Here's The Pitch

I come for the one liners and stay for the songs at the end. Keep them coming!

Great to start your day with.

Really enjoyed listening to football news coverage with a funny down to earth spin. Highly recommend

I don't know about you, but I am SICK AND TIRED of today's sports media franchises, who have been way too comfortable with their stranglehold on all things sports. I am tired of the puffed up, politically correct show-hounds at ESPN, who can't seem to realize that the ratio of game analysis to John Buccigross jokes should never even be close to 1:1. I don't want to be subjected any longer to the slobbering, chauvinist, no god-having, anti-Jason Peters spewing, Geno's-eating radio jerkies who year after year find themselves in back in their seats making fun of cheerleaders and Cowboys fans. In the post-modern world of unbridled Bacchanalia, I see my fair share of smut just by walking outside of my sister's elementary school in the Philadelphia suburbs, and I don't need my life energy of sports to be anymore contaminated. And if you're shopping around the mainstream podcasts and Youtube channels, be prepared to sell your soul for a half-decent analysis/commentary duo with any sort of personality. Luckily, humanity is about to be saved. Here's The Pitch brings it to you on a hot plate with extra mustard, and then dumps the whole thing down your pants. There hasn't been a more diabolical combination of minds anywhere in town since the Bush Administration, and these guys won't hesitate to declare war if there is even a whiff of PED's in your gym bag. Straight man Simon is the facts man, the dutiful watchdog, the interview extraordinaire, our angel of purity in a whirling cloud of back-stabbing owners and pornographic soccer stars, and he's not afraid to call you out if you put it on the floor after picking up your dribble. His specialties include supplying a steady dosage of real facts, moonlighting as Kenjon Barner's interior decorator, and wrangling down the Duck every full moon. This hear is where you truly live Ducky, this heart! Duck's mother was a boxer and his father was the image of Chuck Bednarik standing over Frank Gifford, and he was born on cold night where the wind howled and Mickey Morandini turned the first unassisted triple play ever recorded at Veterans Stadium. Some say that Duck once knew long ago how to control his aboriginal power of sports commentary, but such knowledge has been lost in the sand of time. In fact, some scientists have postulated that Duck was born without the section of the brain responsible for filtering thought before communication, for which we can thank the man upstairs (right after we're done thanking Matt Stairs). Duck is the Yin to Simon's Yang, the straight-talker, the creak in the night; he tells it like it is whether he's talking to Donald Sterling or Brady's ball boy; he'd call out Jeremy Lin's mother if she warranted one, with not a single punch pulled. Together these two are the future of sports, a heavy burden for a pair of mainline-looking frat boys just breaking into the world of media. But a burden worth the weight. For we deserve them, and we need them. - Paul Cotler