On tuesday I watched the seemingly eternal news conference held at Rutgers concerning Don Imus's stupid and racist comment about the women's basketball team. I saw all the girls, dressed in their cool team jerseys, sitting demurely and meekly in a row, listening politely as some old, white guy wrung his hands, gnashed his teeth, rended his garments and otherwise blathered endlessly in anguished tones about how this incident was the most tragic and horrible thing to ever happen to the human race. Next up was an old, black woman, who spoke much the same, but in far more severe and outraged tones, because, after all, she is a coach, a role model, a shining beacon of light on a hill somewhere. Then, the girls took their turns at the podium. One said that she has been "scarred for life" and--yada, yada, yada.
Let's have some perspective here: These girls play basketball, which, next to boxing, is the most in your face, get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way, you're-going-down-bitch sport in the known universe. They didn't get good at their game by collapsing into some post traumatic stress syndrome quivering wreck crying quietly in a corner everytime they got their feelings hurt. I'm willing to bet that the first reaction they had when they heard of the I-Man's lame comment was to think: Oh, so we're a bunch of nappy headed hos, uh? Well, let's get you alone in a room, asshole, and we'll show you just how much these nappy headed hos can fuck you up.
Actually, while watching these ladies, I got the impression that they would rather be anywhere else, maybe even sitting in a mud hole in Darfur, trying to figure out how long you need to boil sand in order to call it a meal, than listening to a bunch of old people prattle on about the insanely stupid remarks of an ancient crone who likes to pretend he's a cowboy. (As James Michener pointed out, you aint a cowboy unless you tend fucking cows. [Expletive added]}
I watched Imus for a brief period in the late nineties, until I realized how boring, pretentious and irrelevant he truly was. He still is. I'm happy he's been yanked from my cable schedule. He's still on the radio, somewhere, at least for the time being {CBS is "evaluating" his status). What he needs to do is retire to his ranch and care for the kids with cancer who stay there. At least in that area he does some good.
Let's have some perspective here: These girls play basketball, which, next to boxing, is the most in your face, get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way, you're-going-down-bitch sport in the known universe. They didn't get good at their game by collapsing into some post traumatic stress syndrome quivering wreck crying quietly in a corner everytime they got their feelings hurt. I'm willing to bet that the first reaction they had when they heard of the I-Man's lame comment was to think: Oh, so we're a bunch of nappy headed hos, uh? Well, let's get you alone in a room, asshole, and we'll show you just how much these nappy headed hos can fuck you up.
Actually, while watching these ladies, I got the impression that they would rather be anywhere else, maybe even sitting in a mud hole in Darfur, trying to figure out how long you need to boil sand in order to call it a meal, than listening to a bunch of old people prattle on about the insanely stupid remarks of an ancient crone who likes to pretend he's a cowboy. (As James Michener pointed out, you aint a cowboy unless you tend fucking cows. [Expletive added]}
I watched Imus for a brief period in the late nineties, until I realized how boring, pretentious and irrelevant he truly was. He still is. I'm happy he's been yanked from my cable schedule. He's still on the radio, somewhere, at least for the time being {CBS is "evaluating" his status). What he needs to do is retire to his ranch and care for the kids with cancer who stay there. At least in that area he does some good.
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