He very well could be, at least as far as Esquire magazine’s “Sexiest Woman Alive” tournament is concerned.

Heading into Esquire magazine’s so-called “Sexiest Woman Alive Madness” tournament as the Sports bracket’s Number 16 seed, USC head coach Lane Kiffin has shocked the world by making amazingly easy work of the Number 1 seed, Natalie Gulbis, in the first round. By defeating the gorgeous golfer by a whopping margin of 56% to 44%, Kiffin has advanced to the second round and will now face auto racing Danica Patrick in the Round of 32.

According to the mag, “both have broken barriers for women in sports, and Patrick is tough as they come. But the USC coach is just so… sweet.” (note: the “sweet” alluded to is in reference to this tweet by Kiffin, where he informed his Twitter followers that “Bon jovi was awesome last night!!” When aren’t they, Lane? When aren’t they?

Here is how Esquire sees the upcoming battle between Kiffin and Patrick:

LANE KIFFIN, 34
• Such a pretty girl. Sure raises a ruckus.

DANICA PATRICK, 28
• The prettiest thing in racing since Jeff Gordon.

It is sure to be a thrilling battle of epic proportions between the two lovely ladies – as thrilling as a flawed online vote can be where a person is theoretically allowed to vote multiple times, that is. With that said, be sure to vote here for Kiffin as many times as possible. Few things come to mind that would be more entertaining (in a nightmare fuel kind of way) than Kiffin somehow claiming the title as 2010′s Sexiest Woman Alive and the subsequent sultry photo shoot, a la 2009′s winner, Kate Beckinsale. Scary stuff.

Amid the fallout after the determination by Ocmulgee Circuit District Attorney Fred Bright that Ben Roethlisberger would not face criminal charges relating to his alleged hanky-panky in a Georgia nightclub earlier this year is the news that Fox NFL analyst/resident hick Terry Bradshaw ain’t none too fond of Big Ben and his highfalutin’ antics.

Speaking at a golf tournament Monday, the Chrome Dome Where No One’s Home had this to say about his fellow Steelers quarterbacking brethren and the kind of hijinks Roethlisberger frequently partakes in:

“I hardly ever went a club — ever — in 14 years in Pittsburgh. Count ‘em on one hand. I was petrified of the problems you can get into. And I almost got into — it’s there, believe me.

“There’s nothing greater if you’re single than to walk into a bar with beautiful women, and have them just fill your ego up. And you ask yourself, ‘Would they pay any attention to you if you weren’t, you know, who you are?’ Of course not. Because I’m not that attractive, and neither is Ben. So it’s nice that you can do that (Bradshaw flicks his arm, mimicking throwing a football).

“But he’s got to be careful. Stay out — I don’t want to give him any advice, because he’s not going to pay attention to me. [...] He’s got an image problem right now. Best thing to do is don’t ever put yourself in that position again. When you’re through playing football, do whatever you want to do, but right now, stay clean. Stay out of trouble. Stay out of bars. Keep yourself clean.”

“Our relationship is not any good. When I told him to park the motorcycle, he got pissed. Alright? Then he had the accident. And since then, there’s, you know … he doesn’t like me, and I’m learning not to like him. -Shutdown Corner.

Ohhhhh, snap! Hoo boy, Big Ben, you just got served up a countrified serving of Down Home Wisdom smothered in mighty tasty helpin’ of sausage gravy! Yes, indeed, good sir!

And if Roethlisberger thinks Bradshaw was being tough on him, that is going to be nothing compared to the wrath and fury “Der Kommissar” Roger Goodell will likely unleash upon him when they meet some time this week. Goodell doesn’t have much need for layering tasty condiments like sausage gravy to soften his anger, to put it mildly. Or something. Further, I’m pretty sure Goodell couldn’t care less that Big Ben apologized “for the disappointment and negative attention I brought to my family, my teammates, coaches, the Rooneys and the NFL.” Just a hunch.

Sure, when a mangy mutt gets loose on a minor league baseball field and poops, everybody thinks it’s hilarious, but when I do it, I spend the night in jail in a cell with no toilet paper. Hardly seems fair.

Be that as it may, the Northwest Arkansas Naturals, a member of the Texas League and the Double-A affiliate of the Kansas City Royals, have a promotion at Arvest Ballpark called “Iams Adoptable Pet of the Game,” when “a local dog from a shelter is featured for adoption.” During said promotion the other night, the spotlighted canine, obviously realizing this might be its one chance to escape, broke free from his handler and scampered around the field, much to the delight of the fans in attendance. Once the dog discovered a little free space in the outfield, seeing the buttload of wide open grass available, proceeded to unload the contents of its butt. Hey, when nature calls, what’s a dog supposed to do, right? Read the rest of this entry »

Allow me to present to you reason no. 1,943,531 why chicks shouldn’t participate in sports (insert joke from The Simpsons here). But if they are going to play basketball, at least stick with the uncoordinated waist-high dribbling, slo-mo bounce passes and layups, not an attempt to climb up the back of your teammate for a, um, even better layup?

And yes, I know that this video has been making its way around the ‘tubes this week, but I am also aware that the average With Leather reader is only let out of their enclosure to play on the internet for an hour a day, and there is a good chance you haven’t seen it. Believe me, I know how that goes. It has only been one short year since I broke my rusty cage….and ran. Crap, I’m still trying to clean up all the blood.

The video is truly remarkable. Who knows what these gals were trying to accomplish, but we should thank “Kelsey” and her accomplice for their nonathletic efforts. One thing could improve the video, though: some “Yakety Sax”. Add a little video editing – some comical speeding up, slowing down and playing the video in reverse and you got yourself a hit right there. To my credit, I did try to do this myself, but after researching how much work that would entail (downloading video editing software, music, etc.), I became lightheaded, passed out and smacked my forehead on my desk. When I came to, yep, you guessed it: more blood to clean up.

(Thanks, Uff, Burnsy)

Not that you weren’t already keenly aware of that fact.

While bringing some much-needed pinstriped style to NFL Network broadcasts, the former dual-threat is also introducing brand-spanking-new words to the lexicon. During a spirited panel discussion with Rich Eisen and Warren Sapp regarding Donovan McNabb’s trade to the Washington Redskins (video here), Deion, who undoubtedly questions the wisdom of the Eagles front office for trading McNabb to a team in its own division, could not think of an appropriate word to adequately describe his vexation with the move, so he made up one:

Shibacle.

“First of all, I gathered myself and sat down because I couldn’t believe that this was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life, except for that Herschel Walker ‘shibocle’ years ago. But you trade a guy in your own division that you got to see him twice, and you have [Kevin] Kolb, [LeSean] McCoy, [Jeremy] Maclin and DeSean Jackson – seven years amongst the complete trio of playmakers that you have for an 11-year guy that has taken you to five NFC championships and a Super Bowl. Man, are you kidding me?” -Moving the Chains.

Shibocle? I have to kindly disagree with the particular spelling chosen by the above writer – Pro Football Talk transcribes the term as “shibacle,” which I find to be much more accurate. With that in mind, it appears Deion’s contribution to the English language is some bizarre combination of the word “debacle” and something else. But what could it be? S**t? Shish, as in “I don’t mean to skewer the Philadelphia Eagles, but this trade was a shish kabob of a debacle,” which doesn’t make any more sense than shibacle, come to think of it. Jeez, all that work for nothing. How’s that for a travashamockery?

I think I know what’s going on here. Deion is obviously jealous of the attention former teammate Emmitt Smith garners for his unique grasp of the English language and felt now was the time to strike.

The Cessna airplane that was flying the friendly skies over Augusta National yesterday with clever messages directed at Tiger Woods trailing behind it will not be hovering over the course today as it has been grounded by the FAA for some “needed repairs.”

Kathleen Bergen, an FAA spokeswoman, said today that two FAA flight safety inspectors had met with the plane’s pilot and found all of the proper authorizations were in place but that the plane had some minor mechanical issues that required it to be repaired before it could fly banners again. Bergen said the pilot was given two options: to either have the plane repaired at its current location or have it flown back to its home base for the repairs – a practice known as ferrying.

“The pilot did get the necessary ferry permit,” Bergen said, adding that with such a permit “You can only fly from point A to point B for repairs” to include necessary fuel stops. -The Augusta Chronicle.

If you were to ask me (which no one ever does), this entire matter reeks of textbook cronyism. It would certainly come as no surprise to me if the sinister cabal who operates behind the scenes at Augusta National had contacts within the Federal Aviation Administration. To bolster my claim, TMZ reports that the much “needed repairs” were due to “a worn-out tag on the seat belts.” Need any further evidence? It’s how these things work, people. Don’t be so naïve.

Either way, it’s a crying shame. Who knows what kind of witticisms the person who hired Air America Aerial Ads out of Genoa, Ohio would have come up with next? My guess would have been “Tiger Woods, Can You Read This? If Not, Please Call 1-800-LensCrafters To Schedule An Appointment With One Of Our Experienced Optometrists. The Health Of Your Eyes Is No Laughing Matter. Seriously. Once Again, That Number Is 1-800-LensCrafters. Call Us.”

I don’t know. That’s probably a bit too long. And spendy.