Wednesday, February 01, 2006

AHW: SuperBlog XL Edition

There are really two things that bother me about modern athletes the most. One is being named Kobe BryantOne is all of the the sky-pointing and god-talk. I'm not referring to Curt Schilling style "thank God for giving me the ability" which I then made the most of, etc., which makes me slightly uncomfortable, but I can live with.

Its more the "God is on my side" message implicit in a lot of this stuff. First of all, I doubt it, you preening, strutting, Prima Donna. It's not even about God for most of you anyway, it's about "look at me, look at me." Originally it was signing a football or doing a little dance, then it was pointing to the sky, and next I predict jersey-popping will supplant them both. Second, do you really think God is a football fan? Even in Texas, I doubt it. Third, I'm reminded of the Chris Rock bit, where a losing boxer is interviewed after the fight and said "I was doing fine until Jesus came down and punched me in my ribs."

But, as much as that tweaks me, I hate, hate the false motivational, "bulletin board" material. Vince Young wasn't going to be amped for the National Championship game if he had (underservedly) won the Heisman? Similarly, Joey Porter, if you need Jeremy Stevens to motivate you...
Porter said Stevens' remarks were all he needed to get him going for the Super Bowl."I've been asleep all week but now I got woke up," Porter said Wednesday. "I've got my first taste of blood and now I'm thirsty for more. Until now, it was 'Watch what I say,' `I can't say this,' `I can't say that,' `Don't do anything silly,' but I'm ready now.
Joey, I'd like to quote Minneapolis Sports Radio Personality Dan Barreiro and say "Shut Up! Shut Up! Shut Up! Shut Up! Shut Up!" In fact, I'm annoyed enough with Joey to go out an a limb and pick the Steelers to win on Sunday. And since we all know how good I am at predicting stuff, they're doomed. (Sorry, John.)

Hey, I enjoy good trashtalking as much as anyone, from the late Drazen Petrovic's semi-derranged Croat-English rantings ("In your facial, Mr. Hot Stuffing!") to Doug Chrisite running around the house to "Wanna go, pretty boy?" And Joey Porter takes a refreshingly old school approach:

"I'll be out there, getting myself warmed up, saying something like, 'Who you looking at? You see something over here you like?' And then if the other guy says something slick back, there goes my huckleberry -- I got him. That's the guy I'm going to target for the whole game."
That's fine. But this is also the guy who's accused the NFL of cheating in a slightly Oliver Stone-like conspriracy theory, (and he somehow wasn't fined for these remarks? Does he have film of Paul Tagliabue laying down large sums at Vegas sports books wearing Groucho glasses and a turban?) and doesn't see to be averse to public pregame trashtalk himself.

So before you go all Pat Ewing on us and make a bunch of guarantees, go win the game. And then make a commercial about going to Disneyland to see Mickey Mouse and the rest of the Seahawks offense.


Icepick said...

Porter didn't get fined because the NFL had to admit that the refs had blown some key calls in the game. They didn't want that story hanging around any longer than necessary, and fining Porter would have prolonged their agony.

Daedalus said...

You mean God doesn't make you score touchdowns? ;)

the nfl is a spectacle, not a sport. no one learned from the T.O. situation.

Pooh said...

Hey Daedalus, thanks for stopping by.

I occasionally get crap around here for admitting that I often prefer the round football to the American obling version...

bill said...

Pooh, speaking of which, Monday is Man U and Liverpool in an FA Cup game. Gotta find a bar and skip out of work early.

Pooh said...

Well, bill, for me that would mean not even going to work, since the game likely starts around 10 my time. (Wonder if there is some place here in town showing it though.)

I'd post about soccer a lot more, but I think I'm the only one who would either know or care what I was talking about.

Of course, during the WC, I will not be able to contain myself.