Jon Reed Goes Off On... bad sports


Tuesday, March, 25 2008

Verizon Mobile Sports: Disrupting a Dinner Date Near You

Verizon is running a clever series of commercials right now for its ESPN-driven sports update service, where you can get all kinds of sports scores and highlights right on your cell phone. On the surface, it seems cool for the so-called sports ďnutĒ - if you want to get your sports updates wherever you are, why not give it a try? Itís the backstory that I find both amusing and a little repugnant. The amusing part? ESPN first tried to launch this service on its own, with its own phones and service, and suffered a rare, humiliating commercial failure. Thereís definitely something funny about seeing ESPNís marketing turd all shiny and new with Verizonís name and logo trying to cover up the warmed-over smell.

The second aspect, the repugnant part, comes into play with the idea that itís somehow cool or appropriate to sneak peeks at your scores and highlights in the midst of all kind of formal occasions - in the case of the two commercials Iíve seen, company meetings and baby showers. It may seem harmless to promote such behavior, but anyone who has ever tried to give a presentation while some attention-deficit-disorder douchebag pounds text messages to vague social prospects knows that this kind of technology is nibbling away at the last remaining social conventions. I know this: if I see some glory days fraternity brother cheering when Alex Rodriguez manages to luck into a clutch hit in the middle of a talk I am giving, Iím gonna step away from my PowerPoint and pound his phone into shrapnel.

Itís great to have the convenience of updates, but is it too old-fashioned to wonder whether this makes us better human beings? If you canít wait till you get home to find out whether the Sox left a runner stranded on third in the sixth, then you probably have a personality defect. The constant barrage of incoming information makes us terrible listeners, lacking focus for the people and projects that deserve our time and attention.

I watch and listen to a lot of sports, and if I donít see a need for such a service in my life, it makes me wonder about the headspace of the people Verizon is marketing to. Of course, this problem is hardly limited to sports. Iíve been out on social occasions where someone got involved with a text message in the middle of a one-on-one conversation with me, without even bothering to excuse themselves or apologize. I guess itís possible that I am such a terrible conversationalist that people are doing this out of social desperation, but Iím going to hold onto the illusion that itís worth it to listen to me.

At any rate, whether I am worthy of focused conversation is irrelevant. What is relevant is that Iím not going to put up with it. The first person who checks their Verizon score update in the middle of a dinner date with me gets to contend with the bill all by themselves. They can watch the highlights all they want while I drive off in search of someone who still prefers human contact to constant childish stimulation.


Categories: bad sports mocking ads
posted on Tuesday, March, 25 2008 by Jon Reed

Thursday, March, 06 2008

Congress Strikes Out on Clemens Hearing

A few readers have asked for my take on Roger Clemens. I have held off because my rule is that I try not to weigh in unless I have something to contribute that has not been added before. Itís a pretty stern test - after all, how many things in this world are truly original - but at least I try to avoid just adding to the noise.

With Clemens, it was hard not to pile on. Obviously Brian McNamee is not someone to go on a workout regimen with, and I think heís coated with something that wouldnít wash off easily in the shower, but that aside, Roger Clemens is clearly a cheater and a liar, and more objectionably, a bullying serial-lying cover up artist brandishing his power to talk down to us and attempt to shape his media message with impunity, and anyone who doesnít realize this is either an apologist, a disinterested non-sports fan, or in serious denial.

But thatís not the point. Clemens is becoming like OJ: a polarizing topic that everyone has made up their minds up on. Further evidence is not likely to sway anyone; the only way to win this kind of argument is to put your fist in someoneís face, and then of course you have invalidated the intellectual integrity of your own position.

But I was disgusted by a different aspect of this matter. I am hardly the first person to comment on this, probably I am more like the last. But what I found disheartening was how the entire Congressional hearing devoted broke down along party lines. All the Republicans fell in line as McNamee-bashers, and all the Democrats were Clemens skeptics.

Of course, one of the things that the Republicans cited to justify their view of McNamee-as-liar was the much-contested Canseco party, an aspect of McNameeís testimony that looks to be well on its way towards total vindication. But nevermind that, as long as they were able to give McNamee a huge on-camera beat down. One Republican, Mark Souder, gave somewhat of a balanced view, but that was it for independent thinking.

The hearing made more fascinating television, but it was devastating as well. After all, if our leaders canít demonstrate an ability to think for themselves and take their own stands, even when it goes against party lines, then how can we possibly solve the more pressing matters of the day? Is anyone in Washington addressing real problems, or are we just marching in lockstep party lines, out of deference to party leaders and their agendas? And if itís the latter, is the name of that political system ďdemocracy,Ē or should we be calling it something else?

If the job of such a hearing is to get to the truth, then there was somewhat of a positive late breaking development recently, when the chair of the committee, Henry Waxman (Democrat) and the ranking Republican, Tom Davis, sent a letter to the Department of Justice recommending that Roger Clemens be further investigated for the possibility of perjury. All the Republican blowhards who implied the committee was deadlocked because Clemens and McNamee had both bastardized the truth are now lined up in unity behind McNameeís obviously greater credibility.

McNameeís lawyers said that the committee owed him an apology. Iím not sure if they owe McNamee much of anything, but they do owe the American people an apology.

To be fair, some of the information cited in the letter to the DOJ (such as additional documentation that Clemens was indeed at Jose Cansecoís party that day) came out after the fact, but even the willingness to assign such significance to the party on the day of the hearing was a result of the Republican members of the committee willingly swallowing the agenda of Clemensí lawyers, who wanted to poke holes in the credibility of McNameeís testimony by nibbling on the edges of a very solid center.

It was disgusting how the Republicans on the committee ignored decency, not to mention evidence, to rip into McNamee. Blustering Dan Burton (a spousal cheater who had no problem going after Clinton for the same during his impeachment hearing) had no qualms raking McNamee over some very hot and hypothetical coals, in the process overlooking all the legal history of how drug dealers and those caught in similar schemes almost always lie at first before the full truth comes out and they realize they canít save themselves unless they offer up their friends on a platter.

Dan Burton, walk down the street to the DEA and spend a few hours there. Youíll learn that the lying thug who eventually comes clean to save his own skin is a very common occurrence. But Burton wasnít the only offender, just the loudest one. Tom Davis, Republican co-chair himself, pitched nice, slow softballs over the plate to Clemens, including casting doubt on the nanny who said that Clemens was at Jose Cansecoís house that day, by asking Clemens, basically, ďshe doesnít have very good English, now, I hear,Ē to which Clemens basically said, ďno sir, she doesnít.Ē

We find out later that the nannyís English is fluent, albeit with an accent. But since her testimony puts big cracks in Clemensí account, we might as well throw her under the bus with Clemensí mother, wife, and anyone who ever had the misfortune of being around Roger when he was trying to shovel dirt on the truth. Bottom line?

I think these guys lined up against McNamee not just because Clemens had done a lot of pre-hearing palm-pressing that surely implied future Republican party donorship, but because they clearly donít like the idea that some McNamee clone could come crawling out of a gutter from their own lives and bring them down with a bunch of old needles (or their equivalent) and testimony that bends but somehow doesnít break.

And donít think that because the Republicans gave in once the cameras were off and went along with the evidence instead of their agendas that I give the Democrats a pass either. It was just as disappointing to see the Democrats lining up on one side of the ideological aisle as seeing the Republicans lining up on the other. You couldnít help but get the impression that none of our nationís leaders had the ability to perceive the issues without utter submission to their own partyís roadmap.

Clemens has made his own bed, and the bold nature of his denials have put him in water that should become hotter than anything Barry Bonds has felt. His insistence on appearing in such a hearing and thus exposing himself to perjury charges is something that his ill-conceived lawyers should have steered him away from. But no amount of spin can save them now. I just hope that the biggest story of that ill-conceived hearing - the intractable divisions that gridlock our countryís elected officials - does not go unnoticed by the voters who head to the polls in the elections to come.


Categories: bad sports
posted on Thursday, March, 06 2008 by Jon Reed

Monday, February, 04 2008

The Imperfection of the Patriots

I wanted to write about something else tonight, and now I have to write about the Patriots. Itís probably not worth it; nothing I write will change the way the Giants not only ripped the Patsí hearts out, but mine as well. To deny it because sports should never mean that much would be dishonest; to deny it because we donít want to afford Giants fans the satisfaction would be cowardly.

Yes, that one hurt. To borrow from the Bill Simmons approach to classifying these matters, in the pantheon of Boston sports losses, only the 2003 ALCS loss hurt more. Thatís because we knew we had the better team that night; Grady Little had three chances to yank Pedro and change his head-scratching legacy, and yet he sat on his hands instead. Then Tim Wakefield, of all the loyal soldiers, gets saddled with a brutal loss he never deserved.

Hereís the current predicament: the Sox more than made up for that sting the very next year, topping the Yanks after going down 0-3 and improbably winning it all. But this Pats loss is going to ache forever. Iím not sure it will hurt less when Iím 80. No amount of future championships will ever take away from the glorious precipice of that perfect 19-0 season, peering into football immortality, and then being smacked backwards by Justin Tuck and Michael Strahan.

I wonít read the papers for a while now; the only sports journalist I can read in this state is Bill Simmons; heís the only one who can possibly put something in this hollowed out center that will stick. The continued Spygate revelations are only going to twist the knife further, casting doubts, if not to the legitimacy of previous Super Bowl wins, than at least to the question of how the Patriots define sportsmanship. The wins canít be taken away, but Spygate teaches us that they can certainly be reframed in our emotional landscape.

So is it better to have made it 18-0 and then lost? Is the agony of the Pats fan worse than say, the Seahawks fan, or the Bears fan, or even the Colts fan? Perhaps only die hard Buffalo Bills fans, veterans of endurance with four Super Bowl losses in a row behind them, can answer that. Iím not sure I have the answer right now. The emotional parallel is not unlike making it to your wedding but finding yourself alone at the alter. Would it have been better to have never envisioned such a grand stage? Thatís a question better answered when the humiliation of having a ring and no finger to put it on fades a little bit.

But make no mistake: the Giants were the better team today on both sides of the ball. Iím not sure if the Giants wanted it more, though the way they seemed to come up with all the fumbles implied as much. Had the Pats managed to come back and win this game, it would have been their biggest theft of all. They have won some miraculous games in the Brady era - games that any other team would have lost, but this time, it was not to be. Iím not sure itís fair to say that Eli Manning outplayed Tom Brady, but itís certainly fair to say that today was more about the legend of Eli Manning than the legend of Tom Brady.

Brady is already amongst the top twelve quarterbacks of all time, give or take, and nothing his suddenly porous offensive line allowed by them today changes that. But the fact is that Tom Brady had a chance to crop the team picture of the best quarterbacks of all time to include him and four others max, and he didnít. The legend of Tom Brady is not done, but the next chapter will have to wait.

The loss to the Colts last year was a bitter pill as well, especially given that the Colts got to play the Bears and the outmatched Rex Grossman to get their rings. The Pats had a comparatively tougher hill to climb. They did not get there, and the loss to the Colts last year - yes, the one that took me weeks to get over - seems like a mere bee sting compared to this wallop.

The worst thing about sports is that the more you allow sports into the center of your life, the more losing hurts. Those who have insulated themselves by building a family life and a rewarding career are in much better shape than those who find their moments of redemption on Sunday afternoons. Without minimizing all I still hope to accomplish, I fall more into the latter category.

I am reeling in my mind, looking for some place untouched by this ridiculousness, and I find nothing. No, I want to withdraw, avoiding the pundits and their ďI told you sosĒ and most of all, righteous New York fans whose unexpected day of vindication gives them more barstool ammunition than any Boston fan wants them to have.

Sports has meaning on many levels. On sunnier days, I like to think that I use sports as a way to learn about life, about how to rise to the occasion when the stakes are highest, about how to lead in the face of adversity, about how to embrace my role as part of a team.

But tonight Iím thinking about sports as a failed means of escape. The Patriotsí impossible pursuit of perfection was a reminder that all things are possible. But their Super Bowl loss had an air of inevitability to it also, as if to remind us that sustained perfection is more than this life has to offer.

To see my team make it so far, only to get their hearts broken on the edge of the biggest prize, well, that hits a little too close to home. Yes, that is my reality, and sports is my escape. But tonight, there was no escape, and tomorrow morning, as usual, I will wake with a heavy heart.

Tom Bradyís heart will be a little more like mine tomorrow. Iím not sure thatís a good thing. I liked him more as the light-hearted conductor of improbable victories, preserved from the most devastating consequences of pursuing your dreams to the fullest. But sports are not about granting fantasies; you have to earn them.

The football gods are the cruelest in all of sports. When they smile in your favor, nothing feels so sweet. But that is not always the case, and on the day after, we have to get up just the same. I need another reason to wake up tomorrow. I sure hope I can find it.


Categories: bad sports
posted on Monday, February, 04 2008 by Jon Reed

Thursday, December, 06 2007

ESPN Turns up the Volume in the Company Store

Deep in the twisted bowels of the history of capitalism lies the phenomenon of ďthe company store.Ē The company store was pretty nice business for the owners. You put people up in a nice little shanty town, made sure they were pretty far away from cheap supplies, and you charged them out the nose for basic household items.

ESPN has become a sort of company store when it comes to sports news and highlights. At one point, CNNSI was trying to give it a go on television, but at this point, the biggest competition to ESPNís SportsCenter is ESPNís own ESPN News. At one point, ESPN used to make sure that ESPN News was a real SportsCenter alternative, free of SportsCenter gimmicks like the Budweiser Hot Seat. If you wanted to get Stuart-Scott-and-Kenny-Mayne free highlights, you had the option. And if you wanted to listen to highlights without a junk music soundtrack behind you, you had that choice.

But no longer. Now, if you watch highlights on ESPN News, or for that matter, any of ESPNís ďsister channels,Ē you also get to listen to abysmal sub-classic rock jingles that ESPN purchased in 1995 and has been playing over and over ever since. I donít have the statistics handy, but Iím certain you reach a point where if youíve heard the same musical jingle often enough, it becomes a permanent part of your brain. The frightening implication? ESPN not only owns cable sports, it also owns a growing percentage of my cranium.

After a half hour of ESPN News, you turn off the TV with a hundred junkyard Joe Satriani wannabe riffs ringing through your head. It really bothers me that I have to listen to this tuneless craprock whenever I get my sports highlights because ESPN isnít willing to let the highlights speak for themselves or provide a noise-pollution-free alternative.

Of course, ESPN is not the only network that cannot seem to put sports on TV without running some kind of musical equivalent of puke behind it. Just check out an Orlando Magic basketball game, and listen to all the lowest common denominator sounds they feel they have to pipe through the loudspeakers during the game itself in order to keep a captive audience who has already paid way too much for tickets interested.

The latest trend is to actually play these ďrock is deadĒ songs of the damned while commentators are pontificating. Thatís a really nice compliment: weíre glad to have you on our show, but weíre worried that our listeners will channel surf unless we play this soulless bombast in the background while you are talking.

Scratching underneath this trend of musical abuse, what we conclude is that ESPN and other networks are too insecure about their product to let the action on the field, or in the highlights package, speak for itself.

But wait, I know what youíre thinking: paying for real quality songs would be too expensive, so whatís the alternative to these mud rock jingles from hell? Well hereís one for you: what if ESPN had their own house band? They could do the highlights while a jazz band played in the background. Talk about a good cause: musicians struggling to make ends meet would have the option to go to work for the Worldwide Leader and play cool jams to a live audience. Everyone wins - ESPN gets the music it evidently requires to cater to an attention deficit disorder generation, and musicians get to quit their day jobs in restaurant dishrooms and prevent brains like mine from filling up with corporate sewage.

I donít expect any royalties from this brilliant idea, nor do I expect it to ever happen. But a guy can dream. In the meantime, thereís one thing ESPN canít take away from me: the mute button on my remote control.


Categories: bad sports
posted on Thursday, December, 06 2007 by

Saturday, November, 24 2007

Gregg Easterbrook Hates the Pats and I Hate Gregg Easterbrook

The goal of sports journalism is no different than any other form of journalism: be as entertaining as possible while retaining a commitment to an exacting standard of fairness. Itís not always easy to entertain and be fair to your subjects at the same time. Most of the worst sports commentary occurs when writers give into their desire to empty all their arrows by entertaining instead of striving for journalistic objectivity. Gregg Easterbrook, columnist of ESPN.comís Page 2, has been doing quite a lot of entertaining at the expense of fairness lately, and weíll get to him momentarily.

But first, I want to hit on a broader point about journalism and objectivity. Historically, there has been a faulty notion in journalism that you can be totally objective in your presentation of the news. We now know that this is impossible, but unfortunately, when objectivity was discredited, the end result was sometimes the reverse: an abandonment of the very idea of fairness - sloppy, opinionated, and poorly-informed work that was a disservice to readers.

As a writer, I continue to aspire to the high bar of fairness. Itís a standard I know I can never consistently achieve, but I aspire to it nevertheless. One way to do that is by acknowledging your own subjectivity. By striving to understand and disclose your own biases, you have the best chance of overcoming them while alerting the reader to where your allegiances stand. I believe that the best journalists achieve something close to objectivity by fessing up to their own subjectivity and then, in the process of defining the parameters of that subjectivity, they hopefully overcome it.

Interestingly enough, in some quarters, there is still an infatuation with the notion that an old-fashioned ďobjectivityĒ is possible. Usually, those who believe this are incredibly intelligent people who wrongfully assume that their vast intellect allows them to see all sides of an issue and relay it better than those with lesser intellects. I believe that this is the affliction the aforementioned Gregg Easterbrook is suffering from.

Gregg is a gifted and wide-ranging intellectual. He knows more about football, and for that matter, many other subjects, than I do. He is, in short, brilliant. But in his brilliance, he can also run circles around himself, and fall victim to the notion that he has no base instincts and no petty hatreds of his own to overcome.

But Gregg certainly does. Gregg, you see, is a closet Patriots hater and self-appointed accomplishment diminisher, and as a huge Patriots fan, I am in a position to have an especially strong reaction to his idiocy. It doesnít bother me that Gregg has demonized the Patriots. What does bother me is that he has never had the guts to admit that he has an agenda to undermine the team and its accomplishments. In fairness, Gregg has raised some important points about the extent of the so-called Spygate controversy and some of the related issues the NFL has swept under the rug.

Unfortunately, agendas that are not acknowledged lead to many falsehoods and an unclear picture. Gregg worships at the altar of the Indianapolis Colts, so as a result, he is unable to see that every team has good and bad individuals on it, and in fact, that most individuals struggle with moral complexities within themselves. He thinks Peyton Manning is a prince sent to this earth to play all-American football, whereas I tend to see Peyton in a more nuanced way, as a great leader who can get a little bitchy when things donít go his way, as a great comedic actor (if Saturday Night Live was any indication) who doesnít mind making fun of himself, but who also doesnít mind being a corporate whore for any oversized check with his name on it either.

But the nut that is really stuck in my gum right now has to do with Greggís last column, where he diminished Tom Bradyís exceptional season by asserting that Joey ďwhy canít I get it together?Ē Harrington would be a star also if he was playing behind New Englandís offensive line. Nevermind that a football lifer like John Madden says that Tom Brady is playing the quarterback position as well as itís every been played. It goes without saying that Gregg knows a lot less about football than John Madden. That said, Gregg still has a right to his opinion, but putting Tom Brady and Joey Harrington in the same sentence is not about forming a flawed opinion, itís about being a hater with a big old ax to grind. Keep on hating, Gregg. I hope that the team you root for most winds up with Joey Harrington shortly.

Iím not the first to criticize Easterbrookís pretentious and irresponsible columns. He has received a huge amount of negative feedback, to the point that ESPN ombudsman had to take the unprecedented step of rebuking him two months in a row for his borderline irresponsible journalism. I do give Gregg a slight amount of credit for apologizing for his most extreme representation of the Colts as Angels and the Pats as Satan, but his Harrington broadside occurred after that, so he has not learned his own self-taught lessons.

I donít care that Gregg feels an intense need to demonize, dismiss or diminish the Patriots. But it bothers me greatly that the tries to do it in the guise of journalistic objectivity, as if he is the only one who sees that the Patriots have a great offensive line and therefore Joey Harrington and Tom Brady can be mentioned in the same sentence. Actually, Gregg, the thought had occurred to me too, but it was such an overwhelmingly stupid thought that I quickly dismissed it instead of featuring it in my column and patting myself on the back for being a contrarian.

Gregg is not alone in his absurdity. On all kinds of subjects, in all kinds of forums, so-called ďjournalistsĒ are aggressively pursuing their agendas without openly acknowledging the roots of their frustrations and the passion of their subjectivity. Two examples from the opposite side of the political spectrum: the grandstanding Michael Moore and the insufferable George Will. This is not a Republican or Democratic thing - itís an arrogance thing, and itís insulting to those of us who want to form our own conclusions based on well-thought insights and open disclosure.

So, Iíll conclude this blog entry by acknowledging the obvious: yes, I am envious of Easterbrookís platform and the likely reality that he is financially well off enough that he doesnít have to do his writing when his eyes are burning up after an all-nighter of hard work to pay for the privilege to self-publish. Iíll leave it to readers to decide if my subjectivity invalidates my opinions. But Iíd like to think that the fact that I am willing to completely own the ugly side of what makes me tick lends more credibility, not less, to the rest of my perspective. Presenting your subjectivity has a way of disarming it. I wish Gregg Easterbrook would do the same, but I doubt he will be able to save his soul in this manner. Heís too attached to his masturbatory intellectual virtuosity.

Gregg, I hope the Pats go 19-0. I hope the next time you are dreaming, you are running long for a pass with the Super Bowl on the line, and Joey Harrington overthrows you. Then we cut to a commercial, and Peyton Manning tries to sell you a range of products and services until the horror of your own hypocrisy wakes you like a screaming baby.


Categories: bad sports
posted on Saturday, November, 24 2007 by Jon Reed

Monday, October, 22 2007

Manny Doesnít Care if He Wins or Loses? Maybe We Shouldnít Either

Manny Ramirez has been taking a lot of flack for some comments he made before Game 5 of the ALCS, potentially an elimination game for the Red Sox. Basically, Ramirez had the audacity to say, and Iím paraphrasing, ďI donít care if we lose - thereís always next year.Ē Many so-called ďfansĒ were deeply offended, thinking this reflected a lack of appropriate passion for winning with a relaxing season of miniature golf, dreadlock styling and island vacations waiting right around Mannyís corner.

I had the opposite reaction: I was kind of amazed that fans could be so absurdly righteous. Letís start with just the baseball part of it: first, at the time Manny said it, he was enjoying a heck of a postseason, and had recently broken the all-time record for postseason home runs. Maybe itís just me, but I feel like you cut some slack to someone who runs his mouth while heís delivering on the field. But beyond that, hereís the kicker: what indignant fans donít realize is that the same loosey-goosey attitude that came across in Mannyís ďalways next yearĒ quip is the reason he bats so well at the plate.Weíve seen what can happen to a wound-too-tight hitter (Renteria, Drew, Lugo, etc) in the pressurized Fenway environment. None of that gets to Manny. The same loose detachment that fans despise is the same mentality that got his team a ring and got Bill Buckner out of harmís way.

But beyond the baseball common sense, this points to a larger issue: is it possible to care about sports, to love sports, to support our teams, without deriving most of our self-esteem from their achievements? Mannyís fundamentally right - there is next year. The same fans who are bitter about Mannyís comments are the ones yelling in my ear right now at the bar, crying about every double play Julio Lugo grounds into as if it has some kind of impact on the future of the free world or their ability to make their next mortgage payment. Manny talks loose because he plays loose, and we should follow his example, caring about what we do, but not to the point where it leads to a bitter obsession. I know that my life is far from perfect, in fact it is like a chaotic and half-finished construction site. But the one thing I can say in my defense is that I donít channel my existential frustrations into a bout of rage against the greatest right handed hitter of his generation besides Alex Rodriguez. Yep, thatís Manny. Manny being Manny can be a pain, but as it turns out, heís not such a bad player.

To be fair, Manny probably shouldnít be celebrating a home run that closes the gap to 7 to 3 in a tough loss. I donít have an issue with the criticism that has come his way over that kind of antic. But to give Manny a hard time for saying that heís not going to lie down in the Ted Williams tunnel if the Sox lose, well, more than a few fans could learn from his example.


Categories: bad sports
posted on Monday, October, 22 2007 by Jon Reed

Thursday, July, 26 2007

Emmitt Smith - Hall of Fame Football Player, In-Over-His-Head "Analyst"

One of the headaches of the Internet Age: the blogosphere has reinforced the faulty notion that everyone has the right to an opinion. Itís a charming notion, but itís not a belief I happen to share. I believe that everyone has the right to an informed, well-thought opinion. I donít care if the self-appointed pundit in question agrees with me or not, but I do care that they have given thought to all sides of an issue, and I really care that they have bothered to inform themselves of the basic facts.

Nowhere is this problem more evident than in the case of the celebrity sports analyst. ESPN in particular has the habit of carelessly hiring ďanalystsĒ whose only credential is their previous on-field accomplishments. The most recent offender is Emmitt Smith, NFL Hall of Famer and new ESPN football ďanalyst.Ē

Now, I have a lot of respect for Emmitt and in the end, he may turn out to be an outstanding analyst. But early returns are not promising. The problem with the lifestyle of the professional athlete is that if theyíre not careful, their years with their team and their ďposseĒ will leave them with a pretty myopic outlook. This could be the case with Emmitt.

His problems may be compounded if he assumes that because he is one of the greatest football players of all time, that he might have some of the greatest opinions of all time. Judging from what Emmitt had to contribute to the Michael Vick dogfighting story, Emmitt has a long haul ahead of him, not just in terms of learning how to inform himself before he opens his mouth, but in terms of distancing himself from his impulsive desire to stand up for his fellow athletes when the ďsqueezeĒ is on.

Emmittís toe-stubbing ďdebutĒ as an analyst came when he appeared on the ESPN networks to offer up his misguided take on the Michael Vick dogfighting scandal. Emmitt evidently decided it would be interesting to be the first person to speak on the topic who had not only not read the indictment, but who had not read an article about the indictment either. Itís not clear that Emmitt knew an indictment had actually happened. The result gave the distinct impression of ďEmmitt as Fool,Ē something we are not used to seeing.

ďHe's the biggest fish in the whole doggone pond right now so they're putting the squeeze on him to get to everyone else,Ē Smith said. ďNow, granted he might have been to a dogfight a time or two, maybe five times, maybe twenty times, may have bet some money, but he's not the one you're after. He's not the one you're after, he's just the one whose going to take the fall ó publicly.Ē

Uhhh, but Emmitt, Michael is actually accused of helping to run dogfights and killing dogs afterwards. At the least, Vick owned a property where dogfighting took place. So, Emmitt, you donít have to worry about betting on the fights when your people actually run them. Oh and Emmitt, Vick *is* who the feds are after. There are not squeezing him to get to somebody else. The reverse: they are now squeezing Vickís co-defendants to get to him.

Perhaps that is unfair and that is the story. But for Emmitt, not only did he get his facts wildly wrong, but his whole theme, that Vick is being squeezed to get to the real target, is completely the opposite of what is actually happening. Perhaps Emmitt was under the impression that this Vick saga is actually a made-for-TV series on ESPN and that there is still time to rework the plot and the arc of the character to suit his Harry Potter fantasies of how mob stings ensnare athletes.

Now, I doubt Emmitt did much damage by these remarks. This story has gotten enough publicity, and Emmittís take is so wildly inaccurate, that only the terminally misguided could have been further misled. But Emmitt could potentially do more damage to less reported stories in the future if he continues to believe that running his mouth is the same thing as giving informed commentary.

I suspect Emmitt got a call from a man in a suit after this dopey segment, and the next time around he will probably sound like he didnít just wake up from a long nap in front of his bust in Canton. I hope for Emmittís sake he prepares himself better next time. Otherwise, he will remain lumped in with all those who have deluded themselves into thinking their life experience automatically gives them a worthwhile opinion. Opinions are something you have to earn and maintain through self-education. If we all understood that and committed to it, the world would be a better place with better conversations.


Categories: bad sports
posted on Thursday, July, 26 2007 by Jon Reed

Wednesday, June, 06 2007

Don't Muzzle Yourself, Educate Yourself

Recently Clinton Portis made some unfortunate comments about dogfighting. But what was more unfortunate was the lesson he supposedly learned from running his mouth. For those who missed it, Portis was asked about Michael Vick and the dogfighting allegations, and he responded with some unflattering quotes that at worst reflected an indifference to the suffering of animals, and at best indicated that Portis doesnít know what a felony is. Basically, Portis backed up Vick with the good old ďanything goes inside the privacy of a manís homeĒ defense. Of course, thereís one small problem with that. Felonies tend to rub the cops the wrong way, whether or not you are chilling at the crib. While one of his pals laughed in the background, Portis expressed surprise that such a big deal was made about a pastime that could easily be found down backroads where he was raised.

As someone who finds dogfighting abhorrent, I did have a few issues with Portisí comments, though I would defend to the hilt his right to express them. But should he be a scapegoat for saying what many athletes (and others) who participate in dogfighting were surely thinking? What I really had a problem with, however, was his apology. After a week went by, and Portis took heat from the commissioner of the NFL, animal rights activists, and maybe even from his own fish collection, he stepped back and said he was sorry. Portisí apology came down to his newfound appreciation for how strongly some people feel about their pets. Portis, who has never had a pet of his own besides his mutually indifferent fish, gained a different perspective. So whatís the problem? The problem is in his final comment in the apology: ďFrom now on, I donít comment on nobody...my life is the only thing I can control.Ē

Heís right about that last part, but as for not commenting on nobody, what Portis is saying is that it takes too much energy for him to educate himself on world issues to the point where he can make intelligent comments that wonít cause a backlash against him. Thatís a shame. The problem was not that Portis spoke out - the problem was that he opened his mouth and assumed that what would come out of it would make sense. But all of us have to educate ourselves if we want to sound sensible. So now Portis, like so many other athletes, is going to play it safe. Heís going to be careful not to comment on any issue bigger than a football. Thatís too bad. Whether athletes are Republicans or Democrats, hunters or animal rights activists, we need more informed and thoughtful opinions from our millionaires, not less.

Portis is hardly the exception - most pro athletes have taken enough bruises from the media to keep their mouths shut. But when mouths close, so does the educational process. Yes, it would have been better if Portis had known something about the issue he was talking about, but it was a good learning experience for him. I give Portis credit for speaking his mind and then for keeping it open when the backlash came.

This process of relearning carries more weight to me than his apology. Itís just too bad his determination not to offend is stronger than his desire to continue to learn. Sure, I get tired of loudmouths like Gary Sheffield, who recently offered one of the most ill-conceived comparisons of black and Latino baseball players since the 1950s. But Iíd rather have a loudmouth than an athlete who keeps their mouth shut because they are sweating their endorsement value or donít want to offend somebodyís mother. Of course, an athlete with intellectual curiosity and strong convictions would be even better, but thatís probably too much to hope for. I guess weíre going to have to settle for bland jocks who keep their sheltered, myopic ideas to themselves.


Categories: bad sports
posted on Wednesday, June, 06 2007 by Jon Reed

Wednesday, March, 28 2007

Dance Your Way Through "Lost" with ABC

You're watching an intense episode of "Lost" on ABC. Suddenly your attention is distracted, not by the outside world, but by ABC itself, as they slip in a not-so-subliminal - in this case an animated jig of two people dancing that skirts down the edge of the screen, but just for a couple of eye-catching moments! How intriguing! How fun! ABC is fun! Now, you have no idea why the tiny people are dancing while John Locke is blowing up a submarine, but then a little voice in your head reminds you that ABC is pushing "Dancing with the Stars" again. Dancing is cool. Therefore, I will get up from this gripping episode of "Lost" and look up the time for "Dancing with the Stars" online. On-screen clutter is not exclusive to ABC. Each morning during the news, my local CBS affiliate slaps a homemade, ill-fitting Dunkin Donuts decal on the screen. Cram it in there! We won't mind the clutter. In the YouTube age, I can accept the importance of a transparent network logo for copyright reasons. I'll even put up with an enormous "winter storm is comin' down on your ass!" banner when the local weather team needs to pay some bills by cashing in on pending bad weather real or imagined. But more and more, we're seeing the unwelcome insertion of sponsor logos (doughnuts anyone?), and when it comes to sports, we're seeing the sponsorship of everything that isn't nailed to the court, including the sponsorship of timeouts, free throws, and so-called "game summaries." Perhaps the silliest thing? Listening to damned-if-you-do announcers like Dick Enberg, who doesn't know how to speak without gravitas, reading in-game promos for soon-to-be-cancelled shows: "She was an Ivy League graduate with an nose for a good story. He was a serial killer with an axe to grind. Find out what happens immediately following the game." I won't even get started on the pleasure of seeing my favorite sitcom stars, like little Ducky from "Pretty in Pink" (a.k.a Jon Cryer of "Two and a Half Men"), sitting courtside during a game sponsored by his network. I just love hearing Ducky break down a zone defense. If I miss some of the game action due to the what-a-coincidence-there-is-a-celebrity-from-our-network-in-the-stands interview, then so much the better. Maybe the best solution is just to combine the shows. Merge "Lost" and "Dancing with the Stars," merge "CSI" and "The Amazing Race." No need to invade one show to plug the other when they're on at the same time!. Dance with the stars of an airline crash. Investigate the murder of a bad reality TV show host. Double your audience, double your ad rates. Sign my eyeballs up! Whatever demographic I represent, we'll be there.

Categories: bad sports mocking ads
posted on Wednesday, March, 28 2007 by Jon Reed

Wednesday, February, 14 2007

There are no upsets in college basketball (but ESPN's coverage is upsetting)

On the good side, ESPN's family of networks covers a lot of college ballgames. On the downside, any botched-up decisions they make on how to cover college hoops has far-reaching consequences. And leave it to ESPN to fall down in their own heavy-handed hype. One bone to pick: ESPNews, as well as Sportscenter, are eager to breathlessly feature any big college "UPSETS." Newsflash guys: there *are* no upsets in college basketball anymore. The parity that helped George Mason get to the Final Four has made college ball more of a level playing field, for better and for worse. Add that to the mass exudus of blue chip talent to the NBA, and you have a definite "any given Sunday" vibe to any college basketball matchup. So when ESPNews highlights, as they did the other night, a "major upset," such as "West Virginia upsets UCLA," the eyes glaze over. Yes, if West Virginia had beat UCLA in a seven game series, it would have been a major upset. But Lew Alcindor isn't playing for UCLA these days. On any given night, a team can get it up and put a hurt on another. Yes, it's ESPN's job to make college basketball exciting. But there seems to be a (mistaken) belief that the underlying games aren't exciting enough without some kind of blast from the artificial hype machine. Nowhere is that more evident than the ESPN "Gameday" coverage, where the guys take their studio on the road and let a bunch of blowhard fans as close to the set as possible. When did it become cool to be a total camera-grubbing psycho for your team? That kind of fandom isn't making the world a better place. These are the guys that ten years from now will kick the crap out of some poor chap who wears "opposing colors" to an NFL game. You can love sports without being a collegiate homer asshole screaming at ESPN commentators whenever they criticize your team. But whether that manic "I love my team and hate yours" mentality should be encouraged by a national network is an open question. But the real problem is ESPN, and their unnecessarily frenetic coverage. College basketball is a great, billion dollar product - ESPN's coverage indicates a level of insecurity about that product that makes no sense. All ESPN has to do is to step back and let the games speak for themselves. But then I guess some talking heads would be out of a job.

Categories: bad sports
posted on Wednesday, February, 14 2007 by Jon Reed

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