Andrew Luck has a book club. Wait--what?

"So when I read, I feel it tingle up in here."

For those of you not the slightest bit athletically inclined or aware of professional sports, Andrew Luck is a superstar NFL quarterback who plays for the Indianapolis Colts. He's like Peyton Manning without the Papa John's endorsements and noodly throwing arm or Tom Brady without the Brazilian supermodel wife and illicit air pump equipment. Andrew Luck is that good.

This makes it all the more surprising that Andrew Luck has started a book club. Athletes read? you might ask--and I know, I'm as startled as you by this revelation. But starting this month, Luck will introduce two books--one for "Rookies" (books for kids and teens) and one for "Veterans" (or, as he describes, "more seasoned readers")--as part of an online book club. During the NFL season he plans to have guest athletes hold down the fort with their suggestions while he plays until the Super Bowl has come and gone.

If you're wondering what the gimmick is, well, it seems to be a ploy to read. That's the gimmick. Otherwise, there isn't one. No cross-promotion, no alliance with BIG BOOKSTORE, no advertisements, nothing. If this book club became any more innocent there'd be a recommendation for the Poky Little Puppy. (Get on it, Luck.) He seemingly just wants people to read.

Listen, Andrew. Peyton Manning didn't build his brand on a silly thing like books. Those can be had free at a library! FREE! Manning built his brand on Papa John's, Mastercard, Buick, Gatorade, Reebok, Sprint, Nationwide, ESPN, DirectTV, and little Sally's lemonade stand down the street. At no point was there a free communal shoutout to some favorite John Grisham thriller.

Florida governor suggests Yale University should leave Connecticut for--yes--Florida.

Gov. Scott just daydreamed of Yale.

First:  It's Florida.

Second:  It's a politician.

Third:  It's Yale, so we shouldn't really care.

Florida governor--and all around good time to have a laugh at--Rick Scott decided to offer a press release in the wake of news that the state of Connecticut is debating whether to tax the profits on Yale's $26 billion endowment, which gained a $2.6 billion return last year.

Obviously, a 315-year old university long established in one spot in this country might pick up and move on a whim--so you have to strike while there's momentum, Rick Scott!

"With news that the Connecticut Legislature wants to unfairly tax one of the nation’s most renowned universities to deal with the state’s budget shortfall, it is clear that all businesses in Connecticut, including Yale, should look to move to Florida," said a press release from Scott's office.

Exactly. I mean, what's holding Oxford back while we're at it? England? Time to pick up and head to Florida, too. But as long as it's ALL Connecticut businesses the governor wants, so ESPN can lead the caravan out of Bristol and pick up Yale on the way down.

What else, Governor?

"We would welcome a world-renowned university like Yale to our state and I can commit that we will not raise taxes on their endowment. This would add yet another great university to our state," he continued.

Oh, you could nearly squeeze his cheeks, he's so adorable with his innocence! There's really only one university worth noting in Florida, that being the University of Miami, which is what Scott must be referencing. After that you're playing with alchemy if you venture to Florida State or the University of Florida, as there's more silver than gold there.

Case in point, as the New York Post notes, Florida State ranked number three on Playboy's best party schools.

It's exactly like Yale if Yale forgot the whole 'education' angle.

You say meh-meh, I say...err, meme.

Baseball announced its annual awards this week, and National League MVP Bryce Harper gave a slew of interviews.

During one interview he stumbled upon a question (in essence, "Want to be bald or never hit homeruns?"), and Harper answered the following (0:25 for the "meh-mehs"):

In trying to avoid becoming a meh-meh, with his flub Harper is probably well onto becoming a meh-meh.

The word that's tripping him up--and, admittedly, many people, let's face it--is "meme," pronounced "meem."

To Harper's defense, the word is barely older than he is, having been created in 1976 by evolutionary biologist and famed atheist Richard Dawkins in his book The Selfish Gene. There's an unspoken rule that academic papers or books of any heft require the creation of some phrase or word as the backbone of its argument--or academics turn their collective nose up. Dawkins created meme--from the ancient Greek word mimeme, which means an "imitated thing," to explain the evolutionary principle how culture transmits and evolves--a "self-replicating unit." Meme aligns itself with the similar gene, in both theory and pronouncement.

Nowadays, the word has been revitalized because of the internet. Internet memes occur everyday, replicating on levels Dawkins could never have imagined 39 years ago. And because Harper tried to avoid becoming an internet meh-meh, the internet memes have already begun:

Going back to the original question that caused this whole problem for Harper in the first place: He does have one hell of a head of hair.

Who would win the NCAA tournament based on graduation rates?

It's that time of year again when bookies and soccer moms once again acknowledge each others presence and start betting on the NCAA basketball tournament--a.k.a.: March Madness.

Tiny schools like Hampton or Lafayette stand little chance of winning it all, while powerhouses like Kentucky and Kansas mow them down.

But how different would things look if the tournament was based on graduation rates?

Every year, Education Week recreates the March Madness bracket doing just that, using various metrics regarding graduation rates and academic progress to gauge which school in the basketball tournament actually seems to care about...well...school. This year, they've done it again, and a little school comes out on top.

That's right--little known Belmont wins this year's bracket for being the school that actually cares about being a school.

In case you're wondering, Belmont has little-to-no chance of winning the actual basketball tournament. One website doesn't even offer odds for Belmont winning it all, but gives them 500/1 odds of winning their region.

Another site acknowledges Belmont exists and says they have 1000/1 odds of winning everything.

1000...to 1.

So they have a chance.



Bracket: Education Week

Super Bowl to take a one year hiatus using letters, does away with "L."

The Phoenicians called it lamedh. The Greeks call it lambda. The Latins--and the alphabet we use today--just call it L.

The National Football League? They're calling it quits, at least for one year when counting Super Bowls with Roman numerals (or, rather, letters), all because the Roman numeral for 50, when standing alone, doesn't look terribly appealing, so say the NFL's creative minds.

Jaime Weston, the NFL's vice president of brand and creative, told ESPN the thought process behind ditching the nearly half-century tradition of using letters. “When we developed the Super Bowl XL logo, that was the first time we looked at the letter L. Up until that point, we had only worked with X’s, V’s and I’s. And, at that moment, that’s when we started to wonder: What will happen when we get to 50?”

What will happen is a golden-hued numeric 50 that looks like it was stolen from the set of The Price Is Right.

"We think what we have makes a very powerful statement for the NFL brand," Weston told ESPN.

Powerfully generic and geriatric, yes.

President Obama released his NCAA college basketball picks, probably won't win $1 billion.

March Madness is upon us, which means 68 colleges and universities will vie for the national championship in basketball. Moreover, it's a time for gamblers and back alley bookies to make a buck off us regular jamokes on a selection grid.

Everyone gets involved, even Warren Buffet, who's aligned himself with Quicken Loans this year to award $1 billion (yes, billion) to anyone who correctly selects every winning team in the bracket. Odds of correctly accomplishing that feat? According to mathematicians, an easy 9.2 quintillion-to-1 (yes, quintillion), or 128 billion-to-1 if you know anything about college basketball.

Like the rest of us, President Obama knows who's going to win it all this year. His selection? Michigan State University--but take it with a grain of salt. In his years as president selecting a national college champion, Obama has only been correct once, in 2009 when he selected the University of North Carolina, yet also incorrectly guessed countless other matchups in his bracket. Last year, out of 8.15 million brackets submitted online to ESPN, President Obama finished in 2,080,996th place, or the 74.4th percentile.

That seemingly leaves the guessing to the rest of us. And who am I going to pick?

What? And give up my billion dollars?

ESPN asked college basketball coaches and players to draw their school mascots. Then it all went horribly, horribly wrong.

Leading up to a new season of college basketball, ESPN thought it would be cute to ask coaches and players to draw their school mascots on a whiteboard.

What it turned out to be was a Rorschach test examining the disturbing depths of every person's soul.

Some of the highlights:

1.) A mascot for McDonald's?

It's supposed to be a turtle for the University of Maryland Terrapins.

2.) A...foot upside down?

Apparently it's the Florida State University mascot, Cimarron--which is a horse.

3.) Notre Dame's Fighting Irish mascot, drawn with a scar on his cheek and a beer in hand?

4.) Another interpretation of the Notre Dame mascot, now a tiny flamenco dancer

5.) The Cavalier from the University of Virginia or Don Juan riding a camel backwards?

6.) Clemson University Tigers, now interpreted as an animal with gamma ray poisoning.

7.) This blind, faceless, oven-mitted creature is the Orange from Syracuse University.

8.) It might look like the emblem on Spiderman's chest, but it's supposed to be the University of North Carolina's Ramses the Ram.

There's also a discriminate, sweating little stick figure that looks traumatized standing beside it.

9.) That'd be the Virginia Tech University Hokie Bird, also known as Bill Maher.

10.) The Boston College Eagles channeling a Thanksgiving vibe.









All photos can be found on the ESPN Facebook page.

Pat Sajak and Vanna White hosted Wheel of Fortune sauced.

In a recent interview with ESPN2, Pat Sajak admits that he used to host Wheel of Fortune tanked.

According to the story, back in the 1980s there would be a couple hours of downtime between tapings of the show in order for the prizes to be rearranged. So, Pat and Vanna hoofed it over to a nearby Mexican restaurant and had a liquid lunch. "Two or three or six" margaritas each, according to Pat. After tying one on, Pat and Vanna would stagger back to the set and host another episode.

Forget Pat. I'm more amazed a Vanna hopped up on the hooch didn't crack an ankle in her stilettos changing letters around. Her liver must be lined with steel.

Admittedly, I can't spell Schenectady or Sheboygan without spellcheck

The White House has long been a boon for poor grammar and spelling. Dan Quayle couldn't spell "potato" without jazzing it up with an "e." And George W. Bush couldn't get through a few sentences without creating new forms of unrecognized speech patterns.

Now, Barack Obama just lost upstate New York in the next election by changing the spelling of its biggest city.

Deadspin.com caught a screen grab of Obama on ESPN filling out his March Madness basketball bracket, and damned if Syracuse didn't become "Sycasuse." Not to be outdone, the ESPN graphics guy flubbed right along, giving his own spin on the spelling. I believe "Syracsue" is how hit-and-run lawyers refer to the city.

Most troublesome of all is that Obama thinks Syracuse will make it to the Elite Eight.