Thursday, August 24, 2006
Cluck-Cluck; Cluck-Cluck
Can we get everyone in the New York sports world to just relax, here? Or, maybe, grow up?0 comments
I'm getting a little tired of people, who might usually be found letting fellow humans die in the street, wailing over having their sensibilities offended by mere words—especially if those words have emotion-of-the-moment behind them.
Oh, forfend!
New York sports writers, barely less emotionally overwrought than your anchors at Fox News Channel on a good day, have a new hero to clutch their pearls over in this new kid, Kevan Barlow, whom the New York Jets just obtained from the San Francisco 49ers in a whirlwind 48 hours of official team misstatements from both teams, promises made only to be broken, hurt feelings, redeye flights, three-hour physicals on no sleep and ambush phone call interviews from three thousand miles away as you're about to hit your pillow.
No one likes being called names, no, of course not. But in the heat of a moment, people say stupid things, and they usually apologize privately, deal with any fallout or hurt feelings and move on. It usually doesn't become tabloid headline material for the underentertained. In passing, Barlow called his ex-boss a dictator; a Hitler.
Gosh. Gee-whillikers.
Cheesy, yes.
But if this is such a crime, more than half the American workforce is gonna end up in the newspapers.
In a winning-obsessed town like New York and in a greed-centric world like the NFL, if this kid starts racking up impressive 1,000-yard seasons, he could start calling everyone George Bush, for crissakes, and no one would mind.
Of course, however, if he doesn't deliver the hoped-for excellence, he will be officially reclassified as evil and the Jets will let him fend for himself without a paycheck in the world George Bush created. Bye. Slam.
If the enemy of the moron is my friend, then I've just become a Kevan Barlow fan.
posted by Gotham 10:06 AM
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