Bill Mikesell of OregonLive.com is responsible for this insider look on what it takes to become a member of the Portland TrailBlazers dance team.  According to the judges, it's all about having dancers who "project their personality" and have good technique, consistency and energy.  One official notes that they're looking for "that stand-out girl," which is about as close as anyone comes to saying they're looking for fine-ass women who can dance real sexy-like.

And, as with any hard-hitting news report, it's spliced with long cuts of girls in spandex dancing real sexy-like.  I know it's still early in the year, but I smelllll Puliiiiiiiiitzerrrrrrrrrrr…

A quick round-up of MLB trade deadline action.

MANNY RAMIREZ TO THE DODGERS — L.A. and Boston each send two prospects to the Pirates, while the Red Sox get Jason Bay.  Bay is a minuscule downgrade at the plate, a remarkable improvement in the field, and his salary is less than one-third what Manny makes.  Minus the loss of the prospects, nice work by Theo Epstein.  He gets his choice of Boston skanks tonight. [Update: Written before I realized Sox were paying the remaining $7M for Manny. Still, if you're coming here for analysis, you're in the wrong place, my friend.]

KEN GRIFFEY JR TO THE WHITE SOX — News of the proposed trade broke this morning, but Junior approved the deal, so it's official.  Chicago, which has an outfield of Jermaine Dye/Nick Swisher/Carlos Quentin and a 1B/DH combo of Paul Konerko and Jim Thome, successfully filled a hole it didn't really have.

ARTHUR RHODES TO THE MARLINS –  So, okay: not nearly as big of a name as Manny or Griffey, but I felt like I really needed a third story to go with this.  Rhodes couldn't have been moved farther away from the Mariners, both geographically and — what with the Marlins not sucking — metaphorically.

There's a big hubbub-ado-kerfuffle in the blog world today, as Chicago sports reporter Mike Nadel's game report of last night's Cubs-Brewers tilt came with an extra helping of catty bitchiness towards ESPN's Erin Andrews.  Here's the meat of his displeasure with Miss Pageviews [paragraphs compressed]:

Moments later, the blonde reporter was chatting with Alfonso Soriano. At one point, she placed her hand suggestively on Soriano's left bicep. Was I reading too much into all this? I don't think so. I've been a paid observer for a long time … and I wasn't exactly the only one who noticed.

As two Cubs stood near their lockers, one asked the other: "Hot? Or just attractive? Does she do anything for you?"  The inquisitor then made eye contact with me as if saying — to use a term my uncle might have — "Hubba-hubba!"

This went on for at least an hour. Finally, Piniella emerged from his office, ready for his dugout media session. As he turned the corner, there was Andrews in all of her bare-legged, high-heeled, low-necklined glory [pictured, left]. "Hey, hey, hey! Look at this!" Piniella said, loudly and excitedly. "Are you doing a baseball game today or a modeling assignment?"

Fair question. I have seen Andrews at many events in recent years and this was the first time I had witnessed anything quite like this, which is why it seemed so bizarre. Did she really feel playing the sexpot was necessary to practice journalism?

NEWS FLASH: Room full of men notices attractive blonde woman dressed in summer clothes.  ROWR!  HISS!!!  Sounds to me like someboooooodyyyyyyyy's jealouuuuuuuuussss!   Hey Erin, stop taking all the attention away from the balding white men in the press, will ya?

Ben Rhodes and Steve Morrison will be sailing for England in the Olympics, but the IOC has nixed the name of their boat: "Jackie Big Tits," a reference to the song by the Kooks.  Rhodes and Morrison, who have a history of naming their boats after songs and musicians, handled the setback in stride.

[W]ith Olympic bigwigs sticking their oar in, Stevie and Ben have no choice but to give up their Big T**s. They will now compete under the banner Little Miss Pipedream, after THE WOMBATS’ track.

What a bunch of pussies, changing the name just so they can participate in the stupid Olympics.  I would've been all, "Sure, sure, we'll change it."  Then on race day, BAM!  Blowjob Betty.

[This Suit Is Not Black] 

Noted Washington Post writer and ESPN talking head Michael Wilbon has often voiced his distaste for bloggers, but looky looky here: no pants on the set of Pardon the Interruption.  You see, Mike, we're not so different, you and I.  Why, Mike Tunison and I often write the content of this website from the same location and bicker while not wearing pants — just like you and your cohort Tony Kornheiser!

Just not on TV.  That would be gay.

[Mr. Irrelevant] 

All you Internet viral video directors need to pay attention here.  Not only am I in the business of finding clips of people hurting their faces, I'm also a connoisseur.  I appreciate the art that goes into filming a dumbass failing at a stunt that he had no hope of performing successfully.  So when I say "more slo-mo" and less "victim not writhing in pain," I expect you people to listen and modify as necessary.  You think viewers want to see the rider sit up uninjured?  Hell no.  Edit that shit out.  Only keep the camera running if they're writhing in pain and/or bloody.