Tuesday, June 21, 2011

All Content Is Now At BROtocross.com

This is just a post to let everyone stuck in the stone ages know that I am no longer posting BRO content on the blogspot blog. If you haven't been following BROtocross.com then you have been missing out on, and I quote, "epic posts this week".

Thursday, June 16, 2011

On BROtocross.com - AMA Considering Adding A Parent Class At Pro Nationals?

Seriously, why are you still on blogspot? Go to BROtocross.com

Izzi 16th and Pregnant
In a cruel world where an act of pure ecstasy can inadvertently result in the most permanent and repressing of circumstances, action needs to be taken. Young men taken in their prime - still hungry and filled to the brim with that carnal desire to excel as the proverbial alpha male - instead forced into a life of solitude, their eyes glazed over with but a mist of their former manhood. I am of course describing the all too familiar condemnation that is parenthood. It is a subject that has been mentioned before, but the thought hit me again watching Nico Izzi at High Point. Performing what has now become his M.O., the man (term used with extreme leeway) holeshot the moto, charged for about two laps, then faded out of the top five, which will henceforth be referred to as "I Don't Know Where". The kid still has the pace to be running in the top three, he qualifies in the top 5 regularly. Izzi used to be what the average man would describe as "the shit". Kid was money, and he knew it. Honestly, he is probably still just as fast, speaking in relation to his competition. What I am saying is that I do not think Izzi has lost his speed or his ability. So what was the X-factor that sent him from top three to I Don't Know Where? He birthed a child. He is a daddy now. The stork flew his way and dumped a big, steamy miracle of life in a flaming paper bag on his doorstep. Sure, Izzi is not on factory equipment anymore, so you could use that as an explanation. But he is still turning blazing fast times every weekend, so I am not buying it. Fact is that having a child means that you are spending time teaching junior how to insert the circle shape into the right slot (which coincidentally is where the whole cycle starts for the next generation) when you could be ripping bike rides or doing figure 8s until the bike runs out of gas. You gotta want it, BRO.

Of course, I am picking on Nico because he was the one who inspired this blog, but we cannot leave out other deserving candidates for the parent class; I am talking to you, Josh. Grant was a certified slayer last year right up until about halfway through the Nationals. What happened, BRO? Oh snap, that was when your chick started smuggling hams out of the grocery store under her shirt, which is a crude euphemism for "she started rocking that baby bump." Why is it these guys who slowed down after they were infected with baby and not guys like Rattray, Reed, Carmichael, etc? Because guys like Grant and Izzi are still young; they are fueled by their energy (not as stupidly obvious as it sounds) and raw desire. That is why Reed can minivan his way to the $1 million championship party while Grant and Izzi are stuck with their 8th place $30 non-transferable Starbucks gift cards at Daddy and Me activities classes. I know it's tough boys, but if you want the skill, get her the pill.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Coming Back To Life With A Quad Guy Trying To Murder A Street Bike Guy With His Truck

Yes, it of course has been a weird couple of days for BROtocross, as I am in the middle of kicking the blogger habit and going at it like a big boy media mogul. It is going well, considering that yesterday I was having a legitimately diagnosable panic attack. Hopefully, you are reading this on the new site, but until I am sure that no one is still being forwarded to blogspot, I am going to post on both of the sites. So enjoy blogspot while it still lasts, because its days are numbered. And if you still actually go to BROtocross.blogspot.com, stop being an asshole, 'k BRO? Alright, let's get into this.

I actually watched this whole video, which everyone knows is nearly impossible with internet videos over two minutes that do not involve one or more of these three things: a motocross race, a naked woman, or a laughing baby. Okay, hopefully not the last two at the same time. This video - it was wicked lame. The initial credits are way over selling it, and basically it is over after the truck tries to run the dude off the road about 1:15 in. Guy drives like a psycho for a while then they argue and call the cops on each other, but that is about it. But you know why I blogged this? Yeah, there's a quad in the back of that sumbitch. Textbook quad behavior, of course. Only a real asshole would pull some shit like that. And only a real asshole would ride a quad, no? Ipso facto, textbook quad behavior. And taking place on a road in rural Kentucky, you can bet the thousand farms they pass in this video that this guy is late for a clan meeting. And is that a crowbar in his hand as he first gets out of the truck? Is it 1970?

Monday, June 13, 2011

Moto's Golf Ambassador Drops A Hole In One At Washington DC Event, Proceeds To Not Give A Fuck Like A Boss

As some of you know, my bike is cooked and I am indefinitely out of commission. So, I have been playing a lot of golf in my off-time. Not that it really has any significance to this blog, I am just offering it up and you can take it how you want it.

I love what this Fowler kid brings to the table. I already blogged a little somethin-somethin about him being a rider-turned-golfer, but here he is popping up in the news again. He does not give a fuck what golf used to be, he is only seeing what golf is going to be; rocking his tee shirt and backward BRO cap, scaring old people at country clubs all around. My grandparents are those types and while we all love them to death, I know for a fact that they would be throwing up everywhere seeing this kid dropping aces in their backyard. And his reaction to this shot is so perfect - completely cool with a countenance that subtly states "I knew that ball was in before I hit it." Damn fine shooting, Rickie. Damn fine. You can represent the MX world to the masses anytime, BRO.

P.S. Announcer was the icing on the cake in this video. I will be grabbing a sound byte of that, no doubt. "That looks like money." Totally, BRO.

Did You Know They Raced Motocross In Kenya?

Nothing especially special about this, just some motocross in Kenya. When are they going to field a des Nations team? These guys are tearing Africa a new one, by the looks of it. I feel like such an ignorant American watching videos like this. In my mind, motocross does not exist outside of north North America (i.e. everything but Mexico) and Europe. My immediate reaction was "Whoa, they can afford bikes in Kenya?" Some of them are even on 2011s. What the hell is going on here? I figured I would be seeing some Blood Diamond shit happening in the background, helicopters shooting missiles over head, you know, that whole chestnut. I know that all that civil war business is in Sierra Leone, but Africa is like the size of the Mall of America but not as well lit(not a racist joke, I'm just typing, words came out). Nope, just a regular race. Nice bikes, nice weather, and solid reporting by name-I-cannot-pronounce guy.

Mike Alessi Is A Victim Of Premature Startulation

Yes! Another Alessi post. I really feel like it has been a while. I feel like BROtocross has been a touch out of the comfort zone, but now we are right back into it; the bread and butter of BRO. Mike Alessi jumped the gate at High Point. If you recall, he's been accused of pulling stunts like this since the amateur days. The question is do we really believe he is intentionally cheating? For what it's worth, I am going to go ahead and say no. First of all, every racer knows that jumping the gate is a pretty major gamble; essentially, you have to time it as perfectly as getting a legitimately perfect start, so by that logic there is nothing to gain from the cheat. Second of all, this is just textbook Alessi for me. The type of guy to get all loose cannon with the clutch on the start is the type of guy who would pull out in the first lap of practice guns a blazing as if that was the only time he would know the sweet taste of being the first rider across the line. Oh, tough hit, BRO. How much do you want to bet that this is something that affects him throughout his daily life. If I actually believed that he had sex with his girlfriend, I would make a joke about his incompetence in doing so here. But I don't. That 45 seconds of ecstasy is definitely not worth those depleted testosterone levels, right BRO?

I think everyone also needs to cool it with the "Navy Seal" talk about Alessi. The resemblance is kind of cancelled out when your composure on the motorcycle is like that of a frightened field mouse. Now you are just insulting America with the nickname, and I don't take kindly to those types. Watching Mike ride is a whole new type of painful. I do not give a fuck if he is built, he looks like he weighs about 140 soaking wet when he's on the bike. His elbows look like they are being propped up by a couple of those elbow casts that doctors decided to make to fuck with arm-injury victims; you know, the type that when they show it to you, you honestly consider just dealing with a broken fucking arm for a few months just to avoid. BROken arm style for days, Mike.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

I Think Stewart Just Won The Outdoors

I do not usually enjoy blogging on the weekend, but sometimes you see something and you say to yourself "I'm not going to not post this." So there you have it. Anyway, James posted this pic to Twitter last night and once again I find myself drawn into his fan circle. I feel like one of those little dogs at the vet being pulled by the leash into the examination room. I don't want to be there, but I find myself moving that direction against my own supposed free will. Stewart is a rugged maniac on a bike, and we all need reminders like this every so often. I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, when James is not out there winning, there is this distinct aura of instability in the universe. I do not like Stewart; he is a weird dude and the way his craziness-to-fame ratio parallels Lady Gaga's is downright scary. But I like good style. If someone is throwing down scrubs like this, it's not that I want to like them, I have to. It's a curse. I am the victim here, people.