time. Hell, you even get a little Merten sometimes and, last week, even an apperance by Schutze. But the ladies of the DO felt it was time to rep-ruh-ZENT!

And, really, what better way to show that we do watch sports (and even partake in them occasionally) than to give you a list of athletes we think are hot? Our preferred guys are coming later, but for now we're ogling the girls.

Now, this isn't totally superficial. These females are tough, talented and fine. Fine as in, "We want beautiful physiques like them," as opposed to, "Damn, how does she jump with those tig ol' bitties?!"

Let's proceed, in no particular order:

Sure University of Texas quarterback Colt McCoy had to settle for the Heisman Trophy runner-up. Sure his Longhorns - despite last night's thrilling Fiesta Bowl victory - are getting screwed out of a possible National Championship. And sure, as one of my alcohol-soaked relatives put it over the holidays, "Something about his face just don't look right."

Nonetheless, he has her.

She would be girlfriend Rachel Glandorf, otherwise known as the hot piece of booty on the left in that photo up there. (Not that there's anything wrong with the one on the right.) If you watched Monday's victory over Ohio State, your eyes were drawn to her each one of the 50 times Fox's cameras tried to show you McCoy's parents. And, apparently, she can run (kewl!) and even talk (eh).

Oh yeah, the game.

Couple years ago during a rain delay at the U.S. Open tennis tournament in New York I was chatting in the players’ lounge when I nonchalantly reached for a piece of fruit on the lavish buffet. Simultaneously, and just as casually, Anna Kournikova made a play for the same phallic produce.

As our hands briefly touched, so was born the greatest lead in the history of my modest sportswriting career:

“Anna touched my banana.”

Actually, now that I think about it, “Anna Kournikova grabbed my balls” was pretty special, too.

Point is, one of the hottest female athletes to ever tickle our testosterone will be in our midst this weekend. Commence sweaty palms.

Former No. 1 Jim Courier and 3-time Wimbledon champ Boris Becker will also be at SMU’s Turpin Stadium for the seniors’ tour Stanford Championships beginning today, but all eyes will be fixated on Kournikova on Saturday as she plays exhibition mixed doubles matches at 1:30 and 6:30.

When I hit with (and on) Anna in Frisco a couple years back, my bucket list was pretty much finito. Flimsy resume be damned, she tops my list.

Here’s suggesting you s-l-o-w-l-y examine my rankings. Then, if you just must tamper with perfection, feel free to flag the faults:

Took the family to the State Fair o’ Texas last night.

While my body makes all sorts of gurps and froozles and other unrecognizable noises trying to digest the toxic combo of jalapeno corn dogs, fried bacon, funnel cakes and draught beers from paper cups, allow me to offer a review of what I witnessed:

The only thing more ridiculous than $35 for a bungee jump – swear, the “Skycoaster” is 70 coupons! (thank God the World’s Smallest Horse is still only 2 coupons) – was Jessica Simpson in concert.

Was doing “research” this morning for a possible blog item. One of these days I’m going to rank the hottest women in Dallas TV sports, or maybe just Dallas TV overall.

(Suggestion box = Open.)

But, just like that, I got very distracted. Somehow – the Internet is so persuasive – I landed on the web site of our Village Voice Media sister paper down south, The Houston Press.

Seems our alternative siblings are recovering from Hurricane Ike by looking at naked women.