Hey ‘Chippers, what’s up? As a place for sports commentary, MachoChip was obligated to pair a fat guy with the skinny guy, which is why they hired me. It’s like Mike and Mike in the Morning or Mike and the Mad Dog, only it’s Alexes instead of Mikes and the only Mad Dog we have sits in the fridge for those days when the Google Reader and tips run dry.

I’m a first generation American, so my team allegiances were formed the same way people hook up at the end of a drunken night—they were the closest when it was time to choose. Fortunately for you, these teams have a drunken and stabby fanbase, so I’ve seen things at stadiums that could only make the “too hot” DVD version of an HBO special. That’s why I feel right at home at MachoChip. Nothing’s too squeamish for me to roll with or too vulgar for me to slap on the site, but know I’ll report on everything with some class. Well, as classy as blogging about compound fracture can get.

Alejandro told me while we were getting MachoChip ready that this was something really special, and I nodded. It’s going to be a thrill ride for you, the reader, and us. So strap yourself in. And if you can’t fit in the seat, get lost. We’ve already met our panson quota.