Do you think Geno did it? It may depend on if you like him

Let me say right off the top that I hope the sexual harassment charges against Geno Auriemma aren't true.

For one, I don't think you ever want anyone to have done what he's accused of doing, but it's also because Mrs. Last Honest Sport and I are fans of him and his Connecticut women's basketball team.

When I first saw the story, I thought there was no way it could be true. Geno is a man who has coached young women for decades with no hint of scandal in how he treated them, whose top lieutenant (Chris Dailey) is a woman and who has been known for years as a friend and supporter of women coaches such as Sherri Coale, Muffet McGraw and the late Maggie Dixon, among others. He's also a married man with daughters.

("But what about his relationship with Pat Summitt?" you may be asking. I've always thought their feud -- which may be thawing -- was less about gender and more about being the big swinging whistle in women's college basketball ... a status he wanted and she wanted to keep.)

As you might expect, he has had his defenders since the news came out.

"Obviously, I don't have any idea what did or didn't happen,'' said former UConn All-American Rebecca Lobo, who has known Auriemma for more than 20 years. "But I've only ever known him to be someone of utmost character. And I think the world of him. He's always been of the highest character in every dealing that I've ever had with him or any dealing I've ever witnessed him having with somebody else."

In other precincts, there may be people whose dislike of him make them think that he absolutely could have done such a thing. For example, this. (The funny part is the admonition in the first two comments to stick to the story, as if they knew what was coming.) In the words of poster AirVol:

To me, it's hard to believe much of what people do to get themselves in trouble. Having said that, with everything we've heard or know about him, why would you have such a hard time believing it? I won't be surprised if others come forward with similar charges.

But none of us -- not Rebecca Lobo, not AirVol, not me -- knows what happened, and I've already pointed out, our opinions are easily determined by our biases. As Mrs. Last Honest Sport and I were talking about the case over dinner last night, the conversation turned to the Duke lacrosse case, where a lot of the assumption of guilt came because of the white, relatively well-off jocks appearing to be, to put it mildly, jerks.

However, being a jerk isn't criminal (phew!), and while I wouldn't have been shocked if the players had been guilty, it never did seem like there was any evidence, and the case, as we all know now, came apart.

In all likelihood, we'll see what evidence does or doesn't exist in Auriemma's case. But until then, we should probably heed the words of Mechelle Voepel.

There will be a lot of immediate speculation by people about which side they believe. These situations can be precarious for journalists, frankly. There are times when we can prudently state opinions. But there are other times when we need to let the system take its course as we try to sort out what happened.

I can say in nearly two decades of working as a journalist with Auriemma, he has never been anything but professional. In fairness, I do not interact with him in any other capacity. No one has ever told me, on or off the record, about him mistreating them in any way.

By the same token, I have not ever spoken with Hardwick. Her allegations raise very real, serious issues that women in the workforce still face in our society. Whether her case in particular actually has merit, though, must be adjudicated.

What NASCAR fans would write about today

Years ago, my parents got a magazine called NASCAR Scene, until they realized I read it more than they did, so they transferred the subscription to me until the magazine shut down a couple years ago, a victim of the lousy economy.

I used to read it cover to cover (Jeff Gluck, who I still follow, was one of the staff members), but the most entertaining part by far was the letters. Even my wife, who isn't a NASCAR fan, used to read them.

I'll be kind and say that many of the letter-writers weren't completely comfortable with things being different. My wife's and my favorite was the person who wrote, after NASCAR started providing funding to Jesse Jackson's Rainbow/PUSH Coalition, that NASCAR already had enough diversity. To which my wife responded, "What, because not all their drivers are Southern?"

Yeah, pretty much.

Most of the letters fell into one of the following categories:
1. National anthem singers/drivers not properly respecting the anthem.
2. Toyota being the worst thing ever.
3. NASCAR having the nerve to race somewhere other than the South.
4. The number of commercials during races.
5. "Fox should cover the whole season!" (in spite of all the helpful editor's notes that Fox doesn't pursue the whole season because of NFL commitments).
6. The merits/lack thereof of Dale Earnhardt Jr.
7. "Richard Petty and Dale Earnhardt did not win seven 'Nextel Cup' championships! It was Winston Cup then!"

If the magazine still existed, there's no doubt in my mind what else would be on that list, quite possibly the top of it.

Danica Patrick.

And it wouldn't be pretty -- she wasn't that good in Indy Car/doesn't belong in NASCAR/gets too much attention since she's not that good/has a ride that someone else deserves ... etc., etc.

The thing is, there's truth to some of it. She was a pretty good Indy Car driver, but not a great one, and she has a ton of work to do to get good in NASCAR. And she does a lot of attention because she's famous for her looks and her advertisements. (Go ahead and look. I don't mind. Just come back.)

But then again, no one gets more attention than Dale Earnhardt Jr. ... a guy who is going on four years without a win (I'm writing as the Coca Cola 600 is in progress, and I hope he wins) and has maybe seriously contended for a championship once.

Yet even if some of the criticism of Danica is valid, there seems to be a vitriol about it, that people seem to find her an affront. I can't imagine why.

I couldn't be ... could it? No....

This Red Sox disaster isn't just about the losing

Strange as this may seem coming from a Yankees fan, but I have a respect ... albeit highly grudging respect ... for what the Red Sox have done over the past several years.

Their biggest rival plays in a metropolitan area of 19 million people, while theirs is a little under 4.6 million, but ownership has tried to play at on something resembling the same financial field as the Yankees. Even during this time of caterwauling that the Red Sox owners are spending money on Liverpool and not the baseball team, they have the third-highest payroll in baseball. They've wasted a lot of it (see Crawford, Carl; Lackey, John; Matsuzaka, Daisuke), but they are spending it.

They've been able to do it by leveraging their fans, both the hardcore fans and the ones who have been lifelong fans since 2004 (or 2007), into paying high ticket prices at Fenway Park every night and watching on NESN. But with that, there has always been another half of the bargain.

The team must always be right.

Unlike the Yankees, there aren't enough people in the Boston area to justify losing fans, not if they want to keep pace with New York. Therefore, anytime something happens, particularly when players leave, the Sox and their friendly media need to make sure that it's not their fault. That's what leads to Johnny Damon being a Judas who can't throw, Jason Bay strikes out too much, Pedro Martinez's arm is going to fall off ... and of course the biggest of all ... Nomar Garciaparra is a cancer.

So after last September happened, the Red Sox needed to make sure the fans didn't turn on them, so they fired Terry Francona, even though they weren't going to have any "scapegoats." The only problem, they would have had you believe, was that Francona lost the clubhouse, but a new manager (who turned out to be Bobby Valentine) was going to make it all better.

Except it hasn't worked.

Of course, playing crappy hasn't helped, including losing the 100th anniversary game (where that "a-hole" Garciaparra got a huge hand, as I knew he would) and then blowing a 9-0 lead the next day.

And now we have the latest in "As Josh Beckett Turns."

The natives are getting restless, and it's more than just the booing. It has the potential to start hitting the team in the pocketbook, and soon, especially since we now know that the team has a sellout streak mainly because ... well, it says it does.

If attendance drops to the point where not even freebies will make a difference, that's a lot of money, and the difference between New York and Boston starts getting a lot bigger.

It's time to stop whining about safety

So it looks like we're going to find out what kind of brain injuries Junior Seau may have had, if any, and, as Dave Zirin puts it, the NFL "holds its breath" about the results, it's more than just the league hierarchy that needs to take a long, hard look at itself.

It would be nice if players like James Harrison who insist that hitting with their heads or hitting guys in the head is just the way they play the game could give it another thought now that one of their heroes is dead.

But if would also be nice if fans quit bellyaching over how the NFL has gone "soft" if it tries to actually, you know, keep players safe. Will Bunch wrote a terrific article the other day about the toll football takes on the body and the mind, and it contained this paragraph about the attitude among fans that needs to be overcome.

"Some folks say that these players knew what they were getting into, that they understood they were risking their future health for glory and riches in the present, and that there's nothing that can be done about this problem short of closing down the National Football League."

Which is easy for people like Jobe Morrison to say when they're commenting on stories like the Harrison one above. After all, it's not their lives.

"Harrison is grown up. It's the NFL that needs to grow up and understand fans want smashmouth football. Not pansy football. Not flag football. Football as we kno (sic) it is becoming too soft."

"players and the nfl need to UNDERSTAND this.... Once you sign the contract to step onto the field and play, you UNDERSTAND the consequences. You can't protect players from injuries, it is GOING to happen....... it's your risk. Don't like it? no one wants you around. LEAVE."

But some of the guys whose lives have been affected by the game understand what's at stake.

"Those who are saying the game is changing for the worse, well, they don't have a father who can't remember his name because of the game. I'm pretty sure if everybody had to wake with their dad not knowing his name, not knowing his kids' name, not being able to function at a normal rate after football, they would understand that the game needs to change. If it doesn't there are going to be more players, more great players, being affected by the things that we know of and aren't changing. That's not right."

Who was it who said those words?

One Junior Seau.

No, not Junior Seau

If you think a Yankee fan in Boston is rare, try be a San Diego Chargers fan anywhere on the East Coast.

Trust me. I'm both.

I was in Los Angeles in 2008 when the Chargers played the New England Patriots in the AFC Championship Game, and I loved that when I wore my jersey, people gave me the thumbs-up and talked to me like I was one of them, not some weirdo.

But it was nothing compared to when I went to San Diego last year, especially after I learned that Junior Seau's restaurant was a couple miles from our hotel. And the food was great. I walked out of there hoping that one would open in the Boston area.

And then came today, when one of my co-workers yelled over, "Hey guys, did you hear Junior Seau committed suicide?" As I sat there with my mouth open, it took a minute to sink in. My favorite player, a guy whose replica powder-blue jersey hangs in my closet, was dead ... 43 years old.

I wasn't exactly sad on a personal level. After all, I never met the man. I was just a fan, but he was part of my life ... the guy you couldn't take your eye off of, who gave you a reason to watch the Chargers whether they were good, bad or average.

Then the people in my office started buzzing over the news, but they all kept taking about him as a Patriots player. I wanted to yell, "NO! HE WASN'T A PATRIOTS PLAYER! YES, HE PLAYED FOR THEM, BUT HE WAS A CHARGER! HE'S ONE OF THE GREATEST CHARGERS EVER, AND HE WAS MY FAVORITE PLAYER BECAUSE OF IT!"

But I didn't, and eventually another thought came to mind, one I couldn't get rid of.

Junior Seau's not supposed to be dead at 43 years old.

Actually, no one's supposed to die at 43, but especially Junior Seau. He's supposed to count his money, surf, prepare his Canton speech and be the king of San Diego.

Instead, he's dead. There's lot of time to speculate about what led to his death, and we'll eventually find out something, but it's still hard to fathom.

Junior Seau is dead.

Every day as the enemy

In case you hadn't heard, there's a fairly significant anniversary tomorrow, and much like the Red Sox amazingly always seem to be home on one of Boston's two fake holidays (the other being the amazingly lucky circumstance that makes St. Patrick's Day a holiday) they miraculously get to play at Fenway on the 100th anniversary of the ballpark opening, against the very same team.

Well ... at least the current incarnation of that team, as the Yankees were the New York Highlanders back in those days.

So, for the next three days, the lifelong Red Sox fans since 2004 can put aside their disgust at what the team has become and focus on their one true enemy.

Yes, you read that right, I took a shot at the "wonderful," "passionate" Red Sox fans who probably think there have always been seats on top of the Green Monster and that Red Sox Nation is actually its own free and independent nation-state.

I did so knowing that many of them hold me, a Yankees fan who lives 15 miles from Boston, in the same minimum high regard.

To be fair, most of my interaction with Red Sox fans takes the form of friendly banter, since the ones I deal with most are friends. (One of my college roommates, who lives in the Boston area, loves to tell the story of how there wasn't a lot of tension between us because both the Yankees and Red Sox were terrible during that time. I then burst his bubble ... again ... by reminding him that he was a Cubs fan at the time.)

But every now and then, things happen

The main one is the "Yankee fans exist?" look. When I tell people, they get that look in their eyes like they're seeing something that they had heard rumors about, but didn't actually believe existed. They then have to get to understand this semi-mythical creature, so they have to ask questions. Although it may not be word-for-word correct, I once had a conversation very much like this with a co-worker:

"You're a Yankees fan?"
"Yup."
"Why?"
"Because I'm from New York and my entire family is Yankees fans, so I grew up as one."
"OK, I can respect that."

Now I know he was coming from the right place, so I couldn't get too miffed at him, and the co-worker who blithely suggested I just switch because that's what she (a New Jersey native) did is just lucky I liked her.


I also once had the "pleasure" of riding on a train coming out of Boston (where I was visiting a friend in the hospital) on the day Pedro threw Don Zimmer on the ground and hearing some idiot chirp into her phone about how awesome it was. Fortunately, I'm a peaceful man who does not believe in hitting women, because otherwise I would have been tempted to choke her.

Speaking of my generally peaceful nature, it's the only thing (that and him being about 70 years old) that kept me from slugging the most-obnoxious Red Sox fan I encountered, ironically, not in Boston, but in Hartford, CT.

My in-laws live outside Hartford, which is basically the demarcation line between Red Sox and Yankees territory, and we were peacefully eating lunch one afternoon when a "gentleman" walking by our table took notice of my Yankees Universe shirt.

(Nodding his head in the general direction of my shirt) "You're not a good person."
(Me, somewhat incredulous that I heard what I think I just heard) "Excuse me?"
"You're not a good person. You should root for the Red Sox."
"Ummm, great, thanks."

And he wasn't joking.

So forgive me if I don't get all caught up in the nostalgia of the event. Good for them and their fans, but I'm hoping to see them go home unhappy after every game.

Ozzie Guillen and the three dreaded words

Imagine, for a minute, that your job is to have opinions about sports. (Who knows? Maybe this blog has drawn the attention of someone whose job it is to have opinions about sports.)

Your job is to follow the news of the day, learn about it, talk to people who can increase your understanding of it, all in preparation for the time when you have to provide your views on a big story ... something like Ozzie Guillen saying he "loves" Fidel Castro.

But as you're getting ready, three words keep crossing your mind.

No, not "I love Castro."

I don't know.

You don't know if what he said merits firing or not. Pretty much everyone knows that praising Hitler is an absolute no-no (and it should be), but does Castro fall into that category? What Guillen said was stupid, profoundly stupid, and if he didn't mean it that way, he should have been more careful about his words, but if he didn't work in Miami, would we all care? After all, he said something like this before, along with a few other things.

Yet even as you struggle with your indecision, Steve Rushin's words rattle around your brain.

It is a guiding principle of most columns, presidential debates, political ads, bumper stickers, comment sections and cable news punditry that the only thing in the middle of the road is roadkill. So say what's on your mind, even if your mind has nothing to say. This makes your mouth a ventriloquist's dummy for your brain, but so what? It will also make your call-in radio show -- or your call to a call-in radio show -- sing.

I haven't written anything about Guillen because I don't know what to think beyond that saying anything nice about Castro isn't a good idea, especially in Miami. But I have the luxury of this blog being a hobby. I don't have to post about anything and everything. I can post when I feel like I have something to say.

My gut tells me Ozzie shouldn't go, that the suspension is enough, especially if he really tries to change his ways and was sincere in his apology. But then again, I'm not Cuban, and since I don't claim any particular nationality (I'm your basic boring white guy of generic European heritage), there's nothing anyone can say about it that offends me.

However, even though I basically don't think Ozzie should be fired, I did think Don Imus should have been fired over what he said about the Rutgers women's basketball team a few years ago. I wondered why it took so long, given his history, but my wife has been wondering why Ozzie basically got a slap on the wrist for what he said about Jay Mariotti. 

It's a good point, actually.

At the end of the day, there aren't too many rules about how we should react to situations like this, other than, again, no praising Hitler, and racism probably isn't a good idea, either. As for sexism and homophobia ... ahhh, it depends. (I'm against both, but in a lot of circles, the go-to insult is to call a man a woman or a woman a man ... or both at the same time.)

Is it as simple as whether we like or dislike someone? After all, remember the founding principle of this blog.

Not everyone agrees on the rules, but everyone has to have an opinion, even though ...

We don't know.