On October 25, the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Portfolio: “Fantasy Islands” will be released in hardcover format for those of us who did not find this year’s swimsuit issue to be plentiful enough. The book is a collection of behind-the-scenes pictures and stories from this year’s shoot, or, if you’re more blunt like me, it’s another reason to publish a ton of photos of Brooklyn Decker, Chrissy Teigen, and Hillary Rhoda, among others.

And I have absolutely no problem with that at all.

It’s the ultimate supermodel yearbook. Join the four photographers whose work was featured in the 2011 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue on a behind-the-scenes account of their travels, revisiting their experiences through never-before-seen images and exclusive commentary.

In all honesty, I don’t care about what the four photographers have to say. No disrespect to them, but the only way I would read it would be if it looked like this:

“DUDE! DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE! I SAW BROOKYLN DECKERS BOMBS TODAY! KAPOW!”

Seriously, that on every page and I might read the content. Otherwise, just give me the pictures and let me drift away to a land in which I, too, can be a mediocre professional tennis player.

Speaking of pictures, the great minds at Dickism went ahead and dug up some of the new Brooklyn Decker images and they’re pretty much everything my tired eyes could have ever hoped for. Enjoy some Decker for yourselves and have a great weekend.

[header photo by way of Amanda Rykoff]

Links

A Short Time Ago In A Stadium Not Far Far Away - The only thing Jason Fry of Faith and Fear In Flushing knows more about than the New York Mets is Star Wars, so it is super awesome that he got to be a Stormtrooper for the Mets. Read about his story (he’s the one in the picture). [Faith and Fear]

Twitter Reacts To The News That Basketball Star Glen Rice Allegedly Banged Sarah Palin In 1987 - This is a great follow-up to yesterday’s article on With Leather for two reasons — one, it’s funny, and two, it gets the Tea Party yahoos googling “Sarah Palin Glen Rice” shuffled off to a different section of UPROXX. [UPROXX]

Six TV-Inspired Video Games That Were Nothing Like The Shows That Inspired Them - I remember playing that Home Improvement game and thinking it was one of the dumbest things ever. Somebody should make a King of Queens game where you have to drive post-apocalyptic battle cars. [Warming Glow]

The 15 Best Singing Performances In Non-Musical Films - Do the Country Bears count? What about “Don Henley as a Country Bear”? Because that was pretty amazing. [UPROXX]

Christina Hendricks Would Still Like To Be Wonder Woman - I would like for Christina Hendricks to stop smoking, get a part of her body other than the boobs in shape and display some sort of athleticism anywhere ever before getting to be Wonder Woman. [Gamma Squad]

AKNITomy: Amazing Knitted Dissected Animals - This is cute, and is the only way dissection should be done. The only thing I ever dissected was owl poop, and I didn’t get much farther than OH GOD THAT IS BONES. [Gamma Squad]

Awesome Mash-Up Alert: Twilight Plus Slapshot - Awesome mash-up idea alert: Slapshot plus anything. [Film Drunk]

Tyler Perry Tops Forbes’ List, Proves There Is No God - Mr. Brown is pretty funny, but no, not “millions and millions of dollars” funny. [Smoking Section]

Behold, the Greatest Book of All Time - This is number two all time, right behind The Bluest Eye. I’m gonna guess they have similar plots. [Buzzfeed]

Amanda Seyfried: ‘I can’t believe nobody wanted to see Megan Fox and me hitting it’ - I did, I totally did, I just didn’t want to sit through 45 minutes of Diablo Cody dialogue to get there. I checked out somewhere after “honest to blog”. [FARK]

20 Other Anticlimactic ‘Star Trek 2′ Confirmations - “Deep Space Nine will not appear, and we will continue pretending it didn’t exist, except in video packages about how we’re ahead of our time when it comes to gender and race relations.” [Moviefone]

Internet Browsers as Pretty Ladies - what [Unreality]

I have a lot of respect for Buzz Bissinger. The guy wrote Friday Night Lights and, despite his inflammatory remarks toward Will Leitch in 2008, I applaud the guy for at least making the effort to speak his mind. That same style of eloquence was on display yet again in Twitterland, where he responded to Bret LaGree, who trolls around as “@Hoopinion,” regarding a comment made about Buzz’s latest book involving LeBron James.

I enjoy Buzz telling anyone to go F himself almost as much as the fact that he seems to have time to tell anyone to do so. When I think of Bissinger’s day, I just see an angry man pacing the streets, staring at his iPhone while swearing under his breath like Chris Farley’s character in Billy Madison. Yeah, that’s not much of a pull out of the noggin. I blame the syphilis.

Sandra Bullock is so thoroughly unspectacular that you couldn’t possibly have an opinion about this. Remember that South Park episode where the boys get diagnosed with ADHD and put on Ritalin, and the next thing you know they’re at a Phil Collins concert? Sandra Bullock’s movies are like that. –FilmDrunk.

So it’s not a consensus. If anyone has seen it, drop us a comment about it. If you haven’t, then tell us how terrible it is, anyway. If Sandra Bullock really wants that 90 minutes of my life, she can pry them out of my cold, dead hands. Uh, so to speak.

Golenbeck’s well-researched book chronicles Steinbrenner’s days as a spoiled little ass growing up in Cleveland, his antics in the Air Force and as an assistant football coach, and ultimately his forays into sports ownership. Steinbrenner’s dickish ways were first on display as owner of the Cleveland Pipers of the old ABL, but would assume a more prominent stage in 1973, when he would lead a group of investors to buy the New York Yankees from CBS for $10 million, a paltry sum when one considers what the landmark franchise is worth today.

The meat of the book begins here, as Golenbeck chronicles Steinbrenner’s relentless tormenting of players, managers, and front office staff alike. The Billy Martin saga, The Dave Winfield contract, and his two suspensions from Major League Baseball are laid out–by the people that were there–in a way that may shatter your image of the guy that was so lovably parodied on “Seinfeld.” Golenbeck’s subject is nowhere near lovable, and the evidence might blow your mind.

But then Golenbeck blows it at the end with a sort of “kiss and make up” chapter, listing all of the nicer things and charitable efforts that Steinbrenner had engineered over the course of his life. After exposing the man for the big ball of evil that he is, this epilogue seems to ring hollow. Perhaps that’s by design.

Regardless, George is a great read for anyone with interest in the inner politics of one of the most famous team’s on sport. Its terrific chronology and impressive research make for a rewarding read.

During one particular summer game, Duke Callahan, Mark Wunderlich, and I made it to the three-minute mark in the first quarter without calling a foul. We were running up and down the court, laughing our asses off as the players got hammered with no whistles. The players were exhausted from the nonstop running when Callahan finally called the first foul because Mikki Moore of the New Jersey Nets literally tackled an opposing player right in front of him. Too bad for Callahan-he lost the bet.

I became so good at this game that if an obvious foul was committed right in front of me, I would call a travel or a three-second violation instead. Those violations are not personal fouls, so I was still in the running to win the bet. The players would look at me with disbelief on their faces as if to say, “What the hell was that?”

Seriously, read the whole thing at Deadspin, and here’s hoping that the book actually sees the light of day. I mean, everyone knows that outcomes are fixed in the WWE and they seem to be doing pretty well. Besides, I’m pining for the day that Kevin Garnett finally smacks Bruce Bowen in the head with a steel chair.

The book, out Tuesday from Vanguard Press, tells how Williams’ corpse became “Alcorian A-1949″ at the facility, where bodies are kept suspended in liquid nitrogen in case future generations learn how to revive them.

Johnson writes that in July 2002, shortly after the Red Sox slugger died at age 83, technicians with no medical certification gleefully photographed and used crude equipment to decapitate the majors’ last .400 hitter.

Williams’ severed head was then frozen, and even used for batting practice by a technician trying to dislodge it from a tuna fish can.

More nightmare fuel after the jump.

Johnson writes that holes were drilled in Williams’ severed head for the insertion of microphones, then frozen in liquid nitrogen while Alcor employees recorded the sounds of Williams’ brain cracking 16 times as temperatures dropped to -321 degrees Fahrenheit.

Johnson writes that the head was balanced on an empty can of Bumble Bee tuna to keep it from sticking to the bottom of its case.

Johnson describes watching as another Alcor employee removed Williams’ head from the freezer with a stick, and tried to dislodge the tuna can by swinging at it with a monkey wrench.

The technician, no .406 hitter like the baseball legend, missed the can with several swings of the wrench and smacked Williams’ head directly, spraying “tiny pieces of frozen head” around the room.via

That’s inhumane and disturbing stuff. And probably touches on a lot of people’s fears about how one’s body is handled after death. The Williams estate paid $120,000 for Ted’s body to be “suspended.” Johnson is scheduled to appear on ABC’s “Nightline” this Tuesday. also.

UPDATE: Another country heard from, via the comments [sic'd]:

I am one of the Alcor Foundation clients. Trust me when I tell you, this guy is just looking to make money creating a funny controversy. The people that work at the facility are extremely dedicated and professional. If this guy had any real proof he could have attracted a real news crew investigation. Wait, I guest not…NO MONEY to make. If remember correctly Ted Williams family was against the whole cryonics thing. They even went to court to try to violate his wishes. That’s right, Ted Williams himself gave specific instructions.

Believe me when I tell you. this people didn’t steal his head to do creepy experiments or to play games with it.

If you believe this guy’s allegations you are simply a moron. Why? Well, Do you know anything about cryopreservation (besides what you have seen on Sci/fi movies)? I can bet the answer is NO. Admit it, you know nothing about it. You know nothing about the Alcor Foundation either.

You see this is what’s wrong with this country these days. People just want to create controversy all the time. Even where there is none. Hey don’t let the facts get on the way of a good lynching. How easy it is to stir you ignorant people into a mob mentality and make you march down the street with pick forks and torches to burn whoever they are telling you to burn in a bonfire. You don’t know why you are doing it but just like a good lemming you will keep marching up the mountain and will jump down the biggest cliff.

Hey, you fools. Before I decided to become a client I check the foundation extensively. These people don’t play around. These people are professionals at what they do. Oh, and don’t tell me the guy has tapes. Pleeeeeese. audio tapes can be fake and manipulated so easily. These days anybody can photoshop themselves into any picture, movie, etc…

Why don’t you guys look into this guy’s background a little. Do some digging before you guys start posting comments like “Sick Fucks” etc…

So take that you fools!

Those of you looking for another great football read or just walking around with twenty bucks to blow owe it to yourselves to check out The Football Fan’s Manifesto, the dickslappingest book ever written that doesn’t involve Jesus, zombies, or the American Revolution. Yeah, even better than that one guy’s book. Tell us about the book, Michael Tunison:

I finished editing this thing months ago and have had to spend the meantime sitting around praying specific jokes and references would hold up long enough not to be outdated by the time the book even hit stores. For example, there’s one part where I mock Cleveland for its 45-year title drought. Only so the Cavs could made me sweat it out for three whole rounds of the playoffs before failing miserably! Tension, I tells ya. via.

I haven’t finished the book yet, but the paperback cover feels fantasic against my baby soft skin. No, it’s a funny book from a funny guy, whose work you can still find on this site. And on Kissing Suzy Kolber. And on The Sporting Blog starting next week. But the book is better, and therefore, worth spending money on. Unlike your tramp girlfriend, who’s a tramp. Huh, that’s somewhat redundant, isn’t it?

God’s Quarterback (sorry, Kitna) just co-wrote a new book with his wife called First Things First: The Rules of Being a Warner, and it sounds like Rule No. 1 is the same as it is in every family: Father Gets Hosed. From NBC New York (via Tunison):

As the book unfolds, it becomes clear the the QB struggles at home: Warner had to offer one of his sons a quarter for every completed pass so that he’d agree to a game of catch in the backyard. He can’t even get them to agree to come to watch him play in the Super Bowl. Two skipped the game in February, and there was a good bit of tooth pulling involved to get the other five to show up for the game. What’s watching your dad play in a Super Bowl next to a Nintendo DS?

What a great family.

“Hey Dad, how was work?”
“We won the Super Bowl on a last-second play against Tennessee! It’s the greatest day I ever could have hoped for!”
“That’s nice. Can I have the car this weekend?”

Kids these days.

What follows is somewhere between a literary review and a book discussion.  Sorry about the headline being a complete lie.  But let’s be realistic: people aren’t going to click a headline with the word “book” in it.

It was almost two years ago that the collection of basketball philosophers at FreeDarko introduced the Competitive Style Guide, a series of sketches on graph paper that illustrated perfectly what the website’s authors had been trying to communicate for years with thousands of slippery words.

Two NBA seasons later, Bloomsbury USA is publishing FreeDarko’s The Macrophenomenal Pro Basketball Almanac, a field guide to the lens of style through which FreeDarko views the NBA.  And while the en vogue book in the blog world right now is Drew Magary’s excellent and hilarious Men With Balls [Ed. Note: Drew will handle posting duties on With Leather tomorrow to promote the book], I found FreeDarko’s move from blog to book the more rewarding of the two.

This is not to say that The Macrophenomenal Pro Basketball Almanac (henceforth MPBA) is a superior book to Men With Balls, for the two have little in common save enjoyment for the reader.  But the process of making a book is more suited to the eggheads of FreeDarko than it is to Magary’s expert self-deprecation and sharp satire.  To elaborate, the team of lawyers and editors working on Men With Balls (necessarily) reign in much of Magary’s madness, trimming four-letter words here and there while eliminating delightful accusations of homosexuality.  While casual book-buyers may find Magary’s book edgy and profane, die-hard fans may detect a duller edge on Drew’s chainsaw of swear words.

Conversely, individual FreeDarko posts — coming on the heels of NBA games I usually don’t see, and commented on by readers with a zeal for stretching metaphors — often feel like a Philosophy 301 discussion section in which I haven’t done the reading.  The MPBA, a hardcover devoid of dustcover and filled with colorful graphs and charts, is an accessible textbook for NBA Philosophy 101.

The MPBA succeeds at every level: its essays on the league’s most stylistically interesting (and confounding) stars paints the players as the complex, often tragic characters they are, illuminating them in ways that no mainstream columnist can; the imaginative illustrations capture the spirit of the players, and an impressive amalgam of stats are interpreted in a way (Tim Duncan’s numbers as the Fibonacci sequence? You better believe it) that could only be described by the site’s titular adjective “FreeDarko.”

I may not be much of a basketball fan, but The Macrophenomenal Pro Basketball Almanac at least has me excited for the start of the season.

[Buy the FreeDarko book here; buy Men WIth Balls here]