The 11 Most Awesome Parts Of "Raw Deal"

Raw Deal is a movie made in 1986 that stars Arnold Schwarzenegger. This was the movie he made between Commando and Predator, my two favorite Arnold movies. I happened to come across it one day on Showtime. I watched about five minutes before deciding that I needed to get it on the DVR so I could watch it from the beginning. This turned out to be a great decision. It is not nearly as good as Commando or Predator, but it still has some awesome parts. Let's go through those. Also, for those planning on watching movies 26 year old movies, there are some spoilers in here.

1. It starts off with two guys playing Trivial Pursuit, because this is a thinking man's movie.

Guy 1: How many times was John Wayne nominated for an Academy Award?
Guy 2: Probably not enough.

And Guy 1 gave him credit for this answer in Trivial Pursuit. They were then all murdered, probably for being bad at Trivial Pursuit.

2. A villain made a guy stare in the mirror with a gun to the back of his head. Said, “So you want to be a witness, witness this.” Because he saw himself being murdered. That was totally badass.

3. Arnold is chasing a guy on a motorcylcle in his Jeep. It’s basically like Dukes of Hazzard meets Tokyo Drift, only with motorcycles. Motorcycle guy appears to get away, but Arnold knew a shortcut, and waited for him to drive by so he could set the road on fire with gasoline and his cigar. The plan works to perfection, and it is totally awesome. Let's face it, setting people on fire is always awesome.

4. Arnold’s got a nagging wife. She is only in this one scene, but it is definitely the best scene of the movie. It's probably one of the ten best scenes in cinematic history. Enjoy.


5. Some bigshot at the FBI reaches out to Arnold, because his son got killed. If Arnold completes his mission, he'll be back in the FBI. Arnold’s first order of business is obvious. He goes to a shut down power plant and basically sets off a nuclear bomb by setting that thing on fire. This seems like a pretty over-the-top of way of faking his death, but now he is free to infiltrate the mob. His drunk wife will probably be busy putting hilarious words on cakes.

6. Arnold is now slicking back his hair. He goes to a shady gambling hall looking like a high roller. He then acuses them of having a tilted craps table. He proves it, and then says, “Magic…or MAGNET!” while flipping over the table and then hauling ass on a bunch of bad guys. Somehow, nobody in an illegal gambling parlor has any guns handy. He then goes outside. The bad guys think it’s over. The bad guys are wrong. Arnold drives a tow truck straight through their building. And I do mean straight through. He goes in one side and out the other with no problems. There is no way that building was up to code.

7. Arnold goes to an exclusive, classy, gambling place and obviously just owns at the Blackjack table. I don’t know why he didn’t do this when he was a lowly sheriff, probably could have led a much happier life. He makes a ton of money, and then just hands all of his chips to the blonde sitting next to him

8. I would like to point out that there is nothing related to this scene later in the movie. It ends, and we accept what the P in Joseph P. Brenner stands for.


9. WARNING: They go to a strip club, and I’m like, wow, that broad is ugly. Then I realized they were in a crossdressing strip club, so, needless to say, I was happy I wasn’t attracted to any of the strippers. This would be a great time to trick a buddy into saying that the girl is hot, just so he isn't called a "Fagmo" for not liking strippers. That would be the mature thing to do.

10. Arnold blasts the window out of his car, and then proceeds to pop in a cassette, so he can play the Rolling Stones, “Satisfaction.” You bet your ass that he proceeds to go on a killing spree. He never even looks at his target, just points, shoots, and kills.

11. Arnold ends the movie by inspiring a cripple to walk. I’m not joking. You don't believe me? Well, let's go to the video:

Yeah, this movie is awesome.

Keep The Beer Flowing

So I went for an all-day drinkathon while tailgating this weekend. Whenever I do something like this, I am reminded of the Toby Keith song where he says, "I'm not as good as I once was, but I'm as good once, as I ever was." At 28 years old, that is where I am at when it comes to my drinking days.

Things did not start out well as the gas station we stopped at did not have any Natural Light. I knew I was going to have to switch to swill later on when we went to the bar, but I was not hoping to start out with it. Oh well, Bud Light it is.

Drinking starts at 8:00 AM, because it was an afternoon game, so I was able to get by with a later start. I proceeded to drink about a dozen beers and eat a whole gang of free tacos. That is really the best thing about tailgating. Every single person tailgating somehow makes way too much food, so people are always looking to give food away. If I was homeless, I would just buy a college/pro shirt of whatever city I was in, and have like 8-10 awesome meals each year. I really hope there are homeless people reading this at the public library.

Then it was time to the bar, because football is not a fun sport to watch in person, as when you are at the game, you realize how slow of a game football is. Also, since it was a college game, I would have had to stop drinking. We get to the bar about 15 minutes before the game starts, and I somehow manage to weasel my way into a seat by the bar. This is the last good news from that bar, because I am a fan of the Iowa Hawkeyes, and they managed to shit the bed, the couch, and the recliner. They just shit everywhere.

Then we went to this crappy little dive bar that is a couple blocks away from the serious action. Some lady, who was obviously trying to impress me, put some money in the jukebox and let me pick the songs. So I put on a bunch of awesome songs. You bet your ass that I put on some "Moondance" by Van Morrison, because I am a classy gentleman. I proceeded to dance and romance throughout the song.

I also decided to put on Roxanne, so we could play the Roxanne drinking game (one person/team drinks every time Sting says Roxanne, the other/team does it when he says Red Light). Unfortunately, my one buddy had not gotten back with our beers when the song started, so another buddy and I started singing. We were warned for singing too loud...at a bar! We did calm down, but mostly because it was during the verse and not the refrain. When the refrain hit, we took it to another level as we battled to see who could be more awesome while singing the song. You really haven't lived until you have shimmied and screamed "Roxanne" into a friend's face in a public place. We were asked to leave, but I do not blame myself or my friend, I blame their service, because if we would have had beers, we could have just harmlessly slammed our 20th (estimate) beer of the day. Keep the beer flowing, and we keep the harmless, good times going.

To top it all off, later on my buddy passed on the beers and switched to liquor and ended up face planting at the end of the night. This is what happens when you don't keep the beer flowing. Some say beer before liquor, never been sicker. They could say that beer before liquor can be a real ass kicker.

I Will Not Be Grantland's Fantasy Football Writer

Grantland had a contest to become their fantasy football writer. They asked for the top five players this year and one sleeper. That is, quite possibly, the most boring writing concept ever. Also, anyone who claims to be a fantasy guru is a moron, especially when it comes to fantasy football where if you just manage a healthy team, you will be competitive. Even though I decided to play within the rules, much like the cast of Suits, I also managed to still play by my own rules. The following is the article that, somehow, did not lead me to the writing championship.

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Becoming Grantland’s fantasy football writer has long been a dream of mine. I remember growing up last week and seeing that Grantland was having a competition for their Fantasy Football writer. I knew that it was my destiny. Well, guess what? It’s this week, and that little boy with a dream is now a 28-year-old with loads of free time, and it is time for my dream to become a reality.

Calvin Johnson – If you are looking for guaranteed points, look no further, because this guy is a fantasy stud. Do you know how tall Calvin Johnson is? Probably not. I have it on good authority that someone tried to measure him using a yardstick. They then brought out a second yardstick, and he was taller than both yardsticks combined. A yard is three feet, and since he is approximately three yards tall, that makes Calvin Johnson nine feet tall. Do you know how fast Calvin Johnson is? Of course not, because Calvin Johnson is as fast as our hands. Since the hand is faster than the eye, he is too fast for the world to ever get a proper measurement on his speed. When Usain Bolt feels a gust of wind, he fears it is just Calvin Johnson lapping him. So, yeah, good luck stopping Calvin Johnson this year.

Ricky Stanzi – Yes, the Kansas City Chiefs backup quarterback may not seem like a wise choice at first, but take a closer look, and I think you will find that he should be your top priority on draft day. Ricky Stanzi loves America.

I mean, the man really loves America.
Fantasy football has surpassed apple pie on the Most American rankings. It’s football, which is a sport that is only played in America. You create a hypothetical team that many cheer for over the team that they grew up rooting for in order to get bragging rights over their friends. This is what Abraham Lincoln envisioned after killing a vampire and signing the Declaration of Independence. U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!

Bo Jackson – So this one is cheating a little bit. I have a football simulator called Tecmo Super Bowl. Although I have not judged the results of my simulator against real-world results, I am nearly positive that it is the most accurate simulator in the world. For the last 21 seasons, the top fantasy performer has been Bo Jackson. I do not see that changing anytime soon. As long as he remembers to zig zag to obtain optimal speed as opposed to running a straight line, I really don’t see how any team is going to be able to stop him.

Mike Ditka – His versatility is what adds so much value for Ditka. He can not only fill in in your Coach position, but he can also fill in at the role of Tight End, Analyst, or Mustache. This is the type of fantasy stud that you can build a team around. If that’s not enough, take solace in the fact that you can never go wrong with Ditka.

Josh Scobee – That’s right, a kicker. A lot of you are under the impression that kickers are worthless in fantasy leagues, but it is actually quite the opposite. Little known fact, on 98% of touchdowns, the kicker scores. It is an obscure rule known as the point after touchdown. People in the know refer to it simply as the PAT. A kicker will kick this and get a point. Only bad kickers miss these, and Josh Scobee is not a bad kicker. He will also have plenty of chances as Maurice Jones-Drew is holding out meaning that he will be well rested for the season. If that isn’t enough of a reason, Blaine Gabbert is in his second year and has already bought property in the end zone, because he plans on spending most of his Sundays there celebrating with teammates.

SLEEPER: Washington Sentinels Defense – All the attention goes to Shane Falco, but this defense deserves respect. After trailing 17-0 after the first half in their final game, they did not give up another point and won 20-17. That scoreless second half is a sign of things to come this season.

Get those guys, and you will definitely be going home with a fantasy championship this year. Also, if you are one of my friends that I am in a league with, don’t read this. I really should have put that at the top. Aw, crap.

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So, yeah, I don't understand how I lost either. As a consolation prize for anyone checking this post out five years later, here is a mashup picture I made on Paint for my team Robert Kelley Kapowski:

I Suck At Basketball

I used to be decent at basketball. I was an okay shooter, even though my shot is very, very ugly. The strongest part of my game was defense, because I was quick, and I had the mindset that I was as good as the black kids. I wasn’t, but I still was never intimidated. Also, since a lot of defense is focus, I was able to focus on that, because offense was for nerds anyway.

I have not touched in basketball in years. I have not played consistently in over a decade. But there is never anybody at the basketball courts at my gym early in the morning. I figured that would be a fun way to get a light exercise in on some mornings, so I had my parents get me a basketball for my birthday (yes, my parents do still get me birthday presents). I headed to the gym on Tuesday to shoot around. I threw the ball up, expecting the worst, and the ball went in. Hum, I did not see that coming. Then I took another shot and…swish. Um, okay. I proceeded to hit 7 out of 10 of my first shots, and I was feeling good about myself. Really good. I was strutting around like I farted Swagger Deodorant. You can probably guess what happened next.

The wheels fell off. Holy shit was I awful after those first shots. Airballs, bricks, and just generally ugly shots littered my shooting session. It was awful. I was awful. I decided to nail all the shots from a 3 point contest before heading home, and it took me like 40 shots to do it. I made two threes in a row and decided that would be a good place to stop. I decided to hit a layup to make it three in a row and BRICK. Jesus, how does someone brick a layup? I don’t know how, but I know that I managed to do it. I had to shoot for another three minutes before I hit two shots in a row again and decided I did not need to give myself the ultimate challenge of hitting a fucking layup. Christ.

Since I hate being bad at stuff, I decided I was going to improve. I am going to force myself to keep at it by giving updates of my progress. Occasionally, I will shame myself on this blog, but for the most part, I will give updates via twitter (@HottJoe) every time I shoot hoops. I am going to focus on the 5 spots in the three point contest and free throws. I plan on taking 100 shots from one spot on the court every time I go and shoot. I started in the right corner, because when I was growing up and playing hoops in the back alley, I could knock down shots from the right corner like I was freaking Craig Hodges. Since I knew I kind of sucked, I figured I would shoot for 30-100. I’m shooting wide open threes, and shooting the same shot over and over so I should be able to get on some hot streaks and at least hit 30 uncontested threes. Here are my results, and,*Spoiler Alert* holy fuck was I wrong.

So I missed my first 7 shots. No big deal. I’m just getting warmed up. I should get on some streaks later where I can make up the ground. The 8^th shot goes in, so I’m not feeling good, but I’m still feeling alright.

Status: 1-8

I do not heat up. I occasionally hit a shot, but I do not hit them often. That 1-8 was an ominous sign of things to come. I keep shooting, but 30% is looking near impossible at this point.

Status: 5-40

I’m still confident. I don’t know why, but I just assumed that I could point to my 5-40 start and then show the progress I was able to make as I attempted more shots. I still think a 25-60 finish, although improbable, is still possible. I love me some me, but slowly, I am beaten down as shot after shot goes in and out. Things are not improving.

Status: 8-69

Things actually get worse. Airballs, bricks, and can it even be considered a brick when you hit the side of the backboard? Because I definitely did that a few times. My longest streak of shots made stands at one. That’s right, through 88 shots, I have not made two in a row. It is impressive how bad I am at this. 30% ain’t happening. 20% would take a near-miracle. I’m honestly just hoping that I can hit one more and get above 10%.

Status: 10-88

And then, it finally happens. I start heating up…by my standards. I hit 3 of 10. Still can’t hit two in a row, but at least I am above 10% for the day.

Status: 13-98

It is at this point that I realize that I need to keep shooting until I can end on a made shot. This slightly pumps me up, because I know I will end on a high, but it also slightly depresses me, because I just had my hottest streak by hitting 3 of 10, and it may take me until shot 120 to make another one. I take shot 99, and it actually goes in.

Status: 14-99

Now the pressure is on. I have not done nearly as well as I thought I would, and I had pretty low standards to begin with. If I hit this shot, I get to go home. Not only that, but a make here means that I have an actual streak of two shots made, something that I have not been able to accomplish through my first 99 shots. I take a deep breath, focus, exhale and shoot…SWISH! I have made it. You better believe I gave a little fist pump, grabbed up my gear and jogged out of the gym with a smile beaming on my face. I was a winner.

Status: 15-100

And so goes the first of many shooting sessions for me. I think it's safe to say that I still need a little work on my game.

Let's Break Down Jose Canseco's Time Travels

So I have definitely been reading the articles on Vice.com from Jose Canseco, and although they have been good, they have not been at the ridiculous level that I am used to from Jose Canseco. That all changed yesterday as Jose may have written the greatest article since writing began. Not only is it incredible writing, but there is also a scientific breakthrough in there. Yep, Jose knocks baseballs and scientific theories out of the park. It's simply amazing and definitely in need of a breakdown.

I time travel all the time and have been for the last 20 years; it’s real simple.

Yeah, idiots.

But there are rules: You can’t travel to the future, and you can’t change history—but that’s a good thing because you wouldn’t want to wake up in a different future or past, as the case may be.

And you can't play by your own rules when you time travel. Try to change the future or past, and your license to time travel could be revoked.

The only way to time travel is in your dreams, subconsciously.

God damnit, Jose. That isn't time travel. I mean I don't wake up from a dream where I hit a game winning shot in Chicago and then save the president in DC, and announce, "Guess what I did last night. Teleported!" Although maybe I should.

To do this you must know how to control your dreams. For example, I constantly ask myself, “Am I dreaming? Am I dreaming? Am I dreaming?” If you condition your mind to ask that question every half hour while you’re awake then, after a while, you will ask it even in your dreams. Once you get the hang of it, you’ll be time traveling in no time at all.

I really want to start doing this throughout the day. Just going through mundane tasks and asking people this question. I could be at the grocery store, and the woman could tell me it's $43.61, and I'll just look her dead in the eye and say, "Am I dreaming?" When she responds that I am not, I will just casually respond, "I know. I'm just conditioning my mind for time travel. No big deal."

I first learned the art of time traveling during my first divorce. My heart was broken, I was depressed all the time, and I just couldn’t take the pain. Somehow I realized that the pain subsided once I entered a dream state.

"Honey, you can have the house and the cars. Please, just leave me the time travel."

Now I’ll do things like say, “I want to see my mom,” and boom, my mom pops up and I’m in the past. I can talk to her. I can hug her. It's very emotional. My dad just passed away about two years ago, and now I see him this way too. 

Wow, Jose is actually using his time traveling abilities for really noble things. Good for you, Jose.

Or I could say, “I want to go back to high school.” Boom! All of a sudden my dream shifts to when I was in school and I had this huge crush on a cheerleader named Dawn Alba. I always wanted to go up to her and say hi and tell her how much of a crush I had on her, but I was so shy that I just couldn’t. When I time travel I’ll see her there and literally walk up to her and kiss her; you can pretty much do whatever you want. You can even fly to different spots, zooming through the air.

Yep, that is what I was expecting. Time traveling to kiss girls, riding in limousines and jetsetting to exotic locations...wait, Jose's time travel is basically Ric Flair's life. I honestly can't think of another person that I would want to emulate if I were time traveling.

You have to be careful when you first develop the ability to control your dreams, which largely relies on controlling your emotions. It can become kind of wishy-washy if your confidence outweighs your talent. For instance, let’s say you want to summon your favorite pet from childhood, or from another point in your life. If you can’t control your dreams properly, your cuddly kitten or loyal dog could turn into a wolf—or if you’re really unlucky a werewolf—and start attacking you.

Wait, if that kitten or dog turns into a werewolf, wouldn't that be changing the past? Or when Jose loses confidence in himself, do safe animals turn into monsters? Let's go with the latter, because that's a way better story.

The only way I will ever be able to play in the major leagues again is through time travel, but for some strange reason it’s the one thing I haven’t been able to do. Either the bus leaves without me, they won’t let me into the stadium, I’m late to the game and miss it, or something else happens that prevents me from playing. It’s starting to really weird me out.

It's because Ric Flair never played in the majors, and you can't stop envisioning yourself as Ric Flair. Problem solved. You're welcome.

The other night I had a dream in which Dan Duquette, the GM who signed me to the Red Sox, wouldn’t let me play because of a “technical issue.” I looked at him and said, “Listen, I want to play tonight.” He responded with something crazy like, “If you want to play, go get me vanilla Dippin’ Dots with chocolate syrup on them.” I searched everywhere for the stand, and when I finally found it and bought a cup of Dots I immediately fumbled it and dropped it to the ground. I was like, “Oh my God!” but at this point I was really determined, so I kept trying until I finally got one back to Duquette without dropping it. Then he started making all of these other crazy excuses for why I couldn’t play, saying, “Now I want this, and then I want that…” It was insane.   

Good God, man. you're an expert in controlling your time travelling and you can't walk and carry a cup of Dippin Dots? Like, maybe, you could justify dropping it once out of excitement and slight carelessness, but it seems like you dropped it at least four times. Honestly, after Duquette saw that, he probably didn't trust you with a bat in your hand.

I’ve had a similar dream about Tony La Russa and others—no one will let me play inside the goddamn ballpark. It’s the one time-travel dream I can’t control, and I have it at least five times a week. It must be a subconscious block.
I’ve even seen myself as a child during some of my time-traveling experiences. Every once in a while I’ll try to make myself leave a mark on certain structure. Every so often I’ll visit the location the next day, when I’m awake, but nothing’s ever there.

Hum, I wonder why that is. Could it be that you aren't actually time travelling? Nah, that's definitely not it. Forget I said anything.

Sometimes I’ll even tell myself, as a child,  “Listen, when you get to the majors, never do steroids.” Of course, that never works, because I still am where I am.

Jose, you tender poet warrior. All you want is to be loved. I want you to know that you have my backing, and I hope you keep time travelling until you can experience the big leagues again...or at least a WCW Title run.

We Need To Talk About These Jose Canseco Old Milwaukee Commercials

The world is abuzz over the latest, greatest, innovative ads from Old Milwaukee. First, they got Will Ferrell to do some ads in various smallish cities for Old Milwaukee, but now they've brought out the big gun. That's right, they got the man with his guns hangin' and bangin', Jose Canseco. As far as I know, it aired only in Kansas City, and it is pretty awesome. Let's tackle these commercials one by one (Actually, two by one. Also, turn your volume way up as the sound is a little weak on these videos).


Commercial 1
This one is so simple, yet so beautiful. Just one of the most powerful swings in the history of baseball straight up crushing a beer can in slow motion. Then, Old Milwaukee lets you know that they were behind the genius of this commercial.

Commercial 2
Jose gets to show off his acting chops by talking about how a few bad apples can't drag down the game of baseball. Just like a few days of puking following a night of drinking Old Milwaukee shouldn't stop you from drinking it in the future. Baseball's back, Jose Canseco's back, and since a lot of us went through an Old Milwaukee phase, maybe it's time for us to get back to our roots and start drinking our old friend.


Commercial 3
This is the commercial that shines the brightest. It is specifically designed for the Kansas City market, but I feel it can be enjoyed by anyone. Kansas City isn't in a slump; it's just that the rest of the world started cheating. "Sometimes last place, is first place," is really a fantastic quote.

As easy as it is to make fun of Jose Canseco, these commercials are all very well done. Old Milwaukee found what would work for him and did a great job with it. I'm still a Natty man, but Old Mil has just moved up to my number two.

This Avion Commercial Makes No Sense

So, I keep seeing this Avion commercial on TV, and I cannot figure it out. It is, quite possibly, the dumbest commercial ever made. I know it doesn't hit you over the head with stupidity like some commercials do, but if you actually watch it carefully, you will realize that there is no discernible plot or motivation in these characters. Just check out the commercial, and then I will break it down below:

:01 - Man opens door to reveal sexy lady who is dressed in all leather. Man is at a loss for words, but we do get the impression that these two are dating as he calls her, "Honey."

:11 - She tells him to sit and he obeys. Honestly, sitting is way more comfortable than standing, so this is a pretty easy direction for him to follow. It only qualifies as slightly more of a command than, "Eat this steak." Also, it appears that he sits down on a leather chair which means there is no way he could have his arms tied to the chair. This will become important later.

:15 - She puts on gloves. I don't know why she couldn't have put on the gloves before she got there, but whatever.

:19 - Dude is starting to get nervous now that her gloves are on as he asks her, "Do we need a safe word?" She shushes him, even though he asked a very reasonable question at a reasonable volume.

:21 - Okay, this is where it gets weird. There are somehow lit candles all over this guy's apartment. I really don't know any guys who light candles, but this guy had a ton of them. Even more inexplicable is she just starts dumping candle wax on the floor. That is going to be a pain in the ass to clean up. What is your end game, woman?

:23 - She blindfolds him. She never actually ties him down, but she does blindfold him. At no point does he think to reach his arms up and take off the blindfold.

:30 - She has two glasses filled with ice, but only pours Avion into one of the glasses. Why did you put ice in both glasses? You are the least efficient human being ever.

:35 - He smells the drink and realizes that it is Avion. He should probably ask her to get him a glass or at least take off the blindfold and do it himself.

:40 - She takes off his blindfold and drinks the Avion. The dude sits there dumbfounded. I'm not sure why, but I am guessing that she is a recovering alcoholic who just got her token for a year of sobriety. At least that would make sense.

:50 - She leaves some of the Avion in the glass. Finish your drink, woman.

:54 - She leaves, saying, "That'll do for now." Um, I'm just going to let Matthew Kennedy Gould express my feelings here.

So, quick summary. Some dude's girlfriend spends a lot of time to get all dolled up in her sexy leather outfit, so she can blindfold her boyfriend, pour wax on his floor, drink a little bit of tequila and leave. That doesn't make any sense. It would have been way smarter for her to go to a bar and have some, or even go to the local liquor store and buy her own bottle. It probably cost her a decent chunk of change driving to her boyfriend's place, because, let's face it, no girl dressed like that is taking public transportation. It'd be even worse if she had to pay for a cab.

I don't even know who they are trying to sell this product to. Are they trying to sell this product? The only reasonable explanation I can come up with is that both of the characters are mentally handicapped, and although that would be a really progressive commercial, I doubt that Avion is trying to become The official Tequila of the Mentally Handicapped. 


My brain hurts. If anyone from Avion could contact me about this, that would be greatly appreciated. 

I Took Hacksaw Jim Duggan To The Airport

Last week, Hacksaw Jim Duggan made an appearance at a local minor league baseball game. Since I have connections in that industry (I am a very important person), I had the opportunity to take Hacksaw to the airport the following morning.

The first thing you should know is that Hacksaw is as awesome as he seems on TV. He is an incredibly nice person, even very early in the morning. He immediately thanked me for picking him up, wondering how I got stuck with this duty. Stuck? I volunteered to set my alarm for 4:00 AM, so I could pick him up at 4:45. In fact, I was so excited that I was wide awake by 3:45 AM. I swear, despite what that last sentence may lead you to believe, I am a fully functioning adult.

I met him the night before as he was signing autographs for fans. It was very impressive that he did not just sign an autograph an keep the line moving. He gave every fan about a 1-2 minute conversation. The line did not move fast, but he was willing to stay after the game had ended so he could meet with everyone. So I met Hacksaw the night before, and he loved my old school Royal Rumble shirt. And no, I did not wear that on accident since he won the first Royal Rumble, I planned my outfit to go meet Hacksaw Jim Duggan. I am not ashamed about this at all.

So, back to our ride to the airport. I pick him up and tell him he will probably have to move the seat back in order to get in my car, because he is a lot bigger than my girlfriend. That got a good laugh out of him and a response of, "Let's hope so!" That's another thing with Hacksaw. I hate exclamation points, but I feel like I would be doing a disservice if I did not end every Hacksaw quote with an exclamation point. He's a loud dude with a lot of energy.

Hacksaw talked about how he got started in wrestling. Fritz Von Erich recruited him while he was playing football at SMU, but he never thought he would do it, because he wasn't a wrestling fan and was focusing on football. But after a year with the Atlanta Falcons and a year in the CFL, he got started in wrestling and the rest is history.

Hacksaw also disliked that they have a bunch of writers from Hollywood coming up with the storylines and writing down everything the wrestlers are supposed to say. So some nerd writer comes up to Hacksaw and hands him a script, Hacksaw respond, "You think you can tell me what I'm going to say!?" The writer responds that this is what Vince wants him to say. So you know what Hacksaw did? He read the script and collected his paycheck.

Would you like spoilers? If not, skip to the next paragraph. But lets just say that if you are patiently waiting for a Hacksaw appearance on a WWE television program, you won't have to wait long. Tuesday is the Great American Bash Smackdown, and Hacksaw will be there, hopefully cracking skulls and happily carrying a 2X4.

As he was leaving, I asked him whether he still watches wrestling. He told me that he doesn't, and then dropped this analogy on me, "A butcher doesn't watch somebody chop meat on his day off!" That analogy makes very little sense, because nobody watches people chop meat for fun, but even though its batshit crazy, it's still awesome, because Hacksaw said it.

The thing that I'm left with is wishing Hacksaw was always around. Not only is it incredibly easy to get a USA chant going, but his presence is the only time where it is socially acceptable to yell HOOOOOOO! with ladies present, and I dig that.

In conclusion, Hacksaw Jim Duggan is awesome, and if you have the chance to drive him to the airport, no matter what time it is, you should totally take advantage of that opportunity.