Jim Rome still Burning, treatments fail

Seemingly lost in the annals of great television moments is the hilarious brush-up between a young Jim Rome and Jim Everett when Rome continually referred to Everett as "Chris."

Everett: "You probably won't say it again."
Rome: "I bet I do...Chris."
(Everett tackles Rome out of his chair)




He quickly found his way into the hearts of many sports fans after that. You have to admit that it's quite a nice little piece of media.

Shortly after that, though, a slight tingling sensation developed during urination. The tingling didn't stop him from getting his own five-day-a-week sports talk show on the heels of his Everett diss.

But soon the tingling turned to a full-on assault on his urethra. "It burns," he'd shout as his exit route turned beet red and chapped like the dirt floor of a desert canyon.

The feeling began to permeate his professional life. He went off on long tangents at the beginning of his show, exhibiting an intensely comical bias for Southern California sports and making fun of everyone who refused to come on his show.

He grew deliriously excited when someone agreed to do the show, prompting him to pop off with schmaltzy, hyper-poetic soliloquies that lasted as long as a full minute to promote the guest. He once went so far as to call then-Anaheim Angel David Eckstein "the greatest American since Lincoln."

Creams and shots and laser treatments did nothing to treat the burning and his anger towards the athletes that refused to appear. Tiger Woods refused to appear and shortly after Rome referred to him as a cold, robotic winning machine.

He even incorporated the now legendary penis problem into his act. To open he states: "But first, here's what I'm burning on..." He then ends the show with his "Final Burn."

Unfortunately for this joke of a man there has been no finality to the burning. Each day he grows more rank and despicable as he lauds Takashi Saito and slams those who rebuke him. Even now, as I write this, he mentioned Gilbert Arenas because he gave Rome a shout-out in his latest blog.

The days of glorious moments are gone, and all that is left is a sad little man with sand in his peter. They say at midnight, if you listen really hard, you can hear him trying to flick the last drop out of his dried-up, sandpaper pajama shark.