I know you have seen and read about the Myles Garrett/Mason Rudolph incident in abundance by now. Much of what I have heard and read has fallen into one of three buckets:
- Condemnation of Garrett: What he did was criminal in any other setting and he is lucky he did not maim or even kill Rudolph by his actions.
- Attempted mind reading: What action(s) by either party caused this scene to spin so far out of the norm.
- Seeking a precedent: Rehashing the John Roseboro/Juan Marichal free-for-all from the 1960s
Rather than add to any of that, let me point you to a column written by Jerry Brewer in the Washington Post. It is a bit different than anything that falls into any of the categories above and it is extremely well written. Here is the link; I recommend you read it in its entirety.
Reacting to the revelations that the Houston Astros were stealing signals during the 2017 season – and post-season – Dwight Perry offered suggestions for remakes of some of the classic movies about baseball over the weekend in the Seattle Times:
“Cameras in the Outfield”
“Bang the Can Slowly”
To which, might I add:
- A Cabal of their Own
- Bullpen of Spies
- The Shame of the Astros
Another story that has gotten a ton of exposure recently involves the NCAA and Memphis’ prize recruit James Wiseman. The NCAA ruling is that Wiseman is ineligible because his family got $11,500 to help fund their move to Memphis while Wiseman was still in high school. If indeed that happened without any other circumstances surrounding the “transaction”, the NCAA’s ruling is certainly consistent with its rules governing recruitment of athletes. However, there is an aspect to this story that doesn’t ring true to me; someone needs to explain this to me:
- The allegation is that the $11,500 money-transfer came to the Wiseman family from Penny Hardaway, who – wait for it – is the head basketball coach at Memphis University.
So, riddle me this… If there is sufficient evidence of this improper transfer of money to support an NCAA finding that James Wiseman is ineligible, why is Penny Hardaway not doubly to blame here? After all, Hardaway is an adult and presumably recognizes the impropriety here. I simply do not understand this one…
In yesterday’s Washington Post, there was a report that the ESPN program, High Noon, “faces an uncertain future at the evolving network. High Noon is high brow discussion of sports issues; it is the antithesis of First Take; on an intellectual scale, it is 5 levels above Get Up! The hosts are Pablo S. Torre and Bomani Jones; you can listen to either of them in settings other than their own program and you will conclude immediately that they come at whatever the topic may be from a different starting point than most other commentators. Here is my analogy:
- Two of ESPN’s college basketball voices are Dick Vitale and Jay Bilas. How long do you have to listen to them to reach the conclusion that these guys are “different from each other”?
According to the report in the Post, both Torre and Jones have contract renewals coming up next year and of the quartet of sports “debate” shows offered by ESPN in the late afternoon, High Noon draws the smallest audience. [Aside: The other three programs in question here are “Highly Questionable”, “Around the Horn” and “Pardon the Interruption”.]
Let me go on record here saying that I think High Noon is second only to Pardon the Interruption in that quartet of ESPN shows and I would miss it if it were to disappear. For the record, I would not even notice if Highly Questionable went the way of My Mother the Car. Moreover, if the poohbahs at ESPN even begin to wonder if Pardon the Interruption belongs on their airwaves, that will mean that the clan consisting of the likes of Stephen A. Smith, Skip Bayless and Michael Irvin have won the day. Should that become evident, I would have to scale back my consumption of sports on TV and restrict it to watching live games and replays of live games.
Finally, here is a definition from The Official Dictionary of Sarcasm:
Despair: An utter loss of hope; a feeling of uselessness. Often brought on through contact with a greeter at Walmart.
But don’t get me wrong, I love sports………