The Los Angeles Lakers still don’t have a head coach.  It’s now been 3 months since their schedule mercifully came to a close and there is still no head-man to lead the legendary purple and gold franchise for the upcoming season.  There’ve been potential hires.  There’s been rumors of big names cashing fat checks and heading to Hollywood.  But, so far?  The Lakers have found themselves empty-handed.

In recent weeks, however, the Lakers have appeared to be leaning towards former Cavaliers coach, Byron Scott.

Kind of.  Sort of.

The story broke mid-week last week that Byron Scott was going in for his third interview with the Lakers organization.  His third!  He wasn’t interviewing for a position in the CIA deep cover operations unit.  He wasn’t signing on to be a solo-mission astronaut being sent into deep space with no human contact and billions of dollars of equipment not to mess up.  He’s essentially going to be scribbling down a few plays on a clipboard and trying to keep Kobe Bryant from choking out Robert Sacre for being so Robert Sacre-ish.

All those interviews beg the question: what the hell were they asking him in all of those hours spent talking things over?  Well ask that question no more.  We here at Burnpoetry were able to obtain a confidential interview questionnaire that Scott was asked to fill out by the top Lakers brass.  As you can see below, it’s no wonder it’s taken him so long to try to land the gig.

1.  2 Trains leave San Pedro, California at 3:30 PM. Train 1 is driven at 45 MPH and is piloted by a Swagductor, who is wearing bejeweled gator-skinned loafers that have 3-inch-spikes sticking out of them and is currently dating an Australian rapper.  Train 2 is being driven 52 MPH by the most homicidally competitive player the NBA has seen since Michael Jordan.  If both conductors expect to average 17 shots per game and the Lakers have just picked up a shoot-first point guard who is prone to turnovers, how long will it be until there’s a gigantic, steaming pile of train-wreck rubble at center court?


A) 15 Games into the season
B)  The All-Star Break
C)  Instantaneously.  Like, Polaroid picture fast.
D)  You’re fired.

2.  (Please circle one) Are you #teamlamar or #teamkhloe?

3.  Let’s say, purely, super-hypothetically, that you had an older sister who was smarter, more charismatic, and wildly more competent at running an NBA franchise.  What would you do about it?


A)  Ever heard of OJ?  I’d pretty much do that
B)  Spitefully hammer the team that she and your father loved directly into the ground like a stake on a railroad chain gang
C)  Wake up every morning thanking the sweet lord above for nepotism strong enough to land you the organizational reigns
D)  Plant 10 pounds of weed in Phil Jackson’s her boyfriend’s trunk and phone in an anonymous tip.

4.  True or False: Pau Gasol is the Spanish version of Benedict Arnold?


A)  True
B)  False

5.  Mitch has $56,912,541.  Kobe takes away $23,500,000 and Jeremy takes away $14,898,938.  How many dollars does Mitch have left to flush down a gold-plated toilet on over-the-hill veterans?

A)      Steve Nash Dollars and Carlos Boozer Cents
B)      √Juwanhoward
C)      Is Drew Gooden around still?
D)     Unlimited amounts.  The luxury tax can suck it.

6.  Are you cool with black people?  I know that sounds like a weird question, but there’s just a lot of heat out here at the Staples Center right now surrounding racists.

A)  Yes
B)  Are you a moron?

7.  Are you, in fact, a secret agent sent by Phil Jackson with the sole intent of bringing about the devious ruination of this once-great franchise?


A)  Yup
B)  Nah

8.  What is your personal philosophy with regards to growing a nasty mustache and constantly having people call you Mark Dantonio by mistake?

A)  Won’t happen on my watch
B)  ‘Stacheless 4 Lyfe

9. (The following is a guest question written by a confidential Lakers player)  What is the true meaning of life?

A)  Getting Kobe the best look in an isolation play run specifically for him
B)  Getting Kobe the best look in an isolation play run specifically for him
C)  Getting Kobe the best look in an isolation play run specifically for him
D)  Getting Kobe the best look in an isolation play run specifically for him

10.  Essay portion of the interview:

In 10,000,000 words or less, try to explain away the fact that this photo exists:


It’s that time of year.  When we’ve already had our Mid-Season classic.  We’ve already pretended to give a damn about Rory and a toothless Tiger finishing an ironic 69th at The British Open.  The World Cup has reached a conclusion and now we’re left to bitterly choke down the flavorless tonic of mid-season baseball while we wait for the football-hued light at the end of Summer’s tunnel.  In short: it’s time to pause and honor some of the sportingest sporters of the last sports year.

Sure ESPN has billions of dollars and a touching speech from a real journalist.  But this is also the time of year for another time-honored sports tradition: The 5th Annual Hatchspys.

We don’t give out many of the prestigious awards, but these highly coveted honors do give us yet another chance to care a little bit too much about sports.  Just the way I like it.  Without further ado, here are your 2014 Hatchspy award winners.


Plot Twist of the Year: LeBrontourage, Season 11


LeBrontourage has been a great show so far.  There was the title character’s promising start to his career, storming into the league with a ready-made NBA game, there was the inevitable fall from grace – collapsing under the weight of too-high expectations and a PR team with less brains than a zombie-eaten victim – and now the glorious return of the prodigal son.  It couldn’t have been scripted better by HBO’s Doug Ellin.  (*Author’s note: upon further IMDB’ing I discovered that not only did Doug E. fresh produce one of my favorite college-years shows, he also wrote the script for Phat Beach.  Do you hear that?  That’s the sound of my head being exploded by IMDB’s knowledge dynamite!)


The Assist of the Year Award: V. Stiviano

As much as it makes my skin crawl to give anything to V. Stiviano, we’ve got to hand it to her: she out-sleazed a sleaze and assisted in taking down one of the grimiest, racist-iest bags of douche since Marge Schott was getting a little too creepily excited over seeing a pitcher have 3 strikeouts in a row (Author’s note: KKK, anyone?).  It took a woman to give the NBA the opportunity or, dare I say, the balls to finally pull the trigger on getting rid of an owner who should’ve been left in the ‘80s with Duran Duran and  Members Only jackets.  What do you give to a woman with a stage-name that sounds like a venereal disease from the Civil War and a face that looks like it was designed by cat-scientists hell bent on cross-breeding with humans?  Give her what she wants most in life: another rich old per. . .and another visor.


Star whose name most sounds like a Harry Potter spell: Shabazz Napier


Now if only Harry could get Hogwarts to take their Quidditch players off of those NCAA meal plans.


Coach getting canned whose catchphrase was suddenly hilarious: Mark Jackson


“Mama, there goes that man.”  “Hand down. . .man down.”  It’s like Mark Jackson wrote all the terrible jokes himself.  That sure didn’t stop literally everyone with a Twitter account from firing off their best 140 character attempts at comedy. (*Author’s note: myself included.)  More than likely his new personal slogan has something to do with Joe Lacob.  And I’m guessing it’s not as happy-go-lucky as “Hand down. . .man down”


Most confusing sports story for dummies like me: Northwestern Unionizing

The good news is: I created an easy to follow flow chart to help clear things up.  Fear not, dumb sports fans.  I’ve got you covered.


Damn it.  That escalated quickly.  Turns out, I might not have as good of a handle on the whole “unionization of student-athletes” thing as I thought.  The good news is, it’s such a boring topic that you probably fell asleep before I got through the second part of that easy-to-use flow chart.


Most fun game attended: Nebraska V.S. Wisconsin

I’m not talking about the Huskers V.S. the Badgers on the field.  I’m talking about the game that took place on the court.

When the highly ranked Badgers came rolling into Lincoln Nebraska on March 9th to take on the suddenly-highly-relevant Nebraska Cornhuskers I knew it would be a big game.  The Huskers were on the precipice of the apex of the vortex of the madness.  We were, too fall too easily into the clichéd old saying, “On the bubble.”  It was a fascinating, precarious, self-doubting place.

The fascinating, hard-scrapping, team was there on the bubble.  The magnetic, frenetically energetic, Coach, Tim Miles, was there.  We were there.  And when a Husker team turns from “them” to “us” and from “they” to “we” it is truly a sight to behold.  The momentum for this particular game had been building, felt-tipped-drum-rolling, since the Huskers had pulled off a shocking upset of Michigan State on the road in mid-February.  That slow-simmering heat was ramped up into a flame-thrower of pent up angst, combusting years and years of ineptitude into a massive upswell in interest.

It all came to head as the Badgers found themselves battling against the team and a raucous crowd that had jammed themselves shoulder to shoulder, heart to heart, in an arena so packed it would have given a fire marshal heart palpitations.

The Huskers came out ahead.  Somehow, someway.  Taking all the “Maybe someday”s of so many dreary years to the full-blown, explosive immediacy of “we did it.”  Was it a championship?  No.  Did it launch us into a breathtaking win in the NCAA tournament?  Nope.

Did it absolutely feel like Nebraska turned a corner as a fanbase and a program and that we were going to sprint away from the shadows of that corner with all the haste of Blue-blazing-hellfire?  Definitely.  We’ll see what happens.  But it was, without a doubt, the game of the year for me.


Fashionista of the year: Johnny Rodgers


We all know I’m not a fashionable dude.  I still openly root for skinny jeans to cut off hipster leg-circulation to the point of amputation.  I am not a fan of bow ties on anyone other than my 2-year-old son.  But what I can get behind, fashion-wise, is something that is unanimously believed to be a gigantic steaming pile of fashion-trainwreck.  That was Johnny Rodgers at the Heisman ceremony.  (*Author’s note: the lady above summed up my feelings for Rodgers’ outfit quite well, actually.

Johnny came out in what I all the fashion blogs were referring to as “Bjorkback Mountain”, combining the sheer insanity of Bjork and the rugged ocular homicide of cocaine cowboy crashlanding onto a murderously blood red coat.  Man, woman, and child. . .did that put ‘em in the aisles.


He’s going home.  He’s going home.  Tell the world that he’s going. . .

Somebody cue the Diddy-Dirty Money.  Crank up the Motley Crue and tell Mama he’s comin’ home.

LeBron James is going back to Cleveland.  And what would such a monumental sports moment be without a bunch of dumb jokes by yours truly?  In this case I was Tweeting them out at break-neck pace to try to hang with the rest of the would-be comedians (*Author’s note: and a few actual comedians) as we all weighed in on Bron-Bron’s return to Cleveland.


LeBron James is a free agent.  I’m sure you know this already.

In fact, I’m sure at this point in the game, if you’re reading this article and you’ve watched any sports-related television in the past month, then your BJC (*Author’s note: Blood James Content) would be hovering at a not-safe-to-drive .23 if you were to blow into an ESPN microphone.

At this point, we truly only know 1 thing for certain regarding The King’s free agency: LeBron’s going to get paid.  He’s going to get a max deal.  He can Scrooge McDuck backstroke around in all the millions he’s made and get Warren Buffet to fold on an All-In poker hand based solely on his pile of chips.  We get that.

So, then, the question is: what would lure LeBron out of South Beach before he reaches the 8 titles he so boldly joked about during the Heat’s pre-season victory parade?

The answer, of course: the perks.

When you have as much money as LeBron, and you’re utterly unparalleled on the basketball court, it’s the little things that might make you sign on with a franchise.

We were able to gain exclusive access to the perk packages offered up to LeBron by all his free-agent suitors and submit them now for your reading pleasure.

Cleveland Cavaliers’ Free Agency Package

– The Cleveland Cavaliers will play every winter home game in their brand new arena: Suckitcleveland Municipal Arena, located in Miami Beach.


– Dan Gilbert will chain himself to a giant boulder at the bottom of an old missile silo somewhere in the Canadian wilderness so that he can never be heard from again.

– A starring role in the next Uncle Drew short film as Uncle Drew’s cousin (*Author’s note: streetball alias, Nightschool) that has to be smuggled out of his nursing home from under the nose of the creatively named and hyper volatile director of nursing, Rat Piley.


– A signed agreement that if the air conditioning ever goes out in their building, their building manager will immediately chainsaw through the power and burn the stadium to the ground.  Just to make sure the game cannot go on.

– Anyone claiming that “Dan Gilbert is My Boy!” will henceforth and forevermore be banished to the Aleutian Islands.

– First rights to the leftover hair from Anderson Varejao’s once yearly trip to the Barbershop.

– A Bone Thugs-n-Harmony remix to “Crossroads” that starts off just like this: “Bron Bron Bron Bron…Bron…Bron…Bron…Bron…Bron”.


Miami Heat Free Agency Package

– An all-expenses paid vacation to watch Dwyane Wade get illegal German-mad-scientist injections into his knees.

– A cameo in the next Michael Bay movie to be shot in Miami (*Author’s note: which will be his 77th film shot there.(*Secondary Author’s note: when in the hell is Bay going to quit dicking around and just make Bad Boys 3 already?)


– A promise that the team will absolutely, unequivocally, party in the city where the heat is on.  All night on the beach.  ‘Til the break of dawn.

– A minority stake in the Miami Marlins.  Actually, you know what?  Do you want to own the team?  Seriously.  Because we’ll just give you the team.  It’s yours.

– We will get Pitbull to stop rapping.  For 10 minutes.  A feat that has not been accomplished since an emergency laryngectomy in late 2002.

– We will guarantee you a Chris Bosh cameo in Jurassic Park’s latest installment.  And, yes, just like you requested: he will be playing a velociraptor.

– We will allow you to get onto the PA system to loudly berate Mario Chalmers in 20,000 decibel tirades after a lousy pass.

Dallas Mavericks Free Agency Package

– The answer to the one question that has plagued LeBron’s career since he was 18 years old: who shot JR?

– The chance to drop a sweet dime to Dirk Nowitzki and have the announcers call it “The Magic Bullet”.  (*Author’s note: too soon?)

– An oath signed in Marc Cuban’s blood that he will never, ever, let Delonte West come back around the team.

– Unlimited access to Dirk Nowitzki’s premium wiener-schnitzel collection.

– The chance to never be the most hated athlete in Dallas, no matter how things go.

– As your headband continues to move further back on your head, you can definitely pitch your idea of headband yarmulkes for Jewish streetball players to Marc Cuban on Shark Tank.


Houston Rockets Free Agency Package

– A clause stating that the city of Houston will give LeBron Mike Jones’ old phone number.

– A snipers posted in the catwalks of  The Toyota Center who have Kevin McHale’s direct orders to “Take the Shot” if Dwight Howard doesn’t shoot every single free throw of the 2014-2015 season underhand.

– The personal cellphone number to James Harden’s Beard Groomist.

– A written contract from the Houston Public School Board, stating that they will re-write their history books to show that the Battle of San Jacinto was not won by General Sam Houston, as previously believed, but by LeBron’s great, great grandfather Jebediah Methusela James.

– I’ll just let Slim Thug, the man solely responsible for the Rockets’ landing of Dwight Howard, explain the rest of the Rockets’ perk package:

He's a Logical Hogg


Phoenix Suns’ Free Agency Package

– Anything.  We will literally give you anything you want.  First born son?  Check.  Key to the city?  Check.  Dan Majerle throwback jersey collection?  Take it.  It’s all yours.

Los Angeles Lakers’ Free Agency Package

– A starring role in the sequel of a lifetime: Space Jam 2: Jam Harder.


– A signed affidavit from Kobe Bryant that he will only shout at you 3 times per scrimmage.

– Private weekly lessons in flopping from the producers of 47 Ronin.


– Jim Busss will demote himself from his franchise-ruining role of executive vice president of basketball operations.  His only public appearances will be in a recurring guest spot on The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

– A complimentary pair of Jack Nicholson’s weirdly oval, red-tinted, courtside sunglasses.

– A complimentary pair of Jack Nicholson’s weirdly young, skeeze-tinted, courtside dates.

Good times: Jack shares a joke with a courtside companion


Well, America, it looks like it’s our birthday.  And what better way to celebrate our independence than by blowing up Chinese-imported fireworks and gorging ourselves on hot dogs, right?

For me, personally, the 4th of July is one of the best days of the year.  It allows me to flaunt my unhealthy obsession with Lee Greenwood’s God Bless the USA with repeated overplaying, it gives me the chance to detonate more explosives than a special effects guru on a Michael Bay movie set, and it brings about what is potentially one of the weirdest, most insane “sport”ing events of the year: Nathan’s Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest.

I know what you’re thinking.  Gross.

And you’re right.

But if you’re thinking about the gross-out factor that comes from watching a dude cram 69 hot dogs directly into his cram-hole in the matter of 10 minutes, then you’re not going about this the right way, people.  And make no mistake about it, America, there is a right way to watch this, after all.

Here are 8 reasons you should definitely watch the Nathan’s Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest.

1.  1080p, Ultra-High-Def Slow-Mo Replays of Human Beings Crushing Through hot dogs.

That’s Joey Chestnut.  That’s the champ.  And that is pure, unadulterated, hilarity for me.  Maybe I’m a sicko.  Maybe I’m a whack job.  But something about watching a 30-year-old dude obliterate two hot dogs at once with his face screwed up into a mask of hideous anguish is hilarious to me.

What’s not hilarious?  That’s the exact same look I had on my face as I was stress-eating my way through Team USA’s loss to Belgium on Tuesday.

I feel relatively certain that if you were to catch this buzz-saw of blitzkrieging molars on a 3-D TV your head would explode like the Death Star.

2.  To Wonder Aloud, “How are all these professional eaters not fat?”

I’ve often wondered this same thing.  Getting fat isn’t hard.  In fact, it’s easy enough that I feel certain I’ve mastered it (*Author’s note: or at least gotten a PhD.).  It defies human logic that these eaters aren’t steaming piles of morbid obesity that have to be brought onto the stage with a Jabba the Hutt sized Hoveround.

Sure, there are outliers amongst the elite at the NFHDEC, such as my personal favorite Eric “Badlands” Booker (*Author’s note: pictured below) but on the whole they largely resemble scrawny hipsters or pseudo-athletes.

So if these guys who literally eat to pay the bills aren’t fat, maybe there’s hope for me?  What this piece of the NFHDEC tells me is that I can eat my way to a better body.  Thanks, Nathan’s, for helping me see the light.  Bring on the hot dogs and Coors Light.  I’m ready to shed some pounds.

3.  The Nicknames

“Badlands”, “The Black Widow”, “Jaws”, “Eater X”, “Crazy Legs”, and “Mega Toad” just to name a few.

They all sound like they belong in a straight-to-DVD sequel to Con Air.

(*Author’s note: how hasn’t a sequel to Con Air happened yet?  It has all the key elements of a Nicolas Cage movie. 1) It shouldn’t be made 2) It would allow Cage to run from stuff while it blew up and 3) Those are literally all the elements of a Nicolas Cage movie.)

Giving these guys and girls nicknames makes them seem badass.  It makes a dude who travels the country eating 6 pounds of Spam in 10 minutes seem like he’s less of a freak.  Kind of.

4. Eater X

Does this eater’s moniker sound like a mean nickname for an old boyfriend or girlfriend that’s packed on a few pounds since you’ve last seen them?  Absolutely.  Is it actually a white dude who puts on face paint to make himself into the Tech N9ne of food competitions?  Yup.


5.  Because Here’s the Official Schedule of Events for the Day


And here’s what the schedule for the day should look like:


Seriously, can you imagine what it’s like post-69 hot dogs?  It’s got to be like a human version of the Chernobyl disaster.  How would you like to be on the same Subway car as a recently-finished-pounding-9 lbs.-of-hot-dog Badlands Booker?  Forget having the actual contest on the air, I want to see the post-game reaction.  I’m not talking about ESPN analysts in to break it down and shout angrily over one another, I mean their reaction to exploding their stomachs more than the crew from Alien.

6.  To Watch Your Vegan Friends’ Heads Implode Like  a Dying Star

“All that meat!  All those innocent animals! GAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!” – The last words you may ever hear from your undoubtedly mustachioed and/or corduroyed friend.

7.  You Know Those Girls That Only Seem to Eat 3 Leaves of Their All-Kale Salad Because They’re Worried About How They’ll Fit in the Frame of Their selfies on Instagram?  Sonya “The Black Widow” Thomas Could Literally Devour Them in One Sitting.

While she’s never been able to hang with the elitest of the elite on the male side of the NFHDEC, “The Black Widow” is undoubtedly the HBIC (*Author’s note: Hot dogs and Buns InCinerator) in charge of the women’s contest.

8.  The Best Pause-Facing in “Sports”

Don’t know what pause-facing is?  It’s the art (*Author’s note: yes, I said art.) of pausing your T.V. during a show/event and catching someone pulling a completely ridiculous face.  Hall of Fame inductees include Arnold Schwarzennegger, Carson Daly, and the aforementioned Nicolas Cage.

But if you think those geniuses of GIF-dom and Pause-Face Mount Rushmore possibilities have a good pause-face, wait until you see a human being try to cram 26 hot dogs into their mouth in the first 2 and a half minutes of a contest.  You get faces like this:

And this:

So let’s all sit back, get the ketchup, and enjoy ourselves some hot dog eating contest.  Happy Birthday America.  Happy Birthday to us all.  Don’t forget the remote for some Pause-Facing supremacy.



Jurgen Klinsmann’s clearly got a lot going on in the run-up to the US National Team’s game against Belgium on July 1st.  We knew the head coach was a busy guy but, in an exclusive look at the US coach’s personal Google calendar page, we’re able to see just how busy he really is.

The head coach has got his entire day meticulously plotted out so that he can get maximum efficiency from himself and from his players.

Let’s take a look and see what Jurgen will be up to on Match day!

(*Author’s note: as usual, I apologize for the lousy formatting.  Just click on the Calendar and all will be revealed.)



So, you’re stuck at the office for what could be the biggest soccer match in American history, huh?  (*Author’s note: I’m sure this is debatable, or maybe even laughable to bigger soccer historians than I, but that’s my feeling.)

First off, that sucks.

Second off, I feel your pain.

No, seriously.  I’ll be there, right along with you, double clicking through screens chalk full of acronyms, legalese, and PowerPoint slides that utilize one of those corny-ass dissolving transitions every time.

Sure, some of you guys and girls might already have the day off (*Author’s note: lucky bastards) or some of you might be getting up from your parents’ couch in the basement to stumble out and grab an AM Crunch Wrap from Taco Bell with no other plans for your day than hitting the bong harder than Seth Rogen on 4/20, but some of us have to work.

The USMNT (*Author’s note: U.S. Men’s National Team, for those of you who don’t care or live in a Ted Kaczynski condo in the Montana woods) is going to be taking on Belgium at 3 PM CST — or in modern terminology, “Just Google it for your time zone” — and for most of us that means we’ll be smack dab in the middle of the work day.

So, what do you do?  You can try to call in.  You can hack and wheeze and try to self-impose a frog in your throat so large you sound like Louie Armstrong singing about wonderful worlds.  You can hope that Jurgen Klinsmann writes you another note to take the day off.

You can drown your sorrows in a freshly-renamed, steaming-with-pity, pile of syrup-doused Freedom Waffles and then sit at your cubicle blankly staring straight ahead and wishing that you could watch Tim Howard shred Marouane Fellaini’s manhood in 1080p.

Or. . .

You can follow these tips, catch at least some of the game on the low-low, and murder your work productivity while simultaneously exponentially increasing your patriotism just in time for Independence Day.  So, what’re you gonna do?

1.  Download the FIFA Smartphone App. or the Watch ESPN App

Are you essentially lining the pockets of that corrupt, plutocratic pissant, Sepp Blatter?  Are you continuing our societal decay into a social-media driven blackhole of non-real-time-interaction?  Who the F- cares?!?!  This is do or die, Red, White, and Blue, screaming eagles in a divebombing, talon-grenade of glory.

At this point, if you don’t have a smartphone you’re either my Mom or you’re still riding the horse and buggy into town with this guy to try to sell your handmade rocking chairs.

Get the App.  Use Twitter to openly root for Sepp to get a Blatter infection.  Give yourself a chance to watch the U.S. move on.

(*Author’s note: a word to the non-unlimited-data folks out there: make sure you hop onto a wireless network or you’re going to slash and burn through your data plan with all the grace of a napalm explosion.  I somehow got booted off my wireless while watching an earlier game in the Cup and ended up maxing out my data plan faster than you could say “Luis Suarez is a cannibal.”  You try explaining to your wife why it’s so crucial that you watch Brazil play Mexico to a 0-0 tie in the group stages that you just ran up a gigantic tab from Verizon.  See how it goes.)

2.  Make sure you come correct with your earbud game

Discretion is the name of the game, here, people.  It doesn’t matter if you dropped a hot $300 on a pair of Dr. Dre’s dopest Beats headphones, you can’t have the bossman see you toss on your gigantic, Princess Leia-looking red flags.

Whether you’re listening to the game on the radio, watching it on the phone/computer, or somehow pirating in a livestream from an obscure, virus-ridden site on the web it’s all about keeping things covertly low-key.

Run that flesh-toned ear bud up through your shirt like you’re Jack Bauer on a stealth mission.  It’s virtually undetectable by the ruling class of the office and it also allows you to melodramatically throw it out of your ear like a lip-syncing Beyoncé whenever something exciting happens in the game.

3.  Have your parachute page ready to go

What’s a parachute page?  It’s a digital panic room for when you hear the boss’ wingtip loafers heading your direction.  It’s what you use when it’s time to jump off the flaming, nose-diving, airplane of a career move that is live-streaming the World Cup on your office computer.

When you hear those ominous Steve Madden footfalls heading your direction just leap into an innocuous, psuedo-important looking document with a vague title that you have ready-made and you’ll appear to be doing actual, you know, office stuff.  Here’s one I whipped up in short order.


4.  Make sure your work schedule is clear for the time of the game


If it’s 2:45 and you hear someone further down your row mentioning a meeting or a project of any kind this is what you need to do:

5.  If you’re going to try to listen to the game/follow it on social media and then mad-dash to a TV in the company break room to watch the climactic last few minutes, you need a gameplan

You can’t just expect to catch the last few minutes of the United States of America V. Belgium without having a gameplan laid out to allow you to succeed.  I recommend drawing up a play and then preparing to execute when the time comes.



6.  Try to find company approved acronyms so you can technically chant “USA. . .USA. . .USA!” and still have it be work related.

Here’s a list that I was able to find online.  Chant away, people.

United States Attorney — For all you lawyers who will be watching in your leather chairs from your office that smell of rich mahogany.

United Synagogue of America — If you’re a soccer loving rabbi and you don’t want to get busted for catching the game.

United Scenic Artists — If you’re not actually employed.

Unicycling Society of America — If you’re working for an online dating company and you’re recommending to clients what not to put on their profile.

Universities Safety Association — If you’re really not very good at your job as a campus cop and you are catching some of the game while an entire football team of delinquents steal hundreds of bikes.

Underground Sewer Adapter — Because even plumbers need a break from working on pipes and fighting giant, prehistoric, monsters in your sewer system.