October 6, 2011

A Visit With Dr. Lou

By Robb Witmer Full  |  October 6, 2011


Four weeks into the football season, the author’s record in the PushMaster Invitational Football Pool  perhaps the greatest football pool in the history of the Internet  stood at a paltry 5-13-2, good for 22nd place out of 25 Players.

Seeking council and support, the author used his connections at America-Thrust and within the PushMaster Council to get himself booked as a guest on ESPN’s smash-hit
Dr. Lou program.

While Dr. Lou has recently halted his recreational addiction to intravenous adrenaline shots, he remains on a prescribed regimen of large doses of both Oxycontin and synthetic mescaline, which oftentimes leads to rambling incoherence.

In the event that Dr. Lou’s lucidity is compromised and his material becomes too unintelligible, ESPN’s standards & practices board will scrap the episode completely, destroying every known copy. It is also their practice, however, to transcribe these episodes for preservation in the ESPN Vault, located one-and-a-half leagues below Storrs, CT.

According to expert sources, roughly 75% of
Dr. Lou episodes do not make it past the s&p board, which would explain why an average of only three episodes are broadcast each season. Unfortunately, the author’s episode was one of the many rejects.

Following is a transcript of that episode. All known video copies of the episode have been destroyed. The transcript was obtained through underground sources that run deep into the ESPN empire.


DR. LOU: Well, folks, it looks like another week of college football is upon us. Who knew I would have made it this long? Not me. Nor my credit card company. To hell with those fellas anyway. Wouldn't mind if their balls fell off and into their cup of morning joe.

But hey, Holy Toledo, I have good news. It seems that while I was splitting a hefty sack of yeyo with my old buddy Reeg, I mistakenly agreed to allow a special guest for this episode of Dr. Lou. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but the couch is already pretty full of pink giraffes. But here he is, right here to my left, some fella named Bob.

ROBB: Robb.

DR. LOU: Oh, whatever. It’s like they said about Shakespeare: It doesn’t matter how the rose smells, so long as the boat can float. What seems to be the problem, Bub.

ROBB: It’s my football pool, Dr. Lou. Nothing’s going right for me this year. Overs, unders, underdogs, favorites, I’m losing them all. What the fucking hell is going on here? Did I mention I’m losing to a squirrel in my neighborhood pool?

DR. LOU: [laughs] Don’t underestimate the raccoon. He’s still in it.

ROBB: I’m not, but, Doc, can’t you just give me some winners? I’m desperate here.

DR. LOU: That’s not quite what I do, Bubba. Last time I placed a point-spread wager was in a back-alley handball match deep inside the heart of Bangkok, roughly 1933. Lost the shirt off my back and the lint from my pocket. It cost me a few bucks and I spent six months as a sex-slave, but I learned a valuable lesson about childhood.

ROBB: So you’re saying I should...

DR. LOU: Here’s a list of games. Now close your eyes... Good, now point.

ROBB: OREGON (-24)? That’s a lot of points. On a Thursday night game? This can’t be right Doc. I don’t know anything about these teams. I hate this pick already.

DR. LOU: Speaking of hating things, let’s take a phone call from the reigning King of Self-Loathing, my old pal Rich Rodriguez.

RICH-ROD: Hi, Doctor Lou. How’s the syphilis?

DR. LOU: Raging. How’s the taxidermy business?

RICH-ROD: Mostly squirrels these days. It’ll pick up soon. At least it gives me something to do when I’m not in my back-yard burning garbage.

DR. LOU: Rod, we’ve got a young man here looking for a winning football pick this weekend. Now, he seems like a nice enough chap. Why don’t you pull a trick out of your sack.

RICH-ROD: I don’t know who they’re playing, but I’d have to go with MICHIGAN (-7.5). I hear the new coach spends his time on the sidelines doing things besides arguing with ball-boys and pouring Gatorade down his pants. Did you know that during my last ten games there my headset wasn’t connected to anything?

ROBB: Ugh, I hate Michigan, and I just know Denard Robinson is going to fumble away at least two touchdowns. Do I seriously have to make this pick?

DR. LOU: That’s just great Rich. Do you have one more?

RICH-ROD: Um, what about STANFORD (-29.5)? Are they still a team?

ROBB: Dr. Lou, that’s almost thirty points! Plus Stanford’s on a roll, and one thing I don’t do is pick a college team on a roll!

DR. LOU: Shut your eat-hole, son. Sometimes you have to go against your instincts in order to better follow them.

ROBB: Wow, this is like some Mr. Miyagi shit.

RICH-ROD: Hey guys, this has been great, but I’ve gotta go. Someone just threw a flaming couch through my living room window. [hangs up]

ROBB: This sucks, Doc. I mean, I usually hate my picks, but these picks I want to drag behind my car through the desert.

DR. LOU: What did I say about shutting up? Have you seen the lines for the NFL yet this week.

ROBB: No. Hey are these cameras on? We’re taping? I already said ‘fuck’ a couple times I think.

DR. LOU: Okay, without looking, what are the two worst picks of the week?

ROBB: Well, the VIKINGS (-3) are super shitty. You’d have to be a moron to pick them.

DR. LOU: Good...

ROBB: Oh, and the Lions are playing great right now. Going with WHOEVER IS PLAYING THE LIONS (+6) is clearly a bad pick.

DR. LOU: Well, sir, it looks like we have this week’s winners.

ROBB: What? These are my picks? You’ve deceived me, Dr. Lou! I can’t take them back.

DR. LOU: You’ll thank me later. Hey, if you’ve got a little extra time, I’ve got a handful of mescaline. A friend is stopping by in a minute, and we might go out for some tomfoolery.

ROBB: Synthetic?

DR. LOU: Pharmaceutical grade.

[Dr. Lou gives Robb a small pile of mescaline and they both swallow some with water. They high-five.]

DR. LOU: My Oxycontin is around here somewhere...

[Loud tire-screeching can be heard from outside the studio. Robb and Dr. Lou are both startled and turn around quickly to see Regis burst through the door.]

REGIS: Dr. Lou! What the fuck are we waiting for? Let’s go old timer, these strippers aren’t going to snort cocaine off of their own asses!

DR. LOU: Well, Bob, let’s go.

[Dr. Lou and Robb run out of the studio behind Regis, knocking the camera over as they pass it. The video cuts out.]


Robb Witmer Full got these lines from the MGM-Mirage at 12:54 PM MDT on Tuesday, and while he can barely remember his appearance on the Dr. Lou program or making the above picks at all, he remains fairly confident that his luck in the PushMaster Invitational will remain as shitty as ever.