“I was trying to help her up and she fell on her leg.”

~

Of course she did, dear.

And so it goes: another pro athlete arrested for stupid behavior that threatens an otherwise entitled and charmed life. Some people can’t see how fortunate they are. The man is blessed with tackling talent that eventually gives him an embarrassment of riches. After retirement from the NFL, he is paid handsomely to hang around the sidelines and give his opinion on stuff. Difficult job.

It’s a cruel statement, “You can take the boy out of the ghetto, but you can’t take the ghetto out of the boy.” Yet it’s been proven over and over again in pro sports — especially the NBA and NFL. Fortunately, these jokers seem to be in the minority; most pro athletes make it through their careers without spending a single night in jail. Imagine that.

And then there’s the ubiquitous shirking of any blame whatsoever. Why do they do this so consistently? Because they get away with it so frequently. Why take the blame when you can successfully point the finger at someone or something else? Sapp will plead innocent, even if they send him to jail (which they won’t). It’s *always* somebody else’s fault. And even though the truth — either hard or circumstantial — will stare the judges right in the face, they will slap little Warren with an earth-shattering punishment by fining him and sending him back to his “job” on the NFL network for seven figures, so, you know, we can repeat this scenario in five years or so and go through the same process with the same result.

And the sad part is, it’s not limited to pro sports. But don’t get me started on that. I’m actually in a good mood today.

After I got home at 7:00 last night, I did not feel like working. The Thriller and I watched some TV instead — I think it was the NFL Network. We watched a special on Jim “King” Corcoran.

One word describes my reaction: speechless.

It was one of the more bizarre (yet completely entertaining) bio programs I’ve ever seen. It was produced by NFL Films. You have to watch it. No, really, I mean it. You have to.

As a 30-some-year football fan, I was surprised that I’d never heard of him. I’d seen the name “Corcoran” now and again, but apparently never thought anything of it or bothered to inquire. The Thriller’s first comment upon seeing footage of Corcoran later in life: “He’s a dead ringer for Gene Simmons!” Imagine my delight at finding out in later research that one of Jim’s famous escapades in Las Vegas involved his impersonating the KISS singer. Heh.

Honestly. You just have to read it to believe it. Then catch the NFL Network TV show. If you thought Joe Namath was a boisterous, self-absorbed, womanizing self-promoter, this guy will change your perspective forever. Like someone said in the TV special: “Jim was the ‘off-Broadway’ version of Joe Namath.” Very good assessment. Corcoran, for me, redefined “bizarre.” He was indeed Joe Namath — but with a raging personality disorder thrown in. Amazing. Truly, you have to read his story to get the gist. I’m shocked that even YouTube has nothing on him — no wonder many people hadn’t heard of him. But he is worth checking out, believe it. Wow.

FO

Yay.

Yes, I’ll admit it. I am happy because the St*****s didn’t make the playoffs. It’s like Dallas being sick of hearing about the “1996 curse” — I am sick of hearing about Pittsburgh winning. It’s time to let someone else. I wish it were the Browns and not the Ravens & Bengals, but…at least it’s not Them.

It’s all good, however. I’m sure the Pittsburgh players and coaches are great guys, and let’s face it, everyone wants to win. But it’s the Browns’ turn to do well. At least in my lifetime.

It snowed overnight. Very pretty outside. But no delay. Methinks my superintendent is having a bit of schadenfreude this day.

As I said over a year ago, which was the last time the Browns really did anything impressive: that was worth staying up for.

Big Ben got his chimes rung eight times by the Cleveland defense. That can’t have felt good on a night when the wind chills were way below zero.

Josh Cribbs finally got his win, and he wasn’t ashamed to say how much he relished it:

They’re going to hear that bus’s engine all the way back. That’s a lonely ride. I’ve ridden that ride for five years now. It’s time for them to hear that engine all the way home while they look at the stat sheet.”

I was like, “Oh yeah, I hear ya” until I read his next quote, referring to Cleveland’s many Pittsburgh fans:

I hope people go to work and kick those Steelers fans.”

Hmm. Not so good. Comments like that tend to draw the accidental elbow to the head, spear to the ribs, or the slightly over-enthusiastic body slam on a tackle next time.

No matter. I’ll take this win because it’s about time they beat Pittsburgh — even a Pittsburgh going through an extraordinarily (and uncharacteristically) rough season.

Yay for da good guys. OK, now I want to go back to bed.

Blarg.

Photo credit: clevelandbrowns.com

…I get a tiny little evil thrill when this happens. Not a big one, mind (I am ever watchful for Kaptain Karma’s Army), but it makes me just giggle quietly in the corner for a minute.

Posted yesterday by sportswriter Tim Povtak, the article’s title was “Shaq Simply Can’t Handle Howard,” to wit:

O’Neal’s belief — and insistence — that he won’t need any double-team help to manage [Dwight] Howard around the basket when his Cavs play the [Orlando] Magic on national television Wednesday, is a fantasy.”

Love it.

Of course, as we all know now, Shaquille O’Neal “handled” Howard pretty well last night — or at least well enough to get the guy in foul trouble in the first couple of minutes. But, oh yeah:

At age 23, Howard could play a double-header on the same day and still have more spring in his step and agility on the court than Shaq today. That’s not to minimize the great career of O’Neal, but it’s a fact of life.”

Right. Forgot about that.

The truth is — and I can’t believe it escaped Mr. Povtak so cleanly — that anything can happen in sports. Yes, basketball is a “young man’s game,” as he wrote. But sports journalism needs to be a smart man’s game. Apparently he missed the memo that said, “If you don’t want to look like an idiot tomorrow, don’t go all Joe Namath today.” Turns out, after reading the comments (some of which are quite amusing), the guy used to be a beat writer for the Magic. Well now…who knew?

I look at this as a life lesson about the dangers of chicken counting. Or maybe it’s that I’ve been a Cleveland sports fan for so long, I know better than to predict anything remotely resembling a walk-off win (or any kind of win, for that matter).

Speaking of the Cavs…my v-jazz ensemble is singing the national anthem at their game against the Suns on Wednesday, 2 December. I predict we will………have fun.

FO