Original Sports Clichs interrupts its regularly scheduled smarminess to bring everyone out there an important public service announcement: This Sunday is Mother's Day.
That's right, the day after tomorrow. At this point, it's already too late to send a card or flowers, so I hope this isn't the first you people are hearing of this.
I can't believe that you wouldn't have seen any of the overly saccharine Kay Jewelers commercials that have saturated our TV airwaves recently. How could you forget that "Every kiss begins with Kay (assuming that America has suddenly switched to a phonetic alphabet)?" Or the commercials which feature people reading their old Mother's Day cards and don't seem to be selling anything?
What's up with that commercial, anyway? Who is paying for that? Insecure mothers of the world? What about the fact that MLB stars will be playing with pink bats on Sunday for Mother's Day? And not just Mike Piazza, lots of stars. You didn't hear about that? It was such a big deal, right?
Well, it seems as though I've wandered somewhat off point. Anyway, in honor of Mother's Day, I spent some time digging through dumpsters around the nation, looking for Mother's Day notes from some of your favorite athletes.
What did I find? Well, just a top secret copy of President Bush's travel plans for his goodwill trip to Florida. I turned those in to the White House because I'm an American patriot. Maybe you saw me on CNN. But no athlete letters. So I just made these up instead:
Dear Momma Cassell -- I know I say this every year, but thanks again for bequeathing me with your family's good looks. Hope you've been watching the NBA playoffs on satellite this year, Mom. I've led the Clippers -- the Clippers! -- to their first playoff series win since they were the Buffalo Braves.
One thing I don't understand: When I dance around after making a big shot, everyone always thinks that I'm imitating huge testicles. Don't they see that I'm showing them a key part of our culture, the Martian celebratory dance? Well, they are just Earthlings. When the season ends, I'll try to sneak out to my flying saucer and visit you at Olympus Mons -Xythlytx "Sam" Cassell
Dear Momma Leinart -- Happy Mother's Day, Mom. Your gift is in the mail. Anyway, I thought I would take this opportunity to introduce you to my new girlfriend. She's been great, we're having a lot of fun, and she's giving me great tips for keeping the weight off in the off-season. You might have seen her on TV a couple of times, like on the "Simple Life." Maybe you heard in "People" that we were "canoodling" in Vegas.
Really, Paris Hilton isn't that bad! I promise you, the sex tape will be very tasteful -- no night vision or anything. I mean, how else am I supposed to grab headlines? Even Nick Lachey won't come out to Tempe to hang out with me anymore. -Matt Leinart
Dear Momma Giambi -- Happy Mother's Day! Guess what? I've got great news: The family can come out of hiding. Turns out people don't hate me anymore. You might even be able to come to a Yankees game or two, if you sit in the upper deck.
I went on ESPN.com today. They had a poll asking who the most hated Yankee was, and I didn't even make the list! With Johnny Damon and A-Rod taking all the heat on the road and Randy Johnson pitching so poorly at home, everyone seems to have forgotten about the time when I apologized to all the fans without saying what I was apologizing for. Or the time when I reported for the first spring training under the new steroid policy 35 pounds lighter than I had been and said that I had cut the "cheeseburgers out of my diet." Oh, I didn't get you anything. But isn't this the greatest gift of all? -Jason Giambi
Dear Momma Bush -- Remember last year's Mother's Day present? The house in Spring Valley? Whoops, my bad! Well, this year I'll try something a little more conventional. How about a check? As the number one pick in the draft, I ought to have about a $50 million pay check...what? Oh. Well, did you see my Subway commercials? Those were cool, right? -Reggie Bush
