N.E.R.D

The always on-target lads at Fire Joe Morgan have noted with particular interest the escalation of the ongoing feud between Curt Schilling and Dan Shaughnessy (read No. 38's take here). I'm interested, too, if only because it's unique to see an athlete fight back effectively in this usually one-sided battle. The disintermediating power of the internet must be terrifying to Shaughnessy and his ilk, as his cowardly (and poorly aimed) column illustrates in stark relief.

But I come here not to bury the CHB, but to gawk incredulously at the following commentary from Schilling, also unearthed by the FJM team. Here's Schilling discussing what appears to be a particularly gnarly episode from Everquest, an online roleplaying game:

Q: Tell us some of the most interesting adventures you have had while playing Everquest? Did you ever do something really stupid? Something that you are really proud of?

A: My first foray into Lower Guk was a lot of fun. My favorite memories are pretty basic. Completing the Robe of the Lost Circle quest was a blast. Camping Raster was a nightmare, but I got stupidly lucky. I had pretty much resigned myself to camping Scythehands in the Mino room, logging in, seeing another monk already there camping, and waiting. One night I log in, and there's a 55 level monk there. Great guy. He's been there for like 12 hours. No Raster -- pop, despawn, pop, despawn -- still no Raster. Now I'm in about my 3rd day there -- total time camping him maybe 5-10 hours tops -- but getting some good groups when I did have the camp (lotsa guild mates showed up and we pulled and got great exp). Anyway, this guy says ok, one more spawn and it's yours. So I wait and this guy says 'screw it' and leaves. I get a full group and we get the camp. We are there for about 2 minutes when we are in a major, major brawl and we barely survive. I'm laying there, feign death style, and no one in the group is hurt but me. I have no mend and about a bub of health. My group runs some frogloks down the hall to finish them off and POP! RASTER! If there was a way to scream louder than caps in EQ I was doing it. Man I am straight panicking because I know I have NO CHANCE soloing and the party has run off. I'm in my hotel room; it's like 5am, and I am straight hollering, in EQ and in real life. Bottom line is the group comes back, heals me, and kills Raster! WOOT!

I mean, wow. That's really...something. If we could get more professional athletes involved in the world of multiplayer gaming, Roger Goodell could certainly sleep more easily, among other things. Pacman Jones would be making it rain in Lower Guk instead of Las Vegas, and Joey Porter would be using feign death style instead of uppercut/roundhouse against Levi Jones. The world would be a much safer, if far, far geeblier place.

WOOT!, indeed.