If there's one thing we know best at Bleacher Report Swagger, it's sports hotties. We know photogenic ones, famous ones and controversial ones. We break down hotties in winter sports, hotties you don't know about and hotties who will jinx ya.
This is our wheelhouse, and we love it.
Still, in the never-ending pursuit of finding all that is athletic and sexy on the Internet, certain names—and their associated photos, video clips and sound bites—start to get tired. Sometimes it's from over-saturation, sometimes it's because it's simply time to move on.
Either way, the end result is the same: We don't care anymore—like in these cases here.
Solo's the hyper-competitive, Body Issue posing, Stars-dancing sports hottie we all embraced. As World Cup fever hit its Abby Wambach-aided high, we started to want more of the big names on the U.S Women's National Team—never mind the Finals collapse.
Solo was the main go-to in 2011, the one with enough sass, swagger and sex appeal to sell.
Like the Olympics, World Cup glory is fleeting. It's a once-every-four-years thing, with very few exceptions.
While the memories of 2011 stay fresh for diehard soccer fans, the once-in-demand Solo is no longer popping up on our TV in Nike commercials or finding her way onto gossip blogs for melting down on DTWS.
"Pressure Makes Us" works as a slogan to sell more swoosh apparel, but no amount of it can make us tune into any more of this goalie foxtrotting and tangoing on ABC.
Swimmers have some of the best bodies, and Amanda Beard's eagerness to show us all of hers in the mid-2000s did nothing but reinforce the axiom. Toned, tan, definition you didn't know was possible—swimmers have it, each curve honed by hours of butterfly, back, breast and free.
Beard won a pair of Olympic gold medals and has seven total medals from her time in the pool across the span of three Olympiads. Incredible feats, though almost all know her better for parlaying that fame—and body—into photo spreads that made her an athletic sex symbol for years.
For Beard, we'll always have the memories (and the Google Image results of her famous FHM shoot). But, from a hottie standpoint, she's grown up, moved on, become a mother and a blogger in addition to being an athlete.
Good for her. There comes a time in one's life when they realize they shouldn't be spread out naked in men's magazines, and Beard had her 15 very hot minutes.
The picture does a rather decent job of explaining here, though the time period could use some elaboration.
The "then" is 2005, when Tilly—and her, ahem, tank top—won a World Series of Poker Bracelet.
That was a big deal back in 05 when Americans—for some unexplained reason—couldn't get enough of watching people play cards for 15 hours a day on ESPN. Add in Tilly, an Academy Award-nominated actress with a penchant for showing off cleavage, and poof—sports hottie.
The poker fad thankfully has subsided; the non-nerds no longer enthralled by a percentage breakdown of "drawing a straight on the river." You'll still find the "sport" on television, but ESPN has all but moved on, realizing some dork in lizard-eyed sunglasses isn't as good as having Skip Bayless yell at everyone.
And Tilly? Sorry, but all the thrust-out-for-everyone-to-see cleavage in the world isn't going to make Texas Hold 'Em a national obsession again. We've moved on, as has Tilly, who seems to have a busy 2012 in the works with her day job.
A stripper and a baseball player?!
Actually, on the surface, it kind of makes sense...
Fact: Strippers like money.
Fact: Major League Baseball players have lots of money.
Fact: Major League Baseball players like girls and usually aren't Mensa-members on the intelligence scale.
We ate Anna up—every hot/sexy/crazy/psycho part of her in the late 1990s and early 2000s.
Want to know when a hot chick is past her prime?
Easy: if an FHM photoshoot is still part of her claim to fame.
Some of Benson's best shots, like the one on the previous slide, come from the now-defunct men's magazine, which shuddered its U.S. edition in 2007.
That's five years ago, in a society where relevance ebbs and flows by the tweet. Ancient.
Plus, Baseball Wives was (predictably) awful, and nobody cared. Benson was (supposedly) the "big name" on that VH1 disaster.
If you can't succeed in a realty TV market where fighting over storage units and pawning stuff makes you a star, it's time to go away.
Beach Volleyball = Sexy.
That's the take of the populace, and it helps when there's an eccentric, Olympic-gold winning face and body to sell with it—like Misty. She won gold with her partner in the 2004 and 2008 games, and parlayed it into success; we wanted more and more of her and her "uniform."
Oh, and of course she did Dancing with the Stars.
This is essentially a redux of the Hope Solo argument, though it bears repeating in case the point didn't come across:
If an athlete plays a sport the populace only follows once-every-four-years, the flame is going to burn out.
Plus, May-Treanor's hotness was more packaged and forced upon us than most. It felt artificial, manufactured—too-much make-up'ed.
Don't worry, though, there's plenty of others.
People all over this country go to great lengths to be discovered. They spring for head shots, take acting lessons, meet with seedy casting agents and pay the bills waiting tables. They're all cliches because they're true.
Then there's Jenn Sterger. She put on a bikini and went to Florida State games. Really. God Bless America.
Sterger and her "FSU Cowgirl" friends were shown on national TV in 2005, and it launched a career where she would end up working on air for the New York Jets. We just couldn't get enough of this sun-kissed Seminole.
The interception-throwing, Wrangler-hawking, never-retiring drama queen of a quarterback ruined Sterger for all of us.
You know the story, and nobody here really wants to think about it. The story took Sterger from a blog favorite to the mainstream—in all the bad ways.
By the time the salaciousness subsided, Sterger was damaged goods from a media perspective. It may not be fair, but our society is harsh. She won't be finding herself on an NFL sideline anytime soon.
That's Jessica Simpson at her highest level of celebrity, when America latched onto her, apparently thirsty for more after she demonstrated her intelligence level with a can of tuna fish.
This was in the lovely, pre-recession mid-2000s. And regardless of her abilities as an "artist" or the millions of people who blamed her for the Cowboys' woes, she was a sports hottie, pink-accented No. 9 jersey and all.
But the "care about" part of this tale is closed.
Simpson and the rest of her family are far from their spotlight-commanding days and are living a more demure existence. Sure, the gossip blogs have plenty of Jessica's pregnancy, engagement and weight fluctuations, but it's not the same.
Goodbye, Jessica Jinx.
The 'then" in this case can span a long, long time; Kournikova's hotness isn't going anywhere. She's the sporty version of Halle Berry, Elizabeth Hurley and Kate Beckinsale. She'll always be easy on the eyes.
Still, there was a time when we couldn't get enough of this not-very-good-but-oh-so-sexy tennis star. She predated blogs and the like, so we bought calendars and magazines. We ignored her on-court performance—an occurrence that seems commonplace now, but wasn't in the past—and focused on how good she looked in a skirt.
Kournikova was a trendsetter.
Her hotness hasn't faded, but her relevance has.
Sexiness trumps winning in our society, but the ratio gets smaller and smaller after decades of futility. That's the case with Anna, and her personality hasn't helped much either.
Take the Biggest Loser fail, for example. Kournikova just doesn't click the way she used to, her name and blonde locks no longer move the proverbial needle.
For years, Finch had ownage on an entire sport.
Ask anyone around you to name a softball player, and her name will pop up faster than the rise ball she used to tally strikeouts with around the world.
Tall, blonde, beautiful and wickedly talented, Finch was the face of her sport, an ambassador who also happened to pose for pictures like the one above.
Finch is all grown up, retired and married. She's a mother with a son named after semi-truck fuel/designer jeans brand.
The pose-in-bathing-suit days are over for the gold medalist, though there will always be the search engine-derived recollections.
Posh Spice and David Beckham—they were making news over here in the dial-up days.
The greatest soccer player on the globe with an international pop star? Amazing!
Paparazzi ate up the super-photogenic couple and sent their images across the wires where they ended up in the glossy pages of supermarket tabloids near you.
We wanted to know—and see—more and more. We actually really did.
Meh. When the Beckhams arrived on our shores, there was plenty of ballyhoo and whatnot, though the transition to collective yawning over the couple happened in record time.
Turns out, they just weren't that interesting.
(And take off your sunglasses, Victoria. If you held them over your head, you'd darken the tri-state area.)
Remember that failed NBC series, anyone? The series that was truncated into a "special."
Yup, turns out we were done caring about Victoria years ago.
Peep the dating history between 2003 and 2005.
At that point, Milano was at apex of her hotness, and it showed by bagging a trio of big-league pitchers.
You know what else started to proliferate between 2003 and 2005?
Blogs—blogs that latch onto hotties dating sports stars and devote posts, galleries and tributes to them, coding in pic after pic of the actress who dated Carl Pavano and Barry Zito in succession.
The hotness is still there (see picture), but the interest has waned.
We've been down this road—have been for nine years now? (Time flies, doesn't it?)
We get it—Milano's beautiful, and she likes athletes and sports.
Wow! She's pretty, with a large posterior, and made a sex tape with Brandy's brother!
America devoured it all, paving the way for the reality show and eventual media domination that made this talentless, haughty, shallow family way too rich.
Kim's the linchpin of it all, and her dating of Reggie Bush and then Kris Humphries roped in the sports world, too.
Another step toward world domination...
Make it stop.
Make. It. Stop.
That's what so many are hoping for, the reason so many have been turned off by the 72-day marriage and tabloid pandering and pathetic on-camera pantomiming that's defined the last few months in Kardashian-land.
Yet, there's always plenty of zombies who will still tune in and click. So the epidemic will continue, albeit with a little bit of a limp from the marriage publicity hit.
This slide is for me, because I don't care anymore, and neither should you. Go watch the news.
Behold the power of the Internet, especially when it comes to college boys wanting to look at hot girls on their laptops. Mix in the Information Superhighway with frat bros from UCLA to LSU, and you get a phenomenon like Allison Stokke.
Stokke was photographed at a track meet, minding her own business, wearing a track uniform (they happen to be skin-tight) and competing in the pole vault (her sport).
All of a sudden—because she's drop-dead gorgeous—Stokke was all over the net, a celebrity among the 18-to-25-year-old set.
Stokke's college career is over; she's no longer a pole vaulter at Cal, no longer available in a public forum for anybody with a DSLR to get their snap on.
Stokke is out.
Though, technically, she was never in.
While the net is full of losers trying to make themselves celebs online, Stokke spurned all the attention and went underground. Look all you want: no interviews, and the same old pictures trotted out over and over again.
She never planned or wanted all this, and it's time to let go. It's 2012, there's plenty of other hot track stars to ooggle out there—ones who actually want the attention, even.
Everybody wanted Elisha Cuthbert in the mid-2000s. You, me, your friends, your friends' friends' cousins' friends.
It's not like anybody watched The Girl Next Door for the storyline.
She was sooooo hot, scorching even. She dated Sean Avery (who, at that point, wasn't yet completely insufferable), which officially made her a sports hottie. We happily accepted the relationship.
That Girl Next Door flick? It's eight years old now.
It's been eight years since the pinnacle of Cuthbert's career.
Everything and everyone has its/their moment, and hers has long-since passed.
It's not fair, but her most relevant moment of recent note comes courtesy of Sean Avery and his ill-advised metaphors about dining. For what it's worth, Elisha, we always did support you here at Bleacher Report.
What's not to love?
She's sexy, blonde, likes sports—and takes off her clothes.
We were introduced to the spunkiest, most athletic Girl Next Door in 2005, and we wanted more. Luckily, as well-marketed ventures do, we were given it in bare-skinned spades.
We got Playboy spreads and season after season of the E! reality show. Then we got Kendra, another reality show. People watched that one, too.
(Oh, and because of Hank Baskett, she officially became a WAG. Bonus!)
Not only is the ditsy/sexy/sporty act tried, but Kendra's technically not a sports hottie, either.
Hank's no longer in the NFL. He's long gone, left with the memories of botching that onside kick in the Super Bowl. (Sorry, Colts fans.) Now all we have left is a tired reality show full of stars with tired acts living tired lives.
Yawn. At least there's plenty of new potential on the horizon.