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Showing posts with label Erin Andrews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Erin Andrews. Show all posts

Friday, April 4, 2008

Hellooo, Brooklyn!

This is funny. When I was home for Easter I was pleasantly surprised to find this year's Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue in my basket.

It wasn't until later that week that I had a chance to flip through the magazine and read some of the stories. Oddly enough, there are pictures in the magazine too, and one or two or three in particular caught my eye.

There was a girl my age named Brooklyn Decker. If her parents could have seen 20 years into the future they might as well have named her Dolly Decker and had her sing country songs.

There were three reasons I didn't start scouring the universe for her contact information. 1. I had just shook Erin Andrews' hand about a week before and there was no way I was going to cheat on her already. 2. She's from Ohio. 3. The whole Andy-Roddick-called-dibs-in-September thing.

Now it looks as if Roddick has joined Tiger Woods and Tom Brady as the happiest men in the world. Not only is he engaged to a relatively recently legalized and not-so-long-ago-teenager, but he finally beat Roger Federer again yesterday in the quarterfinals of the Sony Ericsson Open.

Like Roddick, I have anger problems, play a sport closely associated with country clubs, and once beat the No. 1 player in my sport (on XBox,) so does that mean I have a real chance with Erin after all?

(Didn't get the title? "Hello, Brooklyn!")

Sunday, March 30, 2008

'Erin' on the side of caution

It looks like I have some competition for my dream wife.
A friend pasted me this link yesterday informing me that Playboy readers think that Erin Andrews is the hottest sportscaster on TV.
Tell me something I don't know, Hef & Co.
By now my recent surge of puppy love has been well-documented by none other than yours truly. But I was still holding out hope that the rest of you creeps hadn't noticed my former Florida-Gators-basketball-dancer-turned-tame-bachelorette was the hottest thing in sports since the Mitchell Report.
Too bad for you all that I've already met her and told her of my intentions to be her co-worker at ESPN someday, although I promise not to get the company sued.
What I did leave out though were my marriage plans. It's safe to assume she doesn't read my blog, so the element of surprise will be as strong as my heartbeat when I fall to one knee.