7 Sports Stars Who Were In Nightmarishly Bad Commercials

Not every professional athlete gets Michael Jordan's advertising campaigns. The lucky few who have the chance to film a commercial rarely get to see it air beyond city limits. These are local commercials, and if you're a pro-athlete moderately well-known within your city, the low-budget, low-creativity world of commercials for local businesses is your financial salvation -- and the only taste of the superstar lifestyle you may ever get.

There's just one small catch: There's a very good chance your commercial will suck. Like these ...

#7. Scottie Pippen For Mr. Submarine Sub Shop

It was 1991. The Chicago Bulls won their first of three consecutive NBA championships. Michael Jordan was starring in Wheaties commercials, Spike Lee was directing his Nike ads, and Gatorade commercials demanded that we all "Be Like Mike."

Meanwhile, the Bulls' second scoring option, Scottie Pippen, was slam-dunking subs for a Chicago-area sandwich joint called Mr. Submarine.

Ball, ball, TURKEY ON WHITE.

In the middle of practice, Scottie Pippin is suddenly and mysteriously confronted with a 6-foot sub sandwich standing before him, like the Monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey made of bread and deli meats. It must mean something. His trusty companions, two Chicago Bulls cheerleaders, Kim and Cheryl, rush to his side to help solve the mystery of The Suddenly Appearing Sandwich. Scottie offers his thoughts:

Or ... maybe he's sexually intimidated by the sub, so he drafts the services of two ladies to help him sexually conquer it? I can't be sure. I just know that when I watched Jordan's commercials I was never left wondering if he wanted to drink a Gatorade or slip his penis into one.

#6. Joe Flacco Is A Soulless Shill For Restaurants

Hi. Baltimore Ravens quarterback Joe Flacco here for pizza. You know, you should pizza sometimes. Not always. Heavens to Betsy! That'd be wild if you did! Boy! But sometimes, pizza.

You know, pizza is a lot like this shirt I'm wearing. Some parts are red. Other parts, not so much red. I can't eat my shirt, though. Because it's not pizza. I only eat pizza. Throw football.

[throws football at nothing]

This has been Joe Flacco for pizza.

Hi. Joe Flacco for mothers, here. Mothers are great. They wipe your rump when it's dirty, and they hug you. They are some of the best things out there, and that's including all the good things!

Welp, that's about it for m- What? Another eating place? Dang. That sure ain't a mother.

Hi. Joe Flacco for eating places, here ...

#5. Hunter Pence For Liscio's Bakery

According to Major League outfielder Hunter Pence, these are the things you can do with loaves of bread purchased from Liscio's Bakery:

1) They can convincingly double as prosthetic legs:

2) You can practice jerking off a two-dicked bread monster as you run down the streets of Philadelphia:

3) You can do whatever this is:

4) You can make the tips kiss again and again and again and again and again ...

Hunter Pence does not know how to use bread.

#4. The Pittsburgh Penguins For A&L BMW Dealership

Hockey faces are brutal, jagged, and lumpy like a boxer's face a couple of days after a fight -- but forever. They're stern, blue-collar people from cold lands and thus look unnatural in their ill-fitting fancy suits. They lack anything resembling charisma and charm. They're men who would rather harvest a field of wheat in Edmonton than speak into a microphone.

So, naturally, a Pittsburgh-area BMW dealership had the wonderful idea to film a commercial with four members of the Pittsburgh Penguins who were presumably being held at gunpoint.

That's former Penguin Max Talbot as he demonstrates how to repel all potential mates within 10 miles. Before this, Talbot mocks a fellow teammate for getting special treatment at the dealership, because they give special treatment only to "superstars, like me." Talbot says this oblivious to the fact that calling a hockey player a "star" is exactly as ridiculous as meaning it in the literal sense. Then, the shocking twist ...


Evgeni Malkin and Sergei Gonchar (two names I could have made up for all you know) are awkwardly standing in front of cars and have probably been standing there all day, waiting for someone to acknowledge them. Tired of waiting for a "Hello, are you hockey man?" that never comes, they decide to speak. Actually, only Gonchar speaks, and he's entirely unintelligible. Malkin's only responsibility is to catch a set of keys and stare at them with the dim smile of a man born without thoughts.

Good job, Evgeni.

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