Do you watch “Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel” on HBO? If you don’t, you should — hands down, it’s the best damn sports show on teevee. Anyway, in the installment that debuted last night, there’s a really dynamic piece on how NFL Films was established and how the work of the Sabol family continues to set the bar for excellence for the entire genre of sports documentary filmmaking. The segment is chock fulla fantastic footage AND interesting tidbits; like, for instance, did you know that Steve Sabol invented sports bloopers? I know, me neiths!

After watching this segment, the video iPod IN MY MIND started going bazonker crazed. First thing that came up on random shuffle was Dire Straits and their insanicus “Walk Of Life” video. Gotta admit, I never really got the connection between the song and the video treatment (and judging from the quizzically bored expression on Mark Knopfler’s face throughout the entire vid, neither did he). But then, justlikethat, my brain magically fastforwarded (or did it reverse?) to the all-time best VHS cassette Yahweh ever even DREAMED of creating, “NBA Superstars.” If you were a red-blooded American male who was between the ages of 8 and 18 in 1988, I guaranTEE you watched this video at least a hundred and fifty million times.

Looking back at the video now, with almost twenty years of hindsight, some of the pairings that seemed like the bomb ass whip at the time feel REALLY strange looking through the cultural lens of 2007. For instance, Air Jordan’s greatest moments (at least at that point) were scored to “Take My Breath Away.” Even worse, one could make a valid argument that The Human Highlight Reel began his slide to irrelevance the very SECOND that he was paired with Yanni. These two curious editorial choices aside, the rest of the video is pure bliss, pure magic and just as hott now as it was back in the 80s. Bear witness…

• Hakeem “The Dream” Olajuwon, “How Ya Like Me Now”
• Magic Johnson, “Control”
• Isiah Thomas, “The Right Stuff”
• Charles Barkley, “The Warrior”

Lest you thought I forgot, there IS one more genius pairing that I have not yet mentioned. Rather than spend precious time regaling you with my boring memories, I’ll let these four simple words speak for themselves: Larry Bird, “Small Town”!

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Although it’s difficult to put a date of origin¹ on the most classic of all the classic playground putdowns, it’s fair to say that “Let’s not and say we did” was WAY ahead of its time. Not only did it predate the whole revolution of “Irony As Comedic Device” by a full five years², it had so much new school appeal and relevance to the children of the `80s that old-standbys like “Your mother wears combat boots” were wiped from the lexicon almost overnight. What this has to do with the price in China, I’m not quite sure. But I figured it was a good a start as any to get into my first bullet-stizz post in weeks. Snarls!

• Quick shout-out to John Carney … get well soon, holmes!

• “If you have it, you don’t need it. If you need it, you don’t have it. If you have it, you need more of it. If you have more of it, you don’t need less of it. You need it to get it and you certainly need it to get more of it. But if you don’t already have any of it to begin with, you can’t get any to get started which means you really have no idea how to get it in the first place, do you? You can share it, sure. You can even stockpile it if you’d like, but you can’t fake it. Wanting it, needing it, wishing for it. The point is, if you’ve never had any of it, ever … people just seem to know.”

• It’s been almost a full-month since it happened, but time doesn’t seem to be reducing your Uncle Grambo’s ire over Owen Gleiberman naming “Casino Royale” his #1 Film of 2006. It’s hard to go TOO ballistic on a fellow Wolverine alumnus, so instead I’ll ask him two simple questions: first, how high were you when you saw “Casino Royale”? Second, how can I get my hands on somma that stuff?

• Binky’s Girls — Easily the best SFW gallery of babes that this blogga has come across in `07. And when I say SFW, I mean SFW … but barely.

• If you haven’t yet experienced the highwire hysterics of Zarf, resident tranny on “All My Children”, your time is now. Your big, masculine hands will thank you for it later.

• Your Uncle Grambo would be lying if I said that I ever really got over the way that the 1993 NCAA basketball championship game went down. Nearly 14 years later, I still harbor a great deal of resentment towards Chris Webber. Not just because of the outcome of that game, mind you, but because of the way that his selfish actions decimated the entire basketball program at Michigan. But now that he’s a Piston, I’m torn. As much as I hate C. Webb, I heart the Pistons. This oughta be interesting…

• Lastly, I just wrapped up Special Topics In Calamity Physics, Marisha Pessl’s mostly wonderful debut novel. I say “mostly” wonderful because the last 100 pages or weren’t able to match the level of intensity that the book’s earlier sections established, but then again, the real joy in reading this book has very little to do with what happens to the characters, plot-wise. For this reader, the conscious decision to focus less on plot and instead indulge on Pessl’s delicious phrasing resulted in an experience akin to eating a hot fudge sundae — the key to enjoying both rests in your ability to balance competing desires. Do you savor every bite, or do you finish it off quickly?

¹ For the sake of this argument, let’s just say that it’s been around since at least 1980, the year your Uncle Grambo matriculated into Brewster Elementary school.
² Dennis Miller became host of SNL’s “Weekend Update” in 1985.

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Even though your Uncle Grambo is a PROUD owner of Anchor Bay’s tremendously best limited edition release of “The Wicker Man” (now OOP, suckas), I’ve never been one of those cats that fawn incessantly about what an achievement it is. Truth be told, I’m a WAY bigger fan of the packaging than I am of the actual film itself. Unfortch, this often seems to be the nature of these so-called cult classics. More often than not, the hype heavily outweighs the final product itself (see also: the truly TERRIBLE Criterion release of “Equinox”).

Because of my history with the film, I had no real intentions of seeing the remake that hit theaters last summer. I suppose it didn’t help matters much that the undeniably durst Neil LaBute was at the helm. But now, after seeing this gut-bustingly HIGHlarious two-minute lowlight reel of Nic Cage turning in his what just may go down as THE batshit performance of The 00s, “The Wicker Man” has now been entered into my Netflix queue. Let’s be frank, we haven’t been privy to a performance this crazed since Pacino in “The Devil’s Advocate”! Doesn’t get much more best than this, y’all. [via The Grizz]

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Let’s set the scene, shall we? It’s Saturday afternoon in Ann Arbs, back in the heady days of January 2001. In the [INSERT NUMBER HERE] block of Sig Vills, your Uncle Grambo and Peabs decide to take a momentary break from a marathon session of “Mario Party 3″ to make our way over to the Quality 16 Theaters. What could possibly rouse us from the delights of Bumper Bizzies and Eatsa Pizza? A chance to catch Marla Sokoloff on the big screen in “Sugar & Spice”, opening weekend stizz. Obvs!

Back then, Sokoloff was probably the most underrated bomb snatch on television. The type of chesty lass who, quite literally, put the “boob” to the Boob Tube. She may have only had a minor role on “The Practice”, but she played a major role in the fantasies of thousands (if not millions) of horny dudes at the time. But over the course of the next few years, she suffered a slow fade into obscurity — much like the show that introduced her to the mainstream in the first place. After being dumped by James Franco, this blogga was fairly certain that I’d seen the last of Miss Marla.

But over the last few weeks, seemingly out of nowhere, pictures of her started popping up on the Internerd. What gives? Turns out that Sokoloff is starring in a new show on ABC that awkwardly marries (literally) the preparation that goes into planning nuptials with the flashback structure of “Lost.” I know, it sounds fucking durst. But at the same time, it also means that Sokoloff will be bringin’ her redonkulous rack back to the small screen. Can’t wait to tell Peabs. Natch.

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