Hack Attack

Right on cue, the big and big-in-their-own-minds names within the Conservative Entertainment Complex are coming out of the woodwork to priggishly dismiss the importance of Jason Collins's decision to make history by being the first major pro-sports athlete to publicly admit he's gay. In the latter category -- the ones who aren't really important but who merely think they are -- is 'tweeny Breitbart.com pretend-agitator Ben Shapiro. He's spent most of the morning on Twitter trying to downplay Collins's stats and other attributes as a pro basketball player in the hope of diverting attention away from what's really a pretty historic moment in sports -- all because he's an obnoxious little twat.

Anyway, among his rants is one proclaiming that anyone who considers Collins a "hero" for having the balls to come out of the closet in an environment that can be infamously homophobic has simply lost sight of what a real hero is.

And that's where Mediaite and Gawker proceed to shred him. If Shapiro had the ability to actually be embarrassed, he'd be embarrassed about this.

Mediaite: Surprise! Some Brietbart.com Guy Reacts Like a Buffoon To NBA Player Coming Out as Gay/4.29.13

Good Sports

If you're a conservative Christian, this is the day you've been dreading, the one you can mark on your calendar that begins you and your family's inexorable move into the doomsday shelter you built in your backyard. Yes, Armageddon has begun.

In one day, an NBA player has come out of the closet and the Jets have cut Tim Tebow (after just one season).

In other words, what most of us already knew has finally been made abundantly clear to everyone: A) There are people in professional sports who are gay, and B) Tebow is a shitty quarterback.

Have a nice day, everyone.

Any Given Sunday Sacrilege

Get in line to call me petty, but there's little more I enjoy on a Sunday than watching Tim Tebow take an especially rough hit on the field. And I know I'm not the only one.

Last weekend, Detroit Lions linebacker Stephen Tulloch got into a minor amount of trouble for appearing to mock Tebow's in-your-face Christianity after sacking the crap out of him. Tulloch got down on one knee and assumed the position Tebow has become mildly famous for: an obsequious genuflection before God, which he performs at regular intervals seemingly for no other reason than the fact that he's just that overwhelmed with humility in the face of his heavenly father and must give thanks. For those who haven't been paying attention, it's even developed a name -- "Tebowing" -- and has become something of an internet sensation.

Obviously, Tebow's faith isn't something he's hidden under a bushel since assuming the spotlight; in fact, he rarely shuts up about how much he loves Jesus. From appearing with his beaming, cookie-cutter mom in a pro-life Super Bowl ad, to imprinting "John 3:16" on his eye black, to requesting that everyone bow their own heads in prayer at last year's NFL Scouting Combine (the response he got was one for the ages), to of course debasing himself in the presence of his Lord and Savior every time you point a camera in his direction, Tim Tebow may very well be the second coming (although I'd hope the Son of God would be better in the pocket).

I bring all of this up for two reasons: The first is that after Tulloch's little display, he swore up and down that he wasn't ridiculing Tebow's faith -- just poking a little fun at Tebow himself. This is both true and false. No, he wasn't mocking God; if history is any indication, there isn't an NFL player alive who'd do that. But he absolutely was mocking Tebow's self-righteous, middle-class white guy brand of hardcore evangelism, as well as the fact that it's simultaneously turned him into an inviolable hero to some and an obnoxious pussy to everyone else. Sorry, but the perfect little clean-cut kid who flaunts his piety is gonna have a target on his back -- no way around that. The second reason has everything to do with this, in fact. In response to the Tulloch Tebowing incident, CBS Sports writer Gregg Doyel put together a piece that's shocking in its willingness to confront Tebow's sanctimonious fans and, by extension, their particular faith in both God and his favorite football player. Doyel doesn't beat up on Tebow himself, but what he writes is fascinating stuff when you consider that he's working under the purview of CBS and is basically attacking a segment of the Christian faithful -- the people who whine that Tebow is a martyr for their god, that he's assailed for his effusive expressions of belief.

Doyel says it has more to do with Tebow's fans than with Tebow himself. I actually think it's both.

CBS Sports: Tim Tebow Can Thank His Self-Righteous Fans for the Heat He's Taking/11.2.11

Quote of the Day, Jr.

"It has gotten this bad for Miami: The bye week is a six-point favorite."

-- Miami Herald sports writer Greg Cote on the winless embarrassment that is the Miami Dolphins, who mercifully won't have to play this coming Sunday

Moneyball

Matt Taibbi rightfully lambastes the hypocrisy inherent in the University of Miami football "scandal":

"Objectively speaking, there’s no logical reason why it should be wrong to pay a star football player who’s helping the University of Miami secure a multimillion-dollar TV deal. But the NCAA says it’s wrong, and its officials even wrote a complex series of rules to back themselves up – and, unbelievably, the entire sportswriting community buys the myth.

When stories like this Shapiro thing come out, about teenagers who are caught making the mistake of actually accepting pay for their labor, every pompous, finger-wagging dimwit asshole in the sportscasting world –- and there are a lot of those -- naturally has to sound the moral alarm."

I went to U.M., and even at the time, when the words "Hurricanes" and "football" were never uttered in the same sentence without the word "dynasty" -- and rarely without the word "assholes" -- I couldn't have really cared less about college football. Not saying I don't love football; I do, actually. NCAA football is just one of those things I've never really allowed myself to become a slave to fretting over one way or the other. That said, is the U.M. scandal honestly all that big a deal? Great, so some criminal gave a bunch of kids a leg-up in the grotesque lifestyle our entire culture has programmed them to strive for and which they were almost sure to become the next arbiters of anyway. Are we really gonna pretend that the greed that drives today's college sports is somehow of a higher moral caliber than the greed that drives professional sports? Jesus, that's a laughable conceit. Talk about misplaced righteous indignation.

Although, I really love Taibbi's take on ESPN blabber-putz Colin Cowherd:

"Cowherd, for whom a jewel-encrusted throne thirty feet high is undoubtedly already being constructed in raging sportscaster blowhard Valhalla, went one further – saying these kids should have been more like Jesus, who after all didn’t mind being poor."

Picture of the Day

A photo by Richard Lam, Getty Images, of a couple "making love, not war" during the Stanley Cup riots in Vancouver last night

The Miami Hate

Make no mistake: I couldn't care less what anyone in America thinks of the Miami Heat. For me, the fact that they're almost universally, though still somewhat inexplicably, loathed is part of the fun at this stage. But I can be kind of an asshole.

Still, Bill Plaschke of the L.A. Times makes a really great point -- one that I know a lot of Miami Heat fans have pondered during this entire post-season run.

"Imagine a basketball team whose three biggest stars have sacrificed money and ego to assemble on one team for the sole intent of winning a championship.

Two of those stars' craving for a title was such that they left homes they loved and fans who loved them. The third star made an equally difficult move by stepping aside and welcoming them.

Imagine this collection of players then playing an entire season under a national microscope unmatched in the history of team sports. Every itch is documented, every scratch is scrutinized, every star is questioned about every public act, every day is another chance for them to embarrass or enrage.

But imagine they don't. They endure the media's perfect storm with uncommon dignity and grace. They don't publicly criticize others. They don't publicly fight among themselves. Off the court, they are a model of restraint. On the court, they are an example of unselfish determination, three guys trying to figure out a way to meld their three incredible talents for the good of this team.

Imagine this collection of stifled egos and textbook teammates growing together for nine months until they are within two victories of an NBA title.

And imagine all of America cheering against them.

This is the Miami Heat, and you hate the Heat, and I can't figure out why."

And that's before he gets into the reasons why the Mavericks maybe aren't so deserving of everyone's sudden endorsement, even if it is only by default.

The Los Angeles Times: It's Not Hard To Imagine the Heat as the Good Guys/6.11.11

Two Feet High and Falling

It's rare that I write about sports around here, but anyone's who's been reading long enough knows that I'm a die hard fan of soccer -- particularly the English Premier League. I meant to resurrect this piece a couple of weeks ago, when an appropriately pissed-off L.A. Galaxy fan almost took a swing at the team's occasional superstar midfielder, David Beckham. Considering that Beckham was out for the Galaxy's recent game against Chicago due to a red card -- proving that even when he's playing, he's not playing -- I wanted to remind everyone what I wrote when the Great-and-Powerful Becks first signed on to a soccer team here in the states. Bottom line: Only an idiot couldn't have seen all this drama coming.

"Bench It Like Beckham" (Originally Published, 7.17.07)

America, if you actually were to begin with, you can stop cheering now -- or at the very least looking on with a modicum of fascination. Sure you've seen the good looks, the chiseled physique, the designer wardrobe, the rumors of a conversion to Scientology and his almost-lifelike wife, Stepford Spice. And you've no doubt heard about his legendary prowess on the pitch (that's a soccer field for you neophytes).

But that was just the excellent work of the starfucking media and a PR/hype machine that's second to none.

Now, however, less than a week after his extravagant coming out party -- the one that might eventually rival the mass flagellation sure to greet the returning Christ-child -- the man behind the sequined curtain has made his first appearance.

The real David Beckham has finally arrived.

For the record, I had really hoped that he wouldn't; I had really hoped that this time would be different.

I had really hoped that this time, Beckham wouldn't be such a, well, pussy.

Yesterday, the coach of Becks's adopted team, the L.A. Galaxy, announced that his shiny new star midfielder was complaining of a sore ankle and therefore might not make his scheduled debut this coming Saturday against London powerhouse Chelsea (who, by the way, is guaranteed to kick the Galaxy's collective ass all over the field with or without Beckham in the lineup).

The game is sold out. It'll be carried live on ESPN. It's the latest, and possible biggest "big chance" for soccer in America -- and Becks may be sitting it out.

Understand, I take nothing away from Beckham's substantial talents: He's far and away the best place kicker in the game -- having an almost supernatural control over the ball -- and on the field he's much more of a team player than anyone would expect from such a high-profile, brand-name star (although I still contend that he wouldn't be the star he is today were it not for Ryan Giggs playing the Pippen to his Jordan all those years at Man United). But it's tough to forget (and avoid drawing comparisons to present events) the apparent ease with which he pulled himself out of a crucial match in last year's World Cup.

I'm talking about England vs. Portugal.

Team Captain Beckham complained of an upset stomach and wound up sitting on the sidelines while England went down in flames -- with incorrigible thug Wayne Rooney brutally stomping on fellow Premier Leaguer Ricardo Carvalho and squaring off with his own EPL teammate Christiano Ronaldo, and the Brits eventually losing 3-1 in a heartbreaking penalty kick shootout. Beckham was said to be near tears following the loss, but it was tough to feel sorry for him (the rest of the team was a different story) simply because it seemed almost a given that it should've taken nothing less than a sucking chest wound to keep him out of a game in which the stakes were so high.

And now, once again -- even after an exceptional climax to his career with Réal Madrid -- he's making it clear that he may be ready to opt out of a pivotal match. He cut his first practice with the Galaxy shamefully short yesterday, which seems suspect when you consider that the aforementioned final game with La Liga was almost a month ago to the day.

Oh, and the fact that Beckham didn't even arrive in the United States until last Thursday -- which happened to be twelve days into the official start of his contract.

It's pretty much understood that the Galaxy isn't paying for Becks's ability to play as much as for his ability to fill stadium seats; L.A. in general wants "Beckham Inc." more than "Beckham, PFA." Still, Beckhamania already may not be enough to bring soccer into the mainstream into the United States -- God knows everything else has failed miserably. But it surely won't be if the man with the magic feet doesn't put them on the pitch when it counts most.

Like now.