But sometimes it’s just as fun to listen to really bad music as it is to listen to really good music. It’s like movies. I love it when I’m watching a movie and I realize it’s awful. It gives me something to talk about for weeks!

So I decided I want to do that with music. I want to listen to bad music, and then whine about it here on the DSD blog. so I dug in the headphones and turned on the ’90s Pop station on Pandora. Here are the songs, the artists, and my snarky little commentary. The only rule? I can’t hit Thumbs Down on anything.

Creep – TLC: RIP, Left-eye. No, Lisa “Left-eye” Lopez didn’t impact my life in any meaningful way. That’s just what you have to write when you listen to a TLC song.

All the Small Things – Blink 182: I admit, I went through a punk phase in Jr. High. And when Blink 182 went mainstream with “All the Small Things” I felt like James Bond when he discovered the true identity of Janus in Goldeneye. ’90s.

Oops I Did it Again – Britney Spears: Fine. I’m a sucker for the spoken-word astronaut love scene in the middle of this song. But seriously, I think every guy my age became an expert at tuning out Britney’s music in Jr. High.

I Saw the Sign – Ace of Base: Whatever happened to those guys? They struck gold with “All that she wants” and then left us standing in the streets, empty handed. It’s either great showmanship, or a crime against humanity.

Killing Me Softly – Fugees: Ah, a ray of light bursts through the clouds! I really do like this song. Wyclef and Lauryn were my generation’s… Donny and Marie? Woah… Yikes! who is that random angry guy at the end of the song?! Have you guys heard this? Weird.

Right Here Waiting – Richard Marx: I pride myself on my musical knowledge, but this is a no-brainer. There are some songs that just seep into your brain, and this is one of them. I’m pretty sure you could sing the opening lines of the chorus to a Burmese headhunter and he’d be able to sing the rest back to you without skipping a beat.

Barbie Girl – Aqua: Seriously considering violating my only rule…

Hit Me Baby One More Time – Britney Spears: Seriously? I thought I’d get at least one H&TB song before I got more Britney Spears. That’s my abbreviation for Hootie and the Blowfish, by the way.

I Love You Always Forever – Donna Lewis: I’ve always wondered who sang this song. It reminds me of being in the car on my way to swimming lessons. I’m definitely not going to go home and put this in my permanent rotation…

Tearin’ Up My Heart – *NSync: JT must look back on *NSync like Teddy Kennedy looked back on Chappaquiddick. He’s in a good place now, but he knows that if he takes one bad step we’ll bring up his dark past. (A big sorry to my friends on email who already saw that joke).

Give Me One Reason – Tracy Chapman: I love this song, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. In fact, this song has found a place on my ultra-exclusive “Five-Star Generals” playlist, reserved only for songs who receive the coveted five-star rating.

Summer Girls – LFO: Yes! I was waiting for this song, and here it is! You know, I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for LFO. Their songs are so bad, but I always considered it a wink at the boy band era. Like their songs were just a big inside joke. Whether that’s true or not, that’s what I’m going with. Seriously though, do yourself a favor and look up the lyrics to this song. You’ll be rolling. “Stayed all summer then went back home, Macauly Culkin wasn’t Home Alone. Fell deep in love, but now we ain’t speaking, Michael J Fox was Alex P Keaton.” You can’t make that stuff up.

I better call it here. End on a high note, you know? This was fun, though. I’ll definitely do this again soon. Heaven knows there’s enough bad music to go around.

Episode 19 is chock full of all the crazy stuff you love about Death Star D. Stat Man Steve makes another appearance, and Trevor fights the blues to bring you true A-game content.

Listen to Episode 19 now, and hear juicy morsels like these:

• Adam’s experiment with the ‘Today’s Top Hits” station on Pandora.com
• Jeris’ expanding Presidential platform
• Trevor’s wife’s nickname for Charles Abouo
• A Jimmer update from Stat Man Steve
• Oh yeah, and great BYU sports coverage. BYU at USF, Santa Clara, and a Gonzaga preview

The DSD trio is back for a shocking 18th week in a row, and they’re here to deliver quality podcast content for your listening pleasure.

In episode 18:

• A critical analysis of Hoosiers: Was Norman Dale or Jimmy Chitwood the key to the Huskers’ success?
• How did Buddy make it back to the team?
• Shooter: A brilliant assistant or a coaching liability?
• Oh yeah… and some other stuff.
• Like BYU basketball!
• BYU blasts Pepperdine
• The Cougars leave their shooting slump behind, Matt Carlino lingers.
• The Grammys: Who are all these people?

Cuddle with your Valentine sweetheart, and enjoy!

Note: After much thought, I have decided not to name the elbow-happy maniac who put me and my teammate out of commission in this post. But if you follow me on Twitter you could figure it out pretty easily.

I need you to know something before I begin this post: I was a ref before. Believe it or not, I was dumb enough to seek out and apply for a job officiating BYU intramural basketball.

I guess we all do some stupid crap in college, right?

It didn’t take long before I realized I wasn’t compensated near enough to take the kind of abuse I was subject to on a nightly basis, so I quit.

It’s because I have that experience, however, that I’m a little forgiving when it comes to amateur officials. These guys are not trained, first of all, and they are definitely not compensated enough to really take their responsibilities seriously. So even though I allow myself to yell and talk back occasionally, I never go overboard.

But every once in a while, they deserve everything they get. And it just so happens I was a part of such a night this week.

It was a tough game. The score bounced back and forth all night. Both teams were playing their hearts out. The refs were inconsistent and silly, but that’s nothing new. No, it didn’t get egregious until about four minutes were left on the clock. That’s when the elbows started flying.

I was the first victim. I was anchoring the middle of a 2-3 zone, and my team was defending an out-of-bounds play. I noticed the guy throwing it in give a little signal to one of his teammates on the perimeter. They wanted the alley-oop. I know what you’re thinking, and yes, they could have pulled it off. The oop-ee already proved through the course of the night that he could throw down.

So I set out to defend it best I could. I turned around only to find myself in the middle of a tornado of fists and elbows. I don’t know what happened, or how it happened, but the next thing I knew I was on the ground and my head felt like it had been hit with a brick.

I lay there for a while in a haze. I could hear the game being played around me, but I was a little confused as to why whatever happened to me didn’t stop play. Eventually the refs whistled a dead ball and I staggered to my bench, not missing the opportunity to give the dead-eyed ref a piece of my mind.

I sat on the bench, angry, eye swollen shut, and the thought occurred to me that I better not check in because I might actually hurt someone. I silenced that voice and went back in the game anyway.

I didn’t hurt anyone, but I did witness the sacking of the second victim: my teammate Erik. The game was just about over. Thirty seconds, in fact. We were going to lose, but that didn’t stop us from trying to finish the game with a little dignity.

Erik trapped his man on the sideline, the same guy that took me out, by the way, and tied him up. Both were struggling for the ball when the opposing player swung an elbow and viciously tagged Erik on the temple, putting him down on the court, and down for the count.

I was just a few feet away. I saw the whole thing, and there was definitely malice in the offender’s face. It wasn’t surprising; the guy was playing dirty all night. It was a brutal elbow. It was the kind of thing that would probably get most people ejected.

Only the numb-skulled, cowardly and incompetent refs just stood there, breathing out of their mouths, letting play resume.

That’s when all hell broke loose. My team, collectively, blew up. We charged at one official (who called the game by this point) and demanded some reason why he didn’t punish the thug who dropped not one, but two of our players. I turned to the other ref and I asked him point blank if he saw the elbow. He didn’t answer, so I asked again. He looked the other way. I kept asking while he sulked away and tried to ignore what just happened.

Erik was still on the floor.

Meanwhile, ref No. 1 was still being accosted. One of my teammates, let’s call him… Greg, was in the ref’s face dropping just about every curse word you can imagine. He was absolutely livid, as we all were, that a member of our team was clocked while the offender went unpunished.

Greg made the conscious decision to see this thing through to the bitter end, regardless of consequence. He kept shouting until both refs, the program administrator and other onlookers threatened to call the cops. Greg was informed he would never play in the league again, but he didn’t care. To him, Erik was more important than a stupid city league.

At this point, I left. I decided it would be best to go somewhere and calm down before I did something I would regret. Besides, I could barely see. I figured it was time I went home and put a bag of ice on my face, or failing that, a nice juicy t-bone.

It was a crazy night. One that made me seriously consider giving up bad basketball forever.

Everything is okay now, I guess, even though I still get a little fired up when I think about it. I guess the parting message I want to leave with you, though, is this: If you ever find yourself officiating any kind of basketball, and you see a player tag another player with his elbow, blow your freaking whistle.

Episode 17 highlights:

• Our first “You start the show” intro featuring… you’ll have to see.
• Super Bowl festivities. What did we eat? What commercials did we like? Who got bored?
• Adam’s joke about Madonna that he stole off Twitter
• A whole bunch of BYU Hoops Talk
• The Marriott Center gets its groove back
• Jeris’ ideas for how to fix the 3-point shooting
• Another issue of Police Beat!

Enjoy! I know I always do.

That’s why we want you to open our show, each and every week. Here’s the vision: You record a brief, personal opening to Death Star D. We play that recording before any given episode. You rejoice, because you are now an official Internet superstar (just ask Justin Bieber how that worked out for him).

Here’s some examples of what you could possibly record:

• “Hi! This is Chuck Norris, and I’d like to personally welcome you to Death Star D.”
• “What it be? It’s Slizzle McNizzle and you’re about to get BLITZED with Death Star D!”
• “Hey everybody. My name is Mitt Romney, and I approve of Death Star D for your listening pleasure.”

But be sure to include your own name. Or, failing that, be sure to make it hilarious.

Record your opening as an mp3 file, and email it to DeathStarD@gmail.com. Thanks in advance. And thanks for listening!

Take a listen, and hear the good news about…

• BYU’s loss to Saint Mary’s
• Has the Marriott Center lost its magic?
• Why can’t BYU hit a three pointer?
• America’s next tennis superstar
• Jeris’ presidential platform

As the French say, enjoy!

It was a heartbreaker. We had our chances, but couldn’t execute in critical times. Yeah, there were a few incidents (four technical fouls, actually. Yeesh.), but for the most part it was a clean game, free of chippiness and full of general civility.

But one issue from this game stood a little taller than the rest, and it needs to be addressed. Today. It’s old man strength.

Everyone who plays bad basketball knows what old man strength is. But just in case you’re a newcomer, I’ll explain it. Old man strength is a phenomenon in bad basketball. It is a special set of skills (think Liam Neeson) possessed by men of a certain age that allows them to compete with younger, faster and better players.

I don’t know what happens to old men; their pride must give them special powers. When their old man strength comes they can push and post and bang on the block with the best of ‘em.

But old man strength encompasses more than just physical power. Part of old man strength – a significant part – is the ability to flat-out cheat without getting caught. Old men are universally dirty basketball players. They push, they grab, they kick, and they feel good about it.

In case you haven’t guessed it already, I played against a couple of old men the other night. Complete with their touch-of-gray hair and their cutoff t-shirts. I always roll my eyes a little bit when I see the old man warming up on the hoop opposite mine. Long night’s comin’. Better put on the kidney pads.

Sure enough, the old men summoned their strength and went to work on the low block. Take a look at these classic old man moves I had to deal with during the game:

• The pull-down: The ball’s in the air, I turn my back on the old man to box him out, and he counters by grabbing my arm and pulling me down to the ground.
• The stampede: Old man is driving to the hoop, and he’s running at full steam. I can take the charge, but I’ll feel the consequences (PS- I did, and I did).
• The assist: Old man’s younger, more agile teammate is driving into the lane. I take special care not to foul, but old man pushes me(!) into his teammate so I get whistled. That really happened.

Old guys are the nicest guys, usually, but they have no conscience when the ball is in play. This guy I played against is probably a great dad, a loving husband and an outstanding member of the community. But on the court he was a landslide of elbows, fists and knees-to-the-thigh.

So the next time you’re playing bad basketball, in a city league or otherwise, beware of the old dude on the other team (you can spot him stretching his back on the sidelines).

In this episode you’ll hear all about…

• Adam’s dentist report
• This week in BYU hoops
• Trevor’s rebuttal to our wild and rampant Brock Zylstra praises
• Instant analysis of the Virginia Tech from the one person who actually listened to it (Adam)
• Police Beat!

Enjoy your listening experience. Gather around your favorite listening device, and huddle your loved ones close.

Episode 14 is chock full of the crispiest takes in the world of BYU sports. For example:

• BYU’s week in the (boring?) WCC
• Trevor may have to eat his words about Brock “Ghostface” Zylstra
• A first-hand account of today’s Cougar Club Luncheon featuring BYU head coach Dave Rose
• Adam is putting his dentist to the test
• All new segment: Police Beat! Featuring Chuggs Taylor, and Jeris’ cousin Steve.

I insist you enjoy this episode as much as we enjoyed putting it together. You owe us that much.

Jeris and Adam live from the Man Cave