Tonight War Criminal Cam Newton will win the Heisman Trophy temporarily. There remains little doubt that Newton was aware that his father was receiving payment for his attendance at Auburn. Needless to say the SEC is not necessarily known for fairness and honesty in competition. All of that is beside the point.
The point that young Cam is missing out on concerns the attendance of his father at the event. The elder Newton announced this week he will not attend the ceremony to avoid robbing his son of a sacred moment. An action that is no doubt intended to keep him from having to answer any tough questions about his actions on behalf of his son. In terms of Cam, the question remains should he accept an award at a place where is father is clearly not welcome.
I was daydreaming about this particular circumstance earlier this week. What if I was the clear front runner for the Heisman, but some hypocritical douchebags (the NCAA and College Football in particularmake billions of dollars off the work of these individuals) claimed my father could not attend for some reason? Now I understand that Cecil's actions preempted people from banning him from the ceremony, but what if he had not. My answer would be tough. Any organization that is not willing to have my family present can stick it up their asses.
I would attend the ceremony. I would leave myself eligible to win the award. Once I won the award I would refuse to touch the trophy. I would step to the microphone and express my feelings concerning the hypocrisy of college football. I would tell them thank you, but no thank you. The Heisman Trophy is a piece of bronze and blood is thicker than even bronze. I'd call the second place vote getter to the podium and declare him the winner. Then I'd ride off into the sunset of professional football, millions of dollars and mega babes. I'd be a legend. The only guy to ever turn down the Heisman.
Cam, turn it down. Do it for your dad.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Ron Santo...Hall of Famer
The Baseball Hall of Fame is not all about numbers. My brother would argue otherwise as he holds up his "Mazeroski, You Don't Belong!" sign. With all due respect, and remember I am saying with all due respect, my brother is wrong, the truth is the Hall of Fame is about one word "fame." Fame is about importance and significance to us all.
Let's review the initial Hall of Fame class. The legendary 5. Ruth, Cobb, Johnson, Matthewson and Wagner. While each of these individuals had some of the most impressive numbers in history at the time, it was not all about the numbers. Ruth was the most famous baseball player ever. Cobb was a son-of-a-bitch on an epic scale, and therefore endlessly entertaining. Matthewson lost it all in the Great War. Wagner, well he might have been about the numbers. Johnson was an incredible talent, but like Wagner, had incredible numbers. However, a lot of the numbers guys, Young and the deadball era players, had to wait behind their more famous colleagues.
The point of the Hall of Fame is not to just reward numbers. If it were the Bert Blyleven would already be in. The Hall is about being important to us as a society. Ruth altered baseball forever. Johnson was unprecedented in his dominance. Cobb lead the most important statistic of his time, batting average, by a large margin. Mazeroski created one of the most indelible memories in baseball history.
Very few players of his time are currently more important to baseball than Santo is today. Santo is the high priest of Cubs suffering. His passing marks, for us Cubs fans, another sad milestone. Another one of us that passed away before seeing the Cubs break the curse. I heard someone today say that no one deserved to see the Cubs win the World Series more than Santo. I wholeheartedly agree.
Santo's passion and love for the lovable losers make him a paragon of what baseball should be about. The child in all of us loving unconditionally something that means nothing at all. (Thanks to Mike Greenberg) Santo didn't just love. he didn't just love unconditionally. He loved completely and we loved him back. He should have been in the Hall of Fame anyway you look at it...numbers...fame...importance.
Finally, no one should overlook Santo's work as a humanitarian. His efforts with Juvenile Diabetes and diabetes awareness are immeasurable. I read somewhere today that Santo would personally call diabetes patients that wrote him about losing a limb. He thought it made it more memorable for them. I'd like to see evidence Cobb made one call that did not involve money or getting laid.
The fact Santo was not voted into the Hall of Fame during his lifetime is one of the great tragedies of baseball history. Sadly, it can never be corrected. Even posthumous induction will rob us all of the opportunity to watch Santo bask the universal love he so deserved from the entire baseball world.
Let's review the initial Hall of Fame class. The legendary 5. Ruth, Cobb, Johnson, Matthewson and Wagner. While each of these individuals had some of the most impressive numbers in history at the time, it was not all about the numbers. Ruth was the most famous baseball player ever. Cobb was a son-of-a-bitch on an epic scale, and therefore endlessly entertaining. Matthewson lost it all in the Great War. Wagner, well he might have been about the numbers. Johnson was an incredible talent, but like Wagner, had incredible numbers. However, a lot of the numbers guys, Young and the deadball era players, had to wait behind their more famous colleagues.
The point of the Hall of Fame is not to just reward numbers. If it were the Bert Blyleven would already be in. The Hall is about being important to us as a society. Ruth altered baseball forever. Johnson was unprecedented in his dominance. Cobb lead the most important statistic of his time, batting average, by a large margin. Mazeroski created one of the most indelible memories in baseball history.
Very few players of his time are currently more important to baseball than Santo is today. Santo is the high priest of Cubs suffering. His passing marks, for us Cubs fans, another sad milestone. Another one of us that passed away before seeing the Cubs break the curse. I heard someone today say that no one deserved to see the Cubs win the World Series more than Santo. I wholeheartedly agree.
Santo's passion and love for the lovable losers make him a paragon of what baseball should be about. The child in all of us loving unconditionally something that means nothing at all. (Thanks to Mike Greenberg) Santo didn't just love. he didn't just love unconditionally. He loved completely and we loved him back. He should have been in the Hall of Fame anyway you look at it...numbers...fame...importance.
Finally, no one should overlook Santo's work as a humanitarian. His efforts with Juvenile Diabetes and diabetes awareness are immeasurable. I read somewhere today that Santo would personally call diabetes patients that wrote him about losing a limb. He thought it made it more memorable for them. I'd like to see evidence Cobb made one call that did not involve money or getting laid.
The fact Santo was not voted into the Hall of Fame during his lifetime is one of the great tragedies of baseball history. Sadly, it can never be corrected. Even posthumous induction will rob us all of the opportunity to watch Santo bask the universal love he so deserved from the entire baseball world.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Qatar and the bottomless abyss
Listen, I don't mean to offend anyone here. However, the questionable decision to hold the World Cup in the middle of nowhere deserves some discussion. As I understand it the expected game time temperatures for Qatar during the World Cup will be 130 degrees. That's right. 130 degrees.
How are humans supposed to survive in that kind of environment? Can our cruisers repel firepower of that magnitude? Is it indeed a trap? Is this a conspiracy to have an African team finally succeed in World Cup play? How many overweight fans perish in this inhospitable environment?
I cannot imagine a bigger competitive disadvantage for European teams (I'm looking at you England) than playing the games on Satan's left asscheek. Those poor limeys will be melting before half. I suppose coaches can attempt to counteract this problem by having their team train (see, aren't I informative? I know soccor lingo) in oppressive heat in the time leading up to the game. But how does one simulate 130 degree heat? Is is possible to fit a soccor field within a microwave oven? Do you get portable heaters?
In any event, the end result of this type of thinking, first Russia then Qatar, is the outlandish concept of holding the tournament in a bottom less pit. Much like the famous Simpson's episode where Ozzie Smith falls down a bottomless pit, this scenario is not unrealistic. It would truly test the fortitude of international footballers to find out that they can only compete for the sport's greatest prize by willingly subjecting themselves to an eternity falling through blackness. At least they wouldn't need to air condition the stadiums.
How are humans supposed to survive in that kind of environment? Can our cruisers repel firepower of that magnitude? Is it indeed a trap? Is this a conspiracy to have an African team finally succeed in World Cup play? How many overweight fans perish in this inhospitable environment?
I cannot imagine a bigger competitive disadvantage for European teams (I'm looking at you England) than playing the games on Satan's left asscheek. Those poor limeys will be melting before half. I suppose coaches can attempt to counteract this problem by having their team train (see, aren't I informative? I know soccor lingo) in oppressive heat in the time leading up to the game. But how does one simulate 130 degree heat? Is is possible to fit a soccor field within a microwave oven? Do you get portable heaters?
In any event, the end result of this type of thinking, first Russia then Qatar, is the outlandish concept of holding the tournament in a bottom less pit. Much like the famous Simpson's episode where Ozzie Smith falls down a bottomless pit, this scenario is not unrealistic. It would truly test the fortitude of international footballers to find out that they can only compete for the sport's greatest prize by willingly subjecting themselves to an eternity falling through blackness. At least they wouldn't need to air condition the stadiums.
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