From the New York Post
Grapefruit heiress Julie Henderson has rebounded from Russell Simmons. After the hip-hop mogul dropped the 23-year-old swimsuit model in favor of 29-year-old model Noemie Lenoir, a spy tells Page Six that Henderson has been cozying up with Green Bay Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers. "They were having a romantic dinner at La Esquina on Wednesday," a spy tells us. "They looked cute."

















    CLICK HERE to Julie Henderson's SI Photo Shoot

Women’s tennis has become the topic of conversation; not because of an unbelievable serve and volley sequence at Wimbledon or because Serena Williams has donned a new outfit or because Maria Sharapova has posed for yet another magazine cover. It’s because of the guttural grunting, shrieking and generally annoying sounds emanating from these female participants.



The women’s game, in many aspects, is as good if not better than the competition on the men’s side but this “noise” has got to stop. As a casual tennis observer, I can’t stand it. Even in my fittest day, when I was benching over 300 pounds, I didn’t grunt like these women. It’s one thing if you’re locked up with an offensive or defensive lineman and a sound escapes from your body, that’s more of a dominance thing in my opinion but this screeching has crossed the line. Once in a while, when a rush of air escapes your body, you will make some type of noise but women, yelping with each and every swing of the racquet, give up the game if you can’t manage your cardio function any better than that.

Chris Evert, former women’s tennis great isn’t thrilled with the shrills either, "Grunting is one thing but the shrill sound that you hear with players nowadays, and especially they get louder when they hit a winner, that's the thing that I observe as a player.” Evert went on, “It is distracting when you are hearing this and I think the grunts are getting louder and more shrill now with the current players. The next time you watch say a Maria Sharapova -- the grunting is consistent but all of a sudden when she has a set up to hit a winner. I don't understand, they say you've got to blow air out when you hit the ball. Steffi Graf hit the ball a ton and she didn't grunt. There were a lot of players, hard-hitting players, and you never heard a peep out of them.”

Winner of 18 Grand Slams, Martina Navratilova, took the grunting a step further by calling it blatant cheating, “Roger Federer doesn't make a noise when he hits the ball - go and listen. The grunting has reached an unacceptable level. It is cheating, pure and simple. It is time for something to be done."

As someone who played tennis when they were merely a kid, I could never express the kind of advantage or disadvantage that these tennis greats are eluding to, I just know that the women’s game has become, to me a casual observer, a joke and I simply don’t watch it anymore. The only time I expect a woman to grunt is possibly an East German weightlifter with a 340 pound “clean and jerk” on the line, that’s it. If more people are like me, the ratings dip, the sponsorships go away and the money dwindles, I’d imagine the grunting, shrieking, yelling and, yes this is politically incorrect but it's the best description I could come up with, “small doglike” barking would suddenly seem not so necessary. Just a thought.

During the Greenhouse and Sports Central, Bill Michaels will be broadcasting LIVE from the Summerfest grounds.  You can find him in the 620 WTMJ / Chevrolet Road Show opposite the Harley Davidson Roadhouse Stage (Behind the Sentry Sport Zone along the lake front). 

Stop by and give The Big Unit a wave.  Who knows, you may end up on the Summerfest Webcam.

Since the Brewers 7 game win streak in mid May the home town team is just 12 and 18. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the Crew’s pitching has been just short of awful. With the starting rotation averaging just over 5 innings a start, we’ve talked about this time and again; the end result is an overworked bull pen and a staff that’s fatigued to the point that every outing, every inning, every pitch carries the utmost importance.

The fact that the Brewers are a game and a half behind the Cardinals is merely happenstance or good luck, take your pick, but it’s not because they’re forging a path of success right now.

Doug Melvin has to start wondering, at what point does he pick up the phone and start testing the preverbal trade waters. Penny, Peavy (even though he’s on the DL right now)  or someone else, they’re becoming a necessity with each passing day. I understand Melvin would like to get to the All Star break and see how his staff returns from a much needed rest but the way Milwaukee’s limping right now, the wait will depend on the foes of the Central Division’s performance.

If either St. Louis or Chicago gets hot and begins to separate themselves from the pack, the Brewers, namely Doug Melvin and Mark Attanasio, will have to determine if they’re buyers, and this season is another “post-season or bust” endeavor, or if they’re merely gaining another ring of “age” foreshadowing some tweaking next year. The two questions you ask yourself if you’re a GM is, “Are we one player away?” and “am I giving up too much for the chance at immediate success?” Melvin doesn’t have a lot of options out there; after all, CC’s not on the open market. In fact, the market isn’t loaded with quality talent that’s up for relocation. The one thing that’s keeping the trade market seemingly dry is the amount of teams that are still within a small win streak of the top spot in their division, much to the delight of the commish.

Last year was needed for this group of Brewers to taste the fandemonium nectar of October but this season might just be the year that is received as the bitter pill which enhances the craving for success from this young but maturing bunch. We the fans know and understand what sustained years of losing are like but this group, overall, has known winning and building on the successes of prior years, they haven’t really faced a regression such as the one they’re about to face if the pitching staff, namely the starting rotation, doesn’t return to the form of April thru mid-May.

Don’t be too disappointed if Melvin and Attanasio don’t pull the trigger on a deal that will allow you to sleep easy at night knowing that the Brewers now have the Central firmly in hand, they just aren’t out there. In all probability, with the slight tweaking of someone in the minors making his major league debut, what you see is what you get.

As I sit here and write this, it’s now 2:18 AM. The storms have subsided for the most part and I’m exhausted. For you see, I’ve spent my night as many of you probably have, fighting the power outage and, for the first time, water! 

Let me express by no means am I comparing myself to any real flooding victim but tonight I got a glimpse of what it’s like to fight for something so dear to you only to realize it’s a futile effort.

Many of you know that when I bought my new home a few years ago my dream was to have a sports bar within it. The ultimate man cave if you will. A Harley Davidson pool table, a professional foosball table, electronic Harley Dart Board, a thumpin’ sound system with a dance floor, lights, a bar wrapped in leather and diamond plate. Neon beer signs adorned the walls and the paint scheme of black, orange and white striped horizontally from floor to ceiling. Naturally a perfect television sat above the bar, a Harley fridge in the corner and yes….even a "dancers" pole on the dance floor. To watch a game, eat, drink, get away, the occassional party for friends…this was the ultimate. It had everything but a cash register.

It WAS the ultimate because, as I sit here drying off, the bar is is filling with water. At first it was a trickle and then a little more and a little more until there was so much I just couldn’t keep up. Being a competitive person, I firmly believed that I could bail as much as Mother Nature could throw at me. I’m not a quitter. I’m not someone who gives up without a fight. So I bailed gallon after gallon after gallon. I ran out in the storm and dug a trench away from my house through my new sod. I actually saved 2 frogs form perishing as they too couldn’t get out of the rushing current coming from my backyard, down the hill side and into my house. I believe in going until you have nothing left to give. That moment came about 20 minutes ago. With the power out and the sump pump nothing more than a paper weight (no, I’m one of he stupid people who didn’t buy a battery powered pump…not that it would have mattered that much in this instance) I watch the water pour in from my window wells, down the walls, listening to the water loudly stream behind the drywall, the sump pump crock flowing over it’s brim and the realization that "it’s over" hitting me.

The vision of the room was not drawn on paper or measured out in a design; it was crafted minute by minute from my head to my hands to reality. When I tried to explain to people what it was going to look like, they didn’t see anything more than an empty room. When the unveiling took place, no one could believe it. Everyone that entered raved and my chest grew 10 fold for I created a vision. It’s one of those accomplishments that, when you look back on it, you ask yourself, “How did I ever do it?” 

My laptop battery’s at half power now and the power’s still out, it has been for a little over 4 hours, so I guess I’ll post my night for you to read at your leisure.

Make no mistake about it, I’m upset with the loss of my room but I’m eerily calm. Not because I have insurance but because  99% of my cherished belongings are in tact and unharmed. Walls and 2x4's can be replaced, things that mean the most to you.....well, you get the drift.
This has certainly given me perspective though.  I can’t imagine going through an actual flood. To see people on their roofs waiting for help, to watch a river rise knowing your home depends on the skies drying up, to watch animals try to swim to safety only to become exhausted and perish, my God, just watching those in West Allis last night escape to the second floor of their homes in a moment's notice as the waters blew through sewers, rushed down gulleys, filled streets and yards all within a seeming lightning flash. For I’m very lucky….in the grand scheme of things, I’m very lucky. 

Good night.

June 18th, 2009 – 2:56 PM by Judd Zulgad from the Minneapolis Star Tribune

Defensive end Ray Edwards made it clear a few weeks back at a Vikings community event that despite all the speculation of Brett Favre coming to the team, he thought his good friend Tarvaris Jackson should be the Vikings’ starting quarterback in 2009.

Edwards, who isn’t afraid to speak his mind, hasn’t changed his tune today as he appears on ESPN’s many platforms during a visit to Bristol, Conn.

According to our friend Kevin Seifert over at ESPN.com, Edwards had some strong feelings about the fact Favre had his own area in which to dress while playing in Green Bay and with the Jets. “You’ve got to go to war with these guys,” Edwards said on “First Take” on ESPN2. “If you don’t want to share a locker room with [your teammates], that’s kind of b.s.”

Favre did have a locker assigned to him with the Packers and Jets but in both cases he used a separate area to dress. “I wouldn’t like it that much,” Edwards said. “Everybody else has got to share a locker room. What makes you so different?”

Edwards later taped an interview that has been airing on ESPN News throughout the afternoon. Here is the portion that involved questions about Favre.

If I've recevied this picture once, I've received it 200 times.  Enjoy!

         

The Brewers lose 2 out of the 3 to the White Sox, the Lakers win the NBA title, the Penguins take Lord Stanley’s cup, Mark Martin gets a Sprint Cup win, Shaq might go to the Cavs, it was an eventful weekend to say the very least. With all that went on, I’m not elaborating about any of that just yet (the Brewers I’ll get to later today or tomorrow), I’m going to venture away from the topic of sports and into the world of human nature and personal conduct. If you’ve checked out my Facebook page, you’ll know where I’m going with this already.

On Sunday, I woke up and made my usual trek towards the Wisconsin Athletic Club to get in a good cardio workout. It’s about 7:50 – 8 A.M. when I arrive. I love that time on a Sunday because there are very few people in the gym and I tend to have the place to myself. Yesterday, there were 3 people in the cardio fitness area.  I climbed up on my chosen elliptical machine and began my workout. There was a woman directly next to me, who I could see, was into her workout for about 15 minutes prior to my arrival. After about a minute or two into my ascent on the stair climber, I noticed a rather foul odor. The only thing that I can equate it to is rank morning breath doused in strong coffee with a touch of bad burrito. In circumstances like that the first thing you wonder, “Is it me”? I knew it wasn’t for I had brushed my teeth, rinsed with whitening mouthwash and was chewing a small piece of Dentyne Ice gum. I knew that I was in the clear. Since there was no one else near me but the woman next to me, it didn’t take an FBI undercover agent to figure out that she was the metaphoric chimney from which the foul odor spewed. I continued my workout but breathing off to my left side where the air seemed fresher. As I used my peripheral vision, I could see that as her workout intensified, her breathing became heavier and that meant that the odor became more prevalent. I couldn’t get the stank out of my head now. It was increasing to the point that I was now trying not to think about gagging or worse. Finally, I had to get down from my machine and walk 4 to 5 machines down and begin again a new workout. As I did this, the woman looked at me rather inquisitively.

I consider myself a nice guy, someone easy to get along with, someone who appreciates constructive criticism and someone who puts himself in others shoes. As I began to stride upward I was thinking to myself that I’ve been to black tie affairs and I’ve seen belching contests at motorcycle rides and tailgate parties so I’ve run the spectrum of  social graces or lack thereof. I decided that I was going to alert this woman, who may not truly know, that there’s an unpleasant odor emanating from her mouth that’s offensive to others. Afterall, if the shoe were on the other foot, I’d appreciate a “heads up” if I were offending. I would respect other’s rights to work out without up-chucking their Vitamin Water.

I stepped down and walked toward the woman choosing my words carefully and hoping that she’s as understanding a person as I am. I open with a greeting, “Hi there, my name’s Bill”. She takes off her head phones and says “hello” with a puzzled grin. “I think you noticed that I moved down a few machines”, I softly stated. “I want you to know that I’m the type of person who truly appreciates it when someone tells me that I’ve got something on my teeth rather than letting me walk around at a party like that.” I figure empathy, that’s the ticket. 

“God knows that I’ve been in enough goofy situations”, I said. “That’s why I felt compelled to stop back over. I’m in no way trying to embarrass you.” 

Now she’s looking mortified so I’m thinking, like a band-aid….rip it right off and get it over with.

“I was working out with you and, in case you were meeting someone for breakfast or heading out after your workout, wanted to let you know that I was getting faint whiffs of…” and I whisper….”bad breath.”

Before I could even get out of my mouth, “I apologize if I offended you”,  I muttered, “I ap…..” I got a rather loud, “You F$#%*ING D&*K” and she stormed off of her machine and headed straight to the front desk.

Shrugging my shoulders I figured, I tried. I bet when Albert Schweitzer told his first patient that he or she had the herpes, he got the same reaction.

My earphones went back into my ears and up went the music as I watched this woman, for what seemed an eternity, point me out to the front desk person and rant, with her finger wagging like she was Zoro. She snapped around and walked out of the front door. 

I waited. No one, no one came to talk to me…nothing. 

I finished my workout 45 minutes later. I wiped down my machine (something little miss boiler breath forgot to do..but I won’t bring that up) and strolled towards the front door. I stopped for a moment to speak with the poor front desk person who had to endure the woman’s fury. I told her what had happened and as I arrived at the part in the explanation regarding the woman’s breath, the girl behind the front desk butted in and exclaimed, “Oh my God I knooooowwwwww”. Immediately, I felt vindicated.

Here’s a tip from yer Uncle Bill, if you’re gonna walk around with farm animal like breath, pass gas like black exhaust spewing from an aging semi, allow yourself or your area to get out of hand unkempt, I just might alert you to the fact. Isn’t honesty supposed to be the best policy? Well, it is now!!

ESPN reports today;

The Minnesota Vikings have at least temporarily suspended their pursuit of Brett Favre after the retired quarterback failed to report to organized team activities that began Tuesday as head coach Brad Childress had mandated, according to team and league sources.
The Vikings conveyed their decision in a phone call from vice president of football operations Rob Brzezinski to Bus Cook, the agent who represents Favre.

Of course the Vikings slowed their pursuit of Favre, he just had surgery and can’t throw yet. Speaking with Judd Zulgad, of the Minneapolis Star Tribune, last night on Sports Central he reiterated that “Favre didn’t have that tendon surgery to remain retired”, and I agree. 

CLICK HERE to listen to the interview

Favre is going to take his time and allow this tornadic media activity to continue. In the next few weeks we’ll hear one of two storylines;
“Brett Favre, feeling that his surgically repaired arm is healthy and ready to go, has signed with the Minnesota Vikings” OR “Brett Favre, feeling that his surgically repaired arm just isn’t strong enough to withstand an entire NFL season has decided to remain retired”. Either way, the Minnesota Vikings are listening with open ears and open minds.

To say that they’ve “suspended their pursuit of Favre” eases the distractions around their current quarterbacks and takes some of the pressure off the rest of the team. In a recent interview with a Minnesota television station, Vikings guard Steve Hutchinson tried to remain unbiased regarding the Favre rumors, “We’re pretty wrapped up in the OTA’s right now”, but he clearly sounded flustered by the constant questions regarding Favre, “I’m just trying to concentrate on the task at hand and the guys here. I don’t know, I don’t know what to tell you. You know as much as we do. It’s kind of frustrating.”

For a guy that’s not even in their lockerroom yet, the Favre chatter has certainly stolen the spotlight of what was supposed to be a possible Super Bowl contender preparing for the season. Make no mistake about it though, whether he does or he doesn’t come back, Favre holds all the cards and the Vikings are still wagging their tails, like hopeful puppies in a storefront window, in the hopes of getting the sure first ballot hall of famer in their purple jersey.