I wonder what Jay Cutler is thinking right now.
In case you missed it, Robert Griffin III hurt his knee pretty badly Sunday in the Washington Redskins' loss to the Seattle Seahawks. I didn't actually see the injury when it happened, but I realized something was going on when my Twitter blew up, largely to say Redskins coach Mike Shanahan should, at a minimum, be fired for leaving a hobbling Griffin in the game. (Dave Zirin's Twitter is a good example, and he also calls Redskins owner Dan Snyder to task for the condition of the field.)
But I want to know what Cutler is thinking because it was a little over a year ago when he did come out of a Chicago Bears playoff game with what turned out to be a torn MCL ... and was ripped for it. I must admit that I wasn't impressed at the time, and only have the barest of excuse that I didn't realize how hurt he was at the time.
And what's Philip Rivers' take on the whole thing? He played in a playoff game for the San Diego Chargers in 2008 with an ACL injury and after surgery the previous Monday that he kept a secret. I don't recall people saying Chargers coach Norv Turner should have been fired for possibly ruining his young quarterback's career.
Now I'd like to think that the concern over RGIII's injury is due to a greater understanding of what football players put themselves through to entertain us, part of an evolution that accelerated rapidly after Junior Seau's suicide and has continued to pick up steam ever since, and the realization that there are instances when players need to be protected from themselves by coaches or medical staff.
But it's when I start thinking that way that my good friend Cy Nical, who basically assumes the worst in everyone and everything, shows up to ask if the concern over RGIII is due to his being an extraordinary talent and an engaging, magnetic, popular personality as opposed to Cutler and Rivers, who people don't really like that much.
I hope Cy's wrong, but he's right more often than I (or perhaps even he) would like to admit.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Lance and Oprah ... yawn
In April of 1997, Ellen Degeneres came out as being gay ... which pretty much everyone knew already.
What caused me to think of this long-ago, completely unsurprising story? The news that Lance Armstrong would be talking to Oprah Winfrey on OWN "in his first no-holds-barred interview," which will air Jan. 17 from 9 to 10:30 p.m. Eastern.
If he continues to deny that he took drugs, even after being stripped of his Tour de France titles, it's something that he has already said hundreds, maybe thousands of times.
If he finally admits he did drugs, he's acknowledging something that everyone already knew -- even most of the dead-enders have finally come around -- just like when Ellen Degeneres came out.
Some people have made their peace with Armstrong because "everyone did it" or "he has done so much good" or "I like him." I've already made my thoughts on this line of reasoning known, and I've long thought of him not just as a cheater (it was either that or Superman, given that he had cancer that doctors thought would kill him but came back to dominate a sport where everyone else was doping), but an outwardly arrogant jerk.
But however people feel about Armstrong, one interview with Oprah isn't likely to change that.
What caused me to think of this long-ago, completely unsurprising story? The news that Lance Armstrong would be talking to Oprah Winfrey on OWN "in his first no-holds-barred interview," which will air Jan. 17 from 9 to 10:30 p.m. Eastern.
"Armstrong will address the alleged doping scandal, years of accusations of cheating, and charges of lying about the use of performance-enhancing drugs throughout his storied cycling career."Of course, the drug question is the only remotely interesting part of the interview, but really, how interesting is it?
If he continues to deny that he took drugs, even after being stripped of his Tour de France titles, it's something that he has already said hundreds, maybe thousands of times.
If he finally admits he did drugs, he's acknowledging something that everyone already knew -- even most of the dead-enders have finally come around -- just like when Ellen Degeneres came out.
Some people have made their peace with Armstrong because "everyone did it" or "he has done so much good" or "I like him." I've already made my thoughts on this line of reasoning known, and I've long thought of him not just as a cheater (it was either that or Superman, given that he had cancer that doctors thought would kill him but came back to dominate a sport where everyone else was doping), but an outwardly arrogant jerk.
But however people feel about Armstrong, one interview with Oprah isn't likely to change that.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
The curious case of the double tickets
If you've gone to any decent number of sporting events, you've probably had this conversation at least once:
One of us was going to realize we had the wrong row, section or seat -- like about 10 minutes later in our section because someone misread a G for a Q -- and there would be a "sorry about that," a slightly embarrassed smile and everyone would end up where they belonged.
Except that didn't happen. We both had the exact same seats.
Mrs. Last Honest bought me the tickets for Christmas on StubHub. (What would have made this whole exercise even crazier is if I had bought her tickets to the same game for Christmas, which I was contemplating.) The other husband in this little adventure got them in his stocking for Christmas from his daughter. He didn't know how she had gotten them, but given they were identical to ours except ours were in color and his were in black and white (which actually is important later), I knew she had gotten them the same way.
Mrs. Last Honest and I got to the game first, so when I was chatting with the guy who would soon become my new best friend for the next little while, he said that when they scanned his tickets, they told him those seats had already been scanned, but when he went to the box office to inquire what was going on, they let him in anyway.
Since lap-sitting was clearly out of the question, the two of us set off to solve the problem, first enlisting help of arena staff, who sent us to a manager. The manager was convinced he had the solution ... that the black-and-white tickets clearly had to be a photocopy. Yup, aside from the complete lack of logic of such a conspiracy on our parts, there apparently was no consideration given to the possibility of us having a color printer and them having one that only printed in black and white.
So it was off to the box office we went, where ... they were utterly convinced his tickets were a photocopy.
Seriously.
I'm sure for the outside observer, there would have been considerable comedic value in watching us repeatedly (as in we had to do it more than once) tell the people in the box office that we had not met until just a few minutes ago. Fortunately, we got through to them (and I don't mean to portray all the Gampel staff as dunces ... they were actually very friendly throughout), and they found another couple tickets for our friends a few rows in front of us, so except for the result of the game, everyone lived happily ever after.
Well, except for maybe one person ...
Remember a few paragraphs back when I mentioned that, other than the color, the two sets of tickets were identical? That even extends to a name and account number on the printed ticket, so we have a pretty decent idea of who sold the same tickets twice. Now, it may have been an honest mistake -- that'll be up to UConn and StubHub to find out after we inform them -- but if two season tickets at Gampel are suddenly available, you'll know why.
"You're in our seats."Mrs. Last Honest and I had one of these conversations today at Gampel Pavilion before the UConn-Notre Dame women's basketball game today (Notre Dame 73, UConn 72 ...you don't need a three-pointer Kaleena! ... we should all want to be Kelly Faris when we grow up), and there was no reason to believe it wasn't going to end up like 99.99 percent of these conversations do.
"No we're not. These are our seats."
"No ... this is ..." followed by the section, seat and row.
"OK, let me check ..."
One of us was going to realize we had the wrong row, section or seat -- like about 10 minutes later in our section because someone misread a G for a Q -- and there would be a "sorry about that," a slightly embarrassed smile and everyone would end up where they belonged.
Except that didn't happen. We both had the exact same seats.
Mrs. Last Honest bought me the tickets for Christmas on StubHub. (What would have made this whole exercise even crazier is if I had bought her tickets to the same game for Christmas, which I was contemplating.) The other husband in this little adventure got them in his stocking for Christmas from his daughter. He didn't know how she had gotten them, but given they were identical to ours except ours were in color and his were in black and white (which actually is important later), I knew she had gotten them the same way.
Mrs. Last Honest and I got to the game first, so when I was chatting with the guy who would soon become my new best friend for the next little while, he said that when they scanned his tickets, they told him those seats had already been scanned, but when he went to the box office to inquire what was going on, they let him in anyway.
Since lap-sitting was clearly out of the question, the two of us set off to solve the problem, first enlisting help of arena staff, who sent us to a manager. The manager was convinced he had the solution ... that the black-and-white tickets clearly had to be a photocopy. Yup, aside from the complete lack of logic of such a conspiracy on our parts, there apparently was no consideration given to the possibility of us having a color printer and them having one that only printed in black and white.
So it was off to the box office we went, where ... they were utterly convinced his tickets were a photocopy.
Seriously.
I'm sure for the outside observer, there would have been considerable comedic value in watching us repeatedly (as in we had to do it more than once) tell the people in the box office that we had not met until just a few minutes ago. Fortunately, we got through to them (and I don't mean to portray all the Gampel staff as dunces ... they were actually very friendly throughout), and they found another couple tickets for our friends a few rows in front of us, so except for the result of the game, everyone lived happily ever after.
Well, except for maybe one person ...
Remember a few paragraphs back when I mentioned that, other than the color, the two sets of tickets were identical? That even extends to a name and account number on the printed ticket, so we have a pretty decent idea of who sold the same tickets twice. Now, it may have been an honest mistake -- that'll be up to UConn and StubHub to find out after we inform them -- but if two season tickets at Gampel are suddenly available, you'll know why.
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