William Jeffrey "Jeff" Hawkins of St. Cloud, Florida, was overwhelmingly voted as this week’s Nob of the Week after he attacked the Orlando Magic's mascot (Stuff the Magic Dragon) during Orlando’s game vs. the Denver Nuggets this week. In the waning seconds of the Magic’s 102-98 win, Hawkins allegedly clotheslined Stuff, yanked him into the seats, and put him in a chokehold. As Orlando Police Lieutenant John O'Grady quipped, "Stuff was nearly snuffed." Hawkins, a 6-foot-2, 240 pound Magic season-ticket holder, later said he was so drunk that he remembered nothing of what transpired. If that’s true, he forgot quite a bit, most notably the police having to use three stun gun shots to subdue him and his own arrest for misdemeanor battery, disorderly intoxication, and resisting an officer without violence. After posting the $500 bail the next day, Hawkins stated, "I was really just trying to fun with him ... I am really sorry Stuff. Nobody would want to hurt you, my friend."

Since these actions are self-evidently Nob-of-the-Week worthy, we’ll simply summarize Hawkins’ actions in a musical tribute to his victim:

“Stuff the Magic Dragon”
(Sung to the tune of Peter, Paul, and Mary’s “Puff the Magic Dragon”)

Stuff the Magic Dragon, cheered McGrady’s threes
And riled up Orlando fans; yo, he was off da heeze!
Mister Jeffrey Hawkins loved that rascal Stuff
But one day he was at the game and wanted to play rough, oh

Stuff the Magic Dragon, cheered McGrady’s threes
And riled up Orlando fans; yo, he was off da heeze!
Stuff the Magic Dragon, cheered McGrady’s threes
And riled up Orlando fans; yo, he was off da heeze!

Hawkins he was drinking, he’d had so many beers
Stuff was running through the stands, trying to start cheers
But Hawkins stuck his arm out, he stopped Stuff in his tracks
Then he threw Stuff in a chokehold (that’s alleged – these are not facts), oh

Chorus

The police leapt into action, they made their stun guns sing
But one stun shot was not enough, for this redneck Rodney King
With three shots they subdued him, and dragged him to the clink
On the way they asked themselves, “Is he a furvert?, do you think?”

Jeff’s head was bent in sorrow when he got out on bail
“ I’m sorry Stuff, for hurting you, and pulling on your tail.”
His apology was heartfelt, but it was not enough.
So Hawkins is the weekly Nob, for his attack on Stuff, oh

Chorus

Seven-foot-seven Manute Bol (think Yao Ming minus about 50 pounds), whose favorite song is Prodigy's "Smack my Bitch Up", was charged for hitting his daughter, cutting her lip and interfering with a police officer this week. While the Nobatorium did not realize it was an illegal offense to cut someone's lip in West Hartford, CT (and we're very concerned for the local head shops that do a brisk lip piercing business alongside their sales of 'waterpipes'), the police were quite sure. As if that wasn't enough, the cops tacked on assault, making threats and disorderly conduct. Obviously, domestic violence should never be laughed at. But are six charges really necessary?

It also appears that simple domestic violence was not enough for Bol. Several media sources reported that Bol was injured during the dispute and needed medical treatment (which he received at the St. Francis Hospital and Medical Center in West Hartford). Forgive the inappropriateness, but did he get hurt when the cops tried to fold him into the squad car? Or was it when he got the stilts that he calls legs tangled beneath him and he fell to the ground? Sadly, it must have been when the 5-foot-something cop started jumping up and smacking this formerly gentle giant with his billy club.

Bol played 11 seasons in the NBA, blocking more shots per minute than anyone in league history. Notice that the Nobatorium did not enshrine Bol as the greatest shot blocker in NBA history. Nor was he the greatest scorer or rebounder. In fact, he was so terrible at the game of basketball that most articles about the man list his rebounding average before his scoring average. Of course, when your career averages (4.2 rpg, 2.6 ppg) make Mamadou N'diaye look like Hakeem Olajuwon, well, you have a problem. However, the Nobatorium does believe that, with all due respect to Dirk Nowtizki, Bol should be enshrined as “the greatest foreign-born player over 7 feet tall ever to shoot more than 100 3-pointers during one season in a Don Nelson offense.” And that’s an honor some men would die for.

Bol may or may not earn that title, but for smacking his daughter in the face, causing a serious row with the police, and irreparably adding his name to the NBA's stat book, he will forever be enshrined as this week’s Nob of the Week.

In a shocking turn of events, Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake have been voted as Nobs of the Week for their introduction of an unlicensed Mardi Gras theme into this year’s Super Bowl Halftime Show. There’s not much need to go into the details. Unless you’re dead or have no short term memory you know what happened, you’ve seen the pictures, and you probably even have a friend who Tivoed the whole thing, so you’ve re-viewed the event in frame-by-frame slow motion. But, to summarize, at the end of their performance last Sunday, Timberlake ripped off the portion of Jackson’s Catwoman-esque outfit that covered her left breast, thereby exposing her bare breast (and enormous nipple ring) on live national television. Despite MTV’s advertised claims that the show would have an “explosive climax” (and yes, we could make a pun there, but we won’t, and we’re all the better for it), the pair claimed they had no idea her breast would come into view and that they had only planned to expose her bra.

This decision was nob-worthy for so many reasons it boggles the mind. If Timberlake was planning to deny that he knew her breast would be exposed, shouldn’t he have looked surprised when Ms. Happy came out to play? If Jackson was planning to bare her breast, couldn’t she at least have donned some less-massive jewelry and thus afforded her adoring public a full-on nipple view? Didn’t they run the horrifying risk of her nipple ring getting caught as her clothes were torn off? If they were gonna go for it, why not GO FOR IT and strip down to the full monty for their entire number? Lastly, wasn’t it a tragic oversight not to include LaToya?

Ultimately, though, Timbo and JJ’s worst sin is the crime they’ve committed against our great country. Over-exposure of women’s bodies on national television is a clear and present danger to our nation’s moral order and social fabric. Because of these two renegades, the basic decency of American culture has been called into question, and our prestige on the international stage can only suffer. Important allies like *England* and *Germany* obviously recognize that nudity on television is a very serious problem. Hopefully the ongoing public outcry over “Boobgate” will send a message to the rest of world that we, as a county, have our priorities in order and thus undo the damage done by this week’s Nobs of the Week. Yeah, right!

* Warning, links may contain nudity

Kazuhito Tadano, a right-handed pitcher currently playing in the Cleveland Indians’ farm system, was elected to the Nobatorium this week for the never-ending stream of fabrication he’s produced in an attempt to explain the fact that he starred in a gay porn video while he was attending college in Japan. It’s not the fact he starred in the video that makes him nob-worthy. Tadano is elected to the Nobatorium based on his inability to provide any semblance of a believable explanation for his actions. The best he’s come up with is that he appeared in the movie because he was a poor college student and was desperate for cash and decided to "take one for the team".

Okay, first of all, there are plenty of ways for college students to make the money they need for beer, whip-its, pizza, a foosball table, and the all the other essentials. Some people wait tables. Some deliver pizzas. Some take terrible 9-to-5 jobs during the summer. There are magical, never-ending fountains of cash known as “student loans.” If you really get down to the felt, there are even sperm-banks that will pay you $50 bucks AND give you magazines if you jerk off into a cup (Word on the street is that’s how C. Everett Coop put himself through med school). There are plenty of ways for a college kid to make a quick buck without resorting to “fielding a passed ball,” “putting yourself in scoring position,” or any other baseball-innuendo-laden way you can say “starring in a porno.”

Second of all, um, hello, he’s a student-athlete! And a star athlete at that. Those guys aren’t exactly rolling around campus in Uncle Ted’s El Camino wearing Dress-For-Less jeans and a hand-me-down shirt. Jalen Rose admitted to taking multiple thousands of dollars from Bill Martin and the NCAA didn’t even bat an eye. Allen Iverson used to cruise by the classes he was skipping in a convertible that was “on loan” from a booster. Sure, Tadano went to college in Japan, but that’s one of the most baseball-crazed countries on earth. Tadano couldn’t find one single rich alumnus who would give him some “interest free advances?”

So Mr. Tadando, listen. We’re not hateful, but we’re not stupid either. You’re gay? That’s cool. Don’t want to come out? Can’t blame you. Who would want to bear the discrimination that an openly gay athlete would surely face? But the only reason you and several of your college baseball teammates suited up (or would it be suited down?) for a porno is money? Only a nob could think we’d believe that.

You knew it was only a matter of time before the man they call Me-shawn showed up in the Nobatorium. Keyshawn Johnson earned this week’s Nob of the Week title with his Tony Soprano-like dedication to the art of intimidation and threat-making. He started out with a move that was an obvious one-up over fellow cell phone innovator Joe Horn (who’s rumored to be working on new end-zone celebtration featuring two carrier pigeons, a dwarf, and neon body paint). Me-shawn, crazed by jealousy and blue balls, temporarily became the Verizon Guy’s bastard alter ego (“Do you fear me now? Good.”) when he allegedly used the celly to call up his ex-wife’s new love interest and threaten to “beat him to a pulp.” And why not? “Beat him to a pulp” is exactly five syllables which, as you’re undoubtedly already aware, is the same number of syllables in the outside lines of Japansese haiku poems. Everyone knows that ladies love poems. The Nobatorium has learned that this alleged “threat” was actually one line in a series of love haiku Keyshawn had written to win his woman back. Here, in a Nobatorium exclusive, is Keyshawn’s full ode:

My love for you grows
Like a non-cancerous mole
On Pat Sajak’s face

Your new man must go
I could walk him out, or just
Beat him to a pulp

At last we’re alone
You can relax, have some wine,
And hook up some head

Unfortunately, Keyshawn’s cell-phone preview of his love poem trifecta didn’t get the job done. So, like any competitive athlete, he decided to raise his game. Johnson approached his lady’s new man, John Mahannah, Jr., at a January 9th funeral in Oakland and threatened to “hurt or kill” him.” Yes! Show off that lack of impulse control and penchant for physical violence! That’s sure to have the ex beating down the door in no time flat. Actually, the only things that happened in no time flat were:

1) Mahanna went to court and on January 14th was granted a restraining order that mandates that Keyshawn stay at least 100 yards away from him (another victory for our hero, since that’s closer than he’s allowed to get to the Tampa Bay practice facility)

2) While he was in court, Mahanna also filed a suit claiming Johnson had caused him mental anguish and should have to pay general, punitive, and special damages (Anyone who actually bought and read Just Give me the Damn Ball should make sure they hop on that gravy train, too)

3) In an ironic twist, the same day the lawsuit was filed, Johnson was robbed at gunpoint in nearby Berkeley.

4) Johnson was elected Nob of the Week in a landslide.

Eagles fans have always been known for rowdiness, hostility, and unbridled passion. Now, they will proudly be known for one more thing: utter nobbery. Prior to the Eagles’ NFC Conference victory against the Green Bay Packers, thousands of Eagles fans camped out in the Lincoln Field parking lot for a weekly tailgating session. It was a glorious day, perfect for a variety of activities: drinking beer, eating sausage, drinking lager, eating wurst, drinking ale, eating schnitzel, etc. Perfect, that is, until a few standout cheese-steak-heads forgot one of the three cardinal rules of tailgating:

1. Never serve a chilled pate on a warm dish. Though not dangerous, the heat from the dish can cause the pate to brown slightly, creating an unsavory odor.
2. When trying to figure out how many cases of beer to buy per person, remember, they’re like breasts: one is not enough, three is too many.
3. Burning the meat is bad. Burning down everything around you is worse.

The result of their momentary black out, er, memory lapse? It’s probably hard to believe that bad things can happen when you mix alcohol, fire, cars, and German meats, but it’s true. Instead of extinguishing their cooking fires, the Eagles’ fans decided to leave them burning hot, just like Michael Jackson’s love for … forget it. But as a result, while the Eagles destroyed the Packers’ title dreams on the field, out of control fires destroyed five cars and one RV in the parking lot. And it wasn’t just one forgetful Philadelphian. Philip Goldsmith, the City of Philadelphia's managing director explained, “we had between two dozen and three dozen fires" prior to the Packers game. Somewhere, right now, Smokey the Bear is by himself in bar, getting drunk and muttering about being a total failure in life.

Some fans throw batteries at the opposition. Some throw empty beer bottles. Others have even been known to throw snow and ice. But Philly fans stand in a class all alone for boldly posing the question, “Why throw things at the opposition when you can throw thousands of dollars down the drain instead?” For their collective stroke of genius, Eagles fans are forever enshrined as Nobs of the Week. May God grant them peace and a favorable insurance settlement.

It doesn’t happen too often, but when Rasheed Wallace gives an interview, it’s worth reading. Wallace has been selected as Nob of the Week in light of comments he made during the course of an interview for The Oregonian (get the full text here).

It wasn’t his “colorful language” (as appropriately tasteful media outlets are calling it). It wasn’t his defense of the CTC rant. It wasn’t even him saying that he’s not embarrassed about getting arrested for possession of marijuana. It was just all the stuff he said that was straight-up, flat-out wrong. Not wrong like, a little bit off. Wrong like, Bass-Ackwards. For instance, “they just want to draft … all these high school cats.” Yup, it’s true. That’s why David Stern has been lobbying for a requirement that anyone who declares for the draft be at least 20 years old; he’s, um, using reverse psychology. “I do my talking … with help defense.” And nothing says commitment to team defense like a 5 year low in defensive rebounding and a career low in steals. “When it really matters is in the locker room or at practice. That’s when leadership comes up.” Nope, Sheed’s leadership came up big-time when he threw that towel in Arvydas Sabonis’ face back in April of 2001. “[The referees] came in messing with me… Why? I don’t know.” Yeah, a total mystery. Certainly things like Wallace throwing another towel, this time in the face of referee Gary Benson in February 2001, couldn’t be relevant.

All of this raises the question (nearly as urgent as the one posted here) when will they learn that enough is enough in Portland? No, not the management or the fans, the players. Long, rambling conspiracy theories? Vaguely paranoid apathy? I could swear I hear Pink Floyd in the background. Sheed and his Blazer pals may need to cut back the frequency of their pre-practice bong breaks. Or maybe just stick to “both teams played hard” when they’re dealing with the media. Regardless, for his blatant disregard of fact, accuracy, and reason, Rasheed Wallace earns his first Nob of the Week Award. Who else is surprised it took him this long to win one?

Daimler Chrysler and all the organizers of the “Lingerie Bowl” have been elected to the Nobatorium this week for their genius idea to hold a pay-per-view seven-on-seven tackle football game between models wearing skimpy lingerie during the half-time of the Super Bowl. Envisioned as an “alternative” to the traditionally tired half-time show hosted by the NFL, the organizers leased the LA Coliseum and planned on filling the stands with … (we don’t know, and they didn’t either, so let’s just more strippers, I mean, substitute players). NFL has-beens Lawrence Taylor and Eric Dickerson signed on to “coach the two teams” (read: get paid to ogle). Maybe they could hire Patrick Ewing & some other former Gold Club regulars as sideline reporters. In any event, the coaches are sure to feel right at home amidst a group of hot, half-naked chicks. Let’s just hope they don't get carried away and start stuffing 20’s into the ladies’ g-strings.

After initially agreeing to sponsor this marketing plot and spending four months and countless dollars planning the event, Chrysler withdrew its sponsorship at the first hint that the event might be criticized as sexist and objectifying. What? Did they not see this coming? Who cooks up the idea of hosting an event that could be called the Give Me Some Sugar Bowl and is surprised when feminist activists don’t just wink and say, “Eh, boys will be boys?” That’s like agreeing to sponsor a cock fight and then backing out because an animal rights group staged a protest. In any event, Daimler-Chrysler showed true corporate backbone and, much to the dismay of 15 year old boys everywhere, withdrew sponsorship faster than you can say, “No more 3-martini lunches for the marketing department.” For this brilliant string of decisions, Daimler Chrysler and all of the organizers of this event receive the meritorious Nob of the Week award.