We haven't dabbled in sporting news for a while. I know that there are certain of my readers who skip these posts on general principles (Yes, I'm looking at YOU!) because they "don't like sports." I'm put in mind (isn't that a lovely phrase?) of Frank DeFord, of ESPN and Sports Illustrated fame, who would respond to similar complaints by saying that he was writing about people, not necessarily the games themselves. The human interest focused television coverage of the Olympics drives the Big Cuter to distraction, diminishing as it does in his eyes the purpose of the games, which is competition on the playing field. Personally, I am of the opinion that getting to the games is, for some people, more than enough. Even for those who will go on to win medals, their history makes watching them schuss down the slopes more than just pretty colors and strong thighs. I like knowing that Picabo Street was named for the baby game and that Dan Jansen loved his sister; it's of equal value to the athleticism on display.
So, if you're still reading, MTF.....
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Labor Day means many things to many people, but to a New York girl the end of August is always the US Open Tennis Championships. Traffic is snarled and subways are crowded and the weather is always iffy but sometimes there is really wonderful tennis. Sometimes there is drama. It is New York, after all.
For those of you who rely on me to keep them abreast of the sports highlights so that they can turn their brains to more worthy pursuits (hi, Nance!) let me first inform you that Andy Roddick, 28 years old, threw a hissy fit about a line call and went on to lose in the second round. Just shake your head and say "He's having a tough time, lately" and you'll be fine, should the conversation veer in his direction.
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The more poignant news was seeing Victoria Azarenka of Belarus collapsed on the court. At first they thought it was heat related, the temperatures in the 90s and New York's infamous late summer humidity combining to lay her prostrate on the ground. Turns out, she had fallen and hit her head while running sprints in her warm up to the match. She was checked out at the time by the medics and found to be fit to play... a decision no one is second guessing but which turned out to be a bit optimistic. Concussions are, I guess, not that easy to diagnose.
Guardians of young sports fiends, be aware.
A player on the Big Cuter's high school lacrosse team had 8 concussions before his senior year. His parents (one a doctor) were disturbed, but playing the game kept the kid on the straight and narrow and got him into college and it was the thing he loved...... I wonder if they'd make the same decisions now that the NFL is into full-on concussion education mode?
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My boys are getting antsy - real football starts next Thursday. There's a palpable sense of excitement and anticipation and just plain glee in the air. I learned the rules and when to be quiet and how to cheer... all in self-defense. TBG loves it and I loved him so I paid enough attention to be a worthy fan on the couch until the Big Cuter came along. Once he was old enough to amuse his father by drawing up elaborate plays with x's and o's on legal pads while lying on the Oriental rug at Dad's feet I was free to pursue other interests. What we do for love.
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Ben Roethlisberger, quarterback of the Pittsburgh Steelers, is wondering if his suspension for accosting a young woman is just too onerous a penalty. After all, he's not spent a moment in jail, nor has he been indicted or arrested.
It's a sorry state of affairs when those are the qualifications you present when seeking mercy.
When was the last time you heard about a professional athlete getting in trouble while exiting his church on Sunday morning? Those kinds of stories always begin with "While leaving a strip club early Sunday morning...."
Just stay away, for crying out loud. You're a target. You're huge. People want to know what you're doing. You're an adult. Your teammates depend upon you. What pieces don't you understand?
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Just stay away, for crying out loud. You're a target. You're huge. People want to know what you're doing. You're an adult. Your teammates depend upon you. What pieces don't you understand?
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And finally, there's Antonio Cromartie, New York Jet's cornerback (think hot-shot marquee player... Deion Sanders was one.... he said the position should be called deion.... does that give you a clue?) who is shown here impressing one and all with the fact that he can name all 7 of his children. He's been a busy boy, it seems:
Antonio Cromartie And His Kids - watch more funny videos
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