IVY ROUNDUP: Maloderous Russians storm Palestra; Big Red Find gorge

Well since most avid readers are probably already piss-drunk at home in their pre-Turkey Day bashes, we humbly present the Who-Cares-Because-No-One-Is-Reading-This-Anyway Edition of Ivy Roundup. So, while they're sitting in Long Island driving their BMWs to the Hamptons, we'll simply do our weekly tour around the League, just to provide our faithful readers the inherent knowledge in this fine feature. Before we immerse ourselves in the world of Roundup, we'd like to provide a public service announcement to all of the people staying at Penn this weekend: GO HOME YOU DORKS. GET A LIFE. Okay, sorry. Let's continue. The Siberian Impostas of the Week Some people say the quality of life in post-Communist Russia has deteriorated tremendously. We at Roundup say, we don't care. In true Cold War form, however, SMAT -- the Siberian Middle Aged Team (otherwise known as Russian Select) -- decided to send a couple of players who made mockeries of truly great American heroes. One SMAT player, Roman Ovtchinnq?(oh forget it, you couldn't pronounce it even if we could spell it), looked like a John Larroquette after too many donuts. Or, for those looking for more Russian ranks, like John Laroquette after visiting Chernoble. It was the other SMAT imposta that really offended us. Number nine, Mr. Ochtchchtchtchtch? (whatever) decided to wear his Fran Dunphy look-alike costume. Overweight, mustached, balding, and sweaty, this moron decided to try to show Timmy Krug a thing or two. Frankly, we at Roundup don't care whether you're Russian or Dunphy, but no one shows Krug anything -- he's just too good. At least that's what he thinks. As for the rest of those ex-Communists, the only other thing they tried to impersonate was a quality basketball team. And they sucked at that. The Good Refs Watch of the Week As the trio of the NBA replacements' replacements' replacement refs stepped into the Palestra, they decided to joke along with us Roundup folks sitting at courtside. As we were kidding about the overweight John Larroquette look-alike, Good Ref #1 came up to us to offer his two cents. Obviously an avid Night Court fan, the ref quickly chided the great imposter at work. "That is John Larroquette -- isn't it?" the ref asked. Yup, Mr. Good Ref #1, it is. And, in Dan Fielding fashion, the impersonator fouled out in the first half. Our Good Ref watch didn't stop there, however. The refs seemed to be tired of calling the Russian Community Center's 30+ League team versus the Quakers. Disappointed with the lack of athleticism, and the overabundance of Eurasian sweat, the Good Ref #1 continued to get on the Ruskis' case. "Did you get a whiff of these guys?" he asked. Since we forgot our gas masks, we were glad we didn't. Unfortunately for the Commies, the hits just kept on coming. Another Good Ref (#2) needed to blurt out his feeling, which must be a lot easier when the team you're making fun of can't understand a word you're saying. "When they were exchanging gifts, someone should've given them a bar of Irish Spring," exclaimed Good Ref #2. Us being hardly able to stay in our seats (we wouldn't wanna piss the alumni off, after all) Good Ref #2 kept on going. This time, however, the high school ref showed off his Ivy League knowledge. "I knew we were in trouble as soon as I saw them wearing orange and black." Exactly. Unfortunately, we at Roundup need your help. We were unable to track down these refs, or even get their names. If you are a Good Ref, or have seen one around your house, please call the Roundup hotline at 1-800-ROUNDUP. The Daily Ithaca Sunset of the Week Think back. It was the Thursday before the Cornell-Penn football game. We at Roundup were outlining just what to round up. Suddenly, the phone rang. "Roundup." "Hi, this is the Cornell Daily Sun. Can you give us directions to the Schuylkill River?" (Dorks still on campus, read: we're gonna throw your goal posts into the river.) Click. Hello, straight from the depths of Suicide Gorge, the Daily Schmucks decided that a last-ditch effort to save their pride they would try to trash the Quakers. Well, needless to say, after an embarrassing and devastating loss at our hands, Roundup afficionados needed to pay the Daily Sun a little visit (via phone, of course). After getting in touch with the (soon-to-be-intramural) sports department, it sounded to us like a new staff was in its place. We at Roundup speculate that the Cornell Scraping Club is busy scraping the remains of the past sports staff off the now-bloody rocks below. The Corky of the Week As we watched with great anticipation as our football squad was trouncing the Big "chew 'em up and spit 'em out" Red, we were paid a visit by a young pseudo-cripple, with just enough intelligence to go to Drexel. Apparently on a quest to find a freshman here at Penn, he got up and proudly announced, "I'm a freshman at Drexel, do you know my friend?" Needless to say we didn't, but he asked a cheerleader just in case he would know. Meanwhile, as we indulged ourselves with the game, The Drexel Kid got up and started to lead chants aimed in Cornell's direction. "Coe-nell sucks," he yelled, with his two inept arms flailing in the breeze. Dressed in a Drexel hat and Drexel shorts (yup, shorts in 30-degree weather), he kept his popularity alive by getting us to chant, "Pwince-ton sucks!" in his high annoying voice. As he limped away, we at Roundup only had visions of the future of Drexel in him. Those visions were only bolstered as we offered him tickets to the Russian-Penn basketball game. "I'll twy to come, but I got me a Dwexel game fiwst," he replied. Oh well. Thank God we'll never have to see him again.

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