This is beach legend Kent Steffes before some genius came up with the idea to number the player one or two. How they were able to tell them apart, I have no clue. And a maggie rocks. Shaka brah. 

Donald Trump continues to insist President Obama founded ISIS. Of course Trump thinks ISIS stands for Immigrants Sneaking Into States. 

After a lot of publicity, neither Snoop Dogg nor Puff Daddy’s sons, Cordell Broadus and Justin Combs,  made the UCLA football team. When it came to playing football, they put the rap in crap.

A man was arrested for climbing Trump Tower with suction cups. He got the idea from seeing how much Trump’s campaign sucks.

At the Rio Olympics, the athletes have been dolled out five condoms a day. And already the sprinters and beach volleyball players are borrowing from the badminton and ping pong teams. 

Two Wisconsin canoers found a man’s prosthetic leg in a beaver dam. When the man missing the leg found out the beavers had stolen it, he was hopping mad. 

He was glad to get the leg back, he had named it and everything: Eileen. 

When asked why beavers would take his leg, the man was stumped.

When the man’s leg went missing he knew there was trouble afoot. 

"The New York Post" headline screamed: "Sham Gam In a Dam." 

Just because the man had one leg did not mean he was pegged as a pirate. Mooooooooooon riverrrrrrrrrrrrr, wider than a miiiiiiile.

Since you asked:

Cannot get enough of beach volleyball. 

Unlike other sports, I can watch even without a US team playing. And way not? It is so pure. A ball, two great athletes a side, a net and boundaries. Add rock, dancers, booze. What is not to like? 

And they even wear numbers. One and two.  (Get a program, you can't tell the players without one) 

Got a glimpse inside the world of pro beach volleyball in the naissance in the ’80's from my friends from UCSB who are from Newport Beach, Irvine and Laguna. It is an insanely tasty, intoxicating, sexy and cozy world. These players are mostly from wealthy families, they are handsome dudes, great athletes and they live in a luxury beach cocoon where their egos are allowed to grow virtually unchecked. And they do.

Throw in shots of  tequila and a lot of ’80’s blow and pre-AIDS bar bathroom sex with gorgeous female fans and these guys were the beach town equivalent of rock stars. Really vapid rock stars. 

To say it is not a haven of deep thinkers is an understatement. But it is fun. 

They made decent cash, they drove a nice car, lived in a nice apartment in Manhattan beach and never had to pay for meals or beers at the vast local bar scene. Little beach bunny groupies were a real thing. 

Names like Sinjin Smith and Randy Stoklos, Kent Steffes and world-class dick, Tim Hovland are the beach volleyball Mount Rushmore in Manhattan Beach. From Santa Barbara to La Jolla for that matter. They took the sport from a means to chase bikini babes and drink free beer into legitimate professionalism. 

Picture a tan, muscular broheim dude with a 'tude, cocky beyond belief, getting “stoked” and scarfing some killer gauc and chips with some frosty brewskis and maggies rocks, driving beemers and their life is good, brah. Geevum.   

They are number one. Or number two.