Usain Bolt thinks athletics will die if drug doping isn't effectively dealt with. The all-time best Jamaican sprinter is correct to identify doper-cheaters as a bane for sports - but is wrong to think that sports will die. Those casual observers that tune in every four years to the Winter or Summer Olympics will, mainly, not be up to date on the degree to which non-allowed drug taking has corrupted various events and disciplines. And, on the other hand, those keen sports fans will have by now grudgingly accepted that their favorite sports have doping - because they know the cheaters are seemingly always one step ahead of the testers - so what are they going to do, stop watching? Despite invidious drug cheating only the sports fan purist will turn away, and there aren't too many purists around... 

In fact for the sprints, many fans believe cheating is rife - and they aren't disgusted. They figure those cheaters are going to have better times, yes, which ironically will lead to more thrills and chills, but they accept the perniciousness because they know the runner still has to run the distance. Drugs are not a magic carpet ride: the steps have to be put in from start to finish.

While fair-minded folks wish doping in sports did not exist, or was a thing of the past, or was lessening - they are realists. They know that cheats will always be with us, in sports and in life. And while it may bug their ass that this is so, they will not quit watching or participating in their sport of choice.

True, the Tour de France has suffered in the wake of Lance Armstrong's sordid story - but this guy was a serial liar who blatantly lied so often that nobody, but nobody, will ever have the balls to BS right to your face like this unlikeable Texan did. He made the whole sport of elite cyclist road racing appear to be made up of 100% A1-jerks. For those cheating now, or in the future, their deeds to mislead will still be deplorable, but in a classier, more refined way - and their sport won't be impugned as being completely filled with dickweeds and deniers.

And let's face it - there are some of us who enjoy the spectacle of dopers in sports because we love to hear the reasons as to why they were found out. We can even put the dopey excuses into categories. From the boring, "Oh, I didn't know this wasn't allowed" to the buck passing "Geez, my medical team said all was ok" to the mind numbing "Really? I thought what I was taking was flax seed oil, not steroids!" to the romancing and heart rendering "I did it for love" to the, chew on this excuse for a bit, fanciful lie...based on feasting "Blame it on the Veal!"

We get the idea: the extent to which athletes, found out as short-circuiters, will prevaricate for their prevarications, is a laugh-riot. Worthy of water cooler talk. And don't we all know any publicity is good publicity?

Now watching sports on TV or via the PC is basically free (not including pay per view.) Perhaps what Bolt is worried about is that sports will lose the lucre, the loot, the dough from the paid consumer to either attend, fund, or sponsor people or events. And that could prove to be a problem, for sure. But has a sport disappeared because of this, to date?

Sports, even quite recently, have survived rotten and rampant institutionalized and mandated drug doping. Do you remember the Sochi Olympics? What a fiasco this fun-and-games show turned out to be. But haven't more than a few of us shrugged this Sochi off our shoulder, rationalizing that such over-the-top skirting of the rules is a hangover from the good old days of bad-old communism - and that things would have been worse if East Germany had run that show, and besides, that's just Vlad being mad - and oh, by the way, have you seen his ludicrous face job? Winter sports will survive Putin's putting one over on us...

In fact, down the road, if sport drug doping continues to increase, the authorities may have to throw up their hands in surrender and pass the baton - saying: do whatever you want competitors - and you the buyer - you the fan - beware.

And many of us will accept that drug doping in sports will be here to stay and some of us - the nerdish and scientific - will marvel at the ability of drug technicians and specialists from the dark side to find some new drugs, with names and ingredients no one can understand let alone pronounce - concocted to super-charge performance or at least stymie looming father time.

Usain Bolt is a great sportsman. One of the best. He could be right. Only the Lord knows how insightful he is about sprinting in particular, and sports in general, when he publicly warns us that drug doping equals the death of sports - but a mortal lad or lass has to think - and Usain - perhaps this is where you should focus on giving us teachable moments  - there is a worse form of cheating in sports that threatened to turn at least one of them into nothing more than an effete form of professional wrestling -
figure skating-in-sequins-wrestling let's call it - through its judges cheating, or its teams colluding, or both happening at the same time - f'ing fixing results. That kind of rule breaking IS beyond the pale.

​Is the University of Nevada gambling, offering 9-year old Havon Finney Jr., a football scholarship? Isn’t that institution of higher learning worried the kid is past his prime? Seriously, what the heck is going on here?

Perhaps the Nevada Wolf Pack has been blown away by the kid’s highlight reel. He’s amazingly coordinated and has great catching skills. He wears receiver gloves and sports some mighty fine ripped abs. He’s fast – he’s still in the skinny-as-a-toothpick stage, and has a cool haircut with a Mohawk tuft running front to back. Who wouldn’t want to sign the kid up? He’s just finished grade 4. For sure he’s got other-worldly talents and he has the good graces to be grateful. Havon, AKA HollywoodHav, has told his 19.8k Instagram followers: “...I love God.”

Before you wonder of the legalities, if kids, blessed or otherwise, can sign contracts, knowing there are laws stipulating a minimum age for this sort of thing, rest assured these scholarships are non-binding until the recipient signs something called a letter of intent – and for that they’ve got to be a senior in high school. But give the kid some immediate feedback. Make the offering of a scholarship like it is for the Doodle4Google artwork contest, where youngsters from elementary to high schools, if their wares are good enough, can get a $5,000 scholarship. Don’t need lawyers, parents, guardians, or God-parents for that...

Let’s leave the frightful legal mumbo-jumbo aside. Let’s turn to more horrifying facets. Even though many kids skateboard without padding, it seems scarier having little ones so young playing full-gear tackle football. Their bones are still forming...And what of the risk of concussions? Their brains are still forming...And even if Havon and his buddies are fortunate enough to avoid being concussed, if Chief of neuroradiology at Wake Forest School of Medicine, Christopher Whitlow and his team are correct, brain imaging they’ve conducted throughout a football season shows kids brains have been detrimentally altered in the playing. An estimated 3.5 million boys are playing football in America. How many might suffer traumatic brain injury?

But in the here and now, when all is peaches and cream with stardom and an injury-free career in front of him, it is clear the little guy can catch long bombs like nobody’s business. He’s got the football sense and savvy to come back to the ball, come back to the quarterback, break his pattern, when the QB is scrambling. He can catch over his shoulder and snare a pass in, one-handed. (But what is just as jaw-dropping is watching the kid quarterback(s) tossing those long bombs while sprinting out of the pocket...)
If he signs the scholarship, or someone old enough for him does (do kids know how to write their names at 9, or do they still print them?) he could save a bundle on Out-of-State tuition fees. This year they are at $21,775. Lord knows what they’ll be in about 8 years when the gaffer finished high school.

And this finishing high school thing is a small part of why this trend to offering near-babies scholarships is becoming the way of things. They want the recipient to fly right, work hard and study both on and off the field. The rest of the reasons are, not surprisingly, not so altruistic; if a kid is a phenom who looks like he might have staying power, why not get him signed on the dotted line? But (and we’re assuming, just this last once, these scholarship offers do have some serious legal bite) do these scholarship offers have an escape clause which doesn’t involve a buy out? What if Havon decides he wants to be a racing car mechanic, or driver, and thus decides university is not the best way to reach his dreams?

Or say Havon survives football through high school unscathed. He goes to the University of Nevada and blows out a knee in his first game. And doctors can’t put Humpty Dumpty together again to meet football’s exacting standards. What happens to the scholarship then? Does it go the way of the Dodo bird? Or what if Havon goes a bit Aaron Hernandez at the school and gets busted and convicted? Bye-bye scholarship. Even if he stays within society’s legal lines - what if his GPA stinks, doesn’t meet a prescribed minimum? See you, scholarship...

Suppose Head Coach, Jay Norvell, and his 21 assistant coaches (for sure a scholarship should be given to each footballer that makes the team - who can remember all the coaches’ names - and Havon should personally thank the 1 assistant that saw a few of his highlight tapes and recommended a scholarship be offered) remain there until Havon comes to the rescue. But before Havon’s second season is to start the University fires Norvell et al. The new football boss has different philosophies and cuts Havon. Say sayonara scholarship...

But for now Havon’s saying all the right things and is dutifully training his keester off, exampled by his trainer, Mike Evans, having him pushing a huge tire that’s gotta outweigh Havon by 5 times. And Mr. Evans seems to be a foreseer. He describes Havon and another kid: “Genetically they have the size of pro athletes.”
​
And major-league university and NFL football dreams are formed from such pint-sized kids...

​A wet dream of orgasmic proportions is how one announcer described a Cristiano Ronaldo goal.

But what of the dry nightmare tax-evasion accusation the fantabulous Portuguese footballer faces?

Words cannot express Rocket Ronaldo’s greatness but soccer commentators have jobs to do and their truly difficult trick is to NOT use superlatives already in play to describe this guy, this forward, who, in his own words, grew up poor. Thus we hear tributes like:

“Confidence personified. The magic remains. Stunning, absolutely stunning. One of the best goals he’s ever scored. Absolutely sensational. Brilliant. We are witnessing an exhibition tonight. Not many players can do that. An absolute stunner. Oh my word. Top drawer. Can you believe the genius of this man? Unstoppable. Fine individual strike. An invaluable talent. This man can’t stop scoring. Did he really just do that? As outrageous a goal as you are going to see in any league. Not too far out for him.”

But is Cristiano’s being accused of shortchanging Spain some €14.7m (£12.95m) between 2011 and 2014 far out? Or is this just sort of a “misunderstanding? But, if not - if he is guilty – well, why would he ever do such a thing? The superstar had more than enough money during the period in question. Would it be due to greediness, or might it be some deep, dark thoughts of retribution and revenge he harbors towards authorities in that country he’s played in - in trying to “take it to the man” via tax fraud?

He’s to appear in the Pozuelo de Alarcon court this July 31st   to determine if he is charge-worthy.
For sure, if he is eventually found guilty and has to pay a fine, he can shake his Nike piggy bank which pays him, in a lifetime-contract, a cool 1 billion bucks. Or he could dip into his salaried funds of 50 million dollars annually. Or, failing these options, he could hold a raffle: pay my fine – betcha at least 1 fan of his 275 million social media followers would cough up the needed dough.
​
275 million athletic supporters can’t be wrong, because, besides being one of the best soccer players of all time, he seems to be on the right side, on his Twitter account at least, of apparently supporting causes like donating blood (there’s a picture of him with a sign that says donate blood) or apparently feeling angst over global refugees and feeling anxious over not enough Saving-the-Children going on to suit him.
And surely he can’t be nearly as corrupt as your basic, wedded-to-entitlement-and-lucre, money grabbing and grubbing FIFA kleptocrat is, can he?  

Perhaps we should cut him some slack – until we know the complete story. Perhaps Spain’s Agencia Tributaria is charging The Sultan of the Stepover out of bitterness, knowing his net worth, estimated at 375 million as of 2016, is a healthy economic barometer, when compared to the Great Recession that has wrecked Spain and its economic barometers since 2008. Perhaps the state legal service, which is the stick of that country’s tax doings, is shelling tax flack at him because he’s better than all their players. Perhaps one of their tax bureaucrats hates soccer and especially detests how the slightest mishap has a player writhing as though he’s been trampled over by the 3rd Panzer Division. Or maybe the bureaucrat simply goofed in his or her mathematical assumptions and computations.

Or, much likelier still, given Spain’s being ranked (the lower the number the higher the perceived level of corruption) as 58th out of 175 countries being measured – has a tax authority simply looking for a bribe to make this whole unseemly affair go away...

No matter what Spain’s role is, Ronaldo, AKA the little bee “abelhinha”, should look at replacing, or getting, a financial advisor familiar with overt tax laws in Spain which consist of tax regulations (including – and this is a partial list: economic activities tax; personal income tax; and wealth tax), tax agency regulations (including Acts, Royal Decrees, Ministerial Orders, Resolutions, and Instructions) other regulations of interest, international taxation regulations, regulations pending or

Geez, starting to feel woozy here, starting to feel Ronaldo’s pain. CR7 you’d best get a financial fixer and finagler who can deal with Spain’s covert skullduggery and behind the scenes tom-foolery.
That would have saved him from his presently being thought as somewhat of a cad to, if he’s found culpable, of being ultimately found as a criminal.

Should the latter be the case he can compare tax fraud felonies with rival Lionel Messi, who had HIS tax-fraud conviction upheld by Spain’s Supreme Court. Should the former be the situation Cristiano Ronaldo can share boo hoo stories with José Mourinho, who Spanish authorities think burned them for €3.3m (£2.9m) while he was managing Real Madrid, or Ronnie can sip some weak tea and do a whole sob sister oh-so-sad-story thingy with Colombia’s Radamel Falcao, who Spain think hosed them for £4.8m or hey, Cris can share a few stiff drinks and shout a few stronger protestations over the horror of it all with Argentina’s Javier Mascherano, who the tax office in...Spain...of all places - thinks tried to pull the wool over their eyes to the tune of £1.3m or Ronaldo, if you haven’t yet fainted from the tax-impositional indignity enveloping you, could shoot the s—t with Spaniard Xabi Alonso who, Spanish tax authorities believe hasn’t been kosher in minding his Ps and Qs when it comes to remitting to them their considered fair due in duties.
​
Two things are for sure. 1) The Spanish Tax Authorities are taxed to the max in ferreting Euros out of bedroom bureaus and 2) Ronaldo won’t get a decent night’s sleep, or a randy night wet dream orgasmic evening, until this tax fraud caper-case is put to bed.

​Way to go, John Daly. With your latest golf victory you’ve proven that a serious serial smoker, boozing passer-outer at Hooters, junk food jonser, zooming through multiple red lights in-a-row driver, and and a fanatic despiser of fitness - can reach the top.

You’re a role model to zillions.

In winning the Insperity Invitational on the Champions Tour you’ve inspired millions, ok, thousands, ok hundreds, ok tens of folks to consider watching your career progress, despite you wearing lewd, crude, and goodness gracious god-awful-retina-razing outlandish golf slacks.

Clearly a man-god surpassing mortal men was proven when, on Saturday in August of 2015, one of your lungs collapsed, you were sped to the hospital, but the next day, like a Phoenix, you returned to play out the tournament in Canton, Miss.  

And clearly a Zeus are you – who else has had as many scintillating sexual escapades, including having four wives – and is considering marrying yet again? And clearly, too, you are a criminal-cad for assaulting wife number 2, Bettye Fulford.

Basically John’s a portly huffing and puffing, 40 butts per day, 50-year old senior, who, with his first win, 14-under, on the seniors’ tour, has awoken legions to that tour’s existence and re-awoken a horde of fans to his legendary high-wire act of cavorting and careening through life. Fellow professional friends of his were so pleased for him they showered the big man in champagne after being the best on The Woodlands, in Texas.

He’s come a long way - and yet has come full circle. Back in 1978, as a 12-year old, he won the Lake of the Woods Golf Course Men’s championship prompting that course to ban kids from entering that adult contest ever again.
​
Not sure if he needs the $322,500 cheque from his latest heroics but let’s assume he does. John admits he still gambles. He loves the slots. He’s even played a slot machine which was $5,000 for each pull. (John says he lost $600,000 in that session.) That’s his gambling vice of choice, though blackjack comes into play. While Vegas may be the destination for most, John says he’s not fussy: he’ll gamble anywhere...He might not be losing hundreds of thousands per year, but if he’s still rolling the dice as it were, he’s got to be losing a fairly pretty penny, though he says he won 1.8 million at Bally’s - in one day - a few years back.

So how did Daly fight the long odds against his winning again? Well, none other than Tiger Woods gives us the scoop. “Long John”, it turns out, was - is - awash in raw, natural talent proven by winning his first Major, the US PGA, in his first try.

Folks adore the “Wild Thing” because of his vulnerabilities and frank willingness to confess and somewhat confront his addictions. They also adore his counter-intuitive thoughts, like this beauty, expressed in an interview with Howard Stern a couple of years back: practicing causes imperfection when I do it...I suck when I practice.

He’s been fighting the practicing of golf thing since he was around 4-years old. He admits, like Bubba Watson, that he’s his own teacher – save for studying Jack Nicklaus golfing tip cartoons. The “Lion” says his toddler, a two and a half year old son back in 2015, has hit more practice golf balls in his life than Dad has in his. Gotta, sorta, love this guy, huh? John also jokes “Caffeine and nicotine, to me, equal protein.”

More insights in the Stern interview ensued. Talking about one of his wives, John came up with this gem: “We love each other just a little bit more than we hate each other...” His second wife lied about her age – understating it by 10 years. He says that cocaine and cigarettes are the two hardest things to quit. He asked Howard Stern if he could smoke during their interview. Howard also offered him a beer, John didn’t say no...He was given a Heineken Light, took a big slug, and announced “this isn’t bad.” He says 18 shots of scotch ended up being the impetus behind the invention of 18 holes of golf.

And who else can sink a 10 footer curving putt with a cigarette hanging from his mouth?

And who else may be as smart as Daly, if his dad is any indication? (Smartness isn’t the same thing as common sense, obviously.) One source writes his father, Jim, built and repaired nuclear power facilities.
​
Yet as we marvel at John’s highs and lows - heck he’s had more ups and downs than an Xpogo stunt team, has been his own worst enemy, seems consumed by his bad lifestyle habits, and apparently appears to be a train wreck just waiting to happen - does demonstrate in spades - that these traits are SO NOT marvelous - if we, looking for guidance, are wishing to emulate star-shown characteristics. But now he has kids, and, as we age, we tend to moderate our lifestyles – so maybe these two factors, plus his latest win, can put John in a sturdier station of life leading to a somewhat normal, sane...semblance of...uh, something or other.

It’s kinda fun and a total eye-opener to read and see of John’s over-the-top idiosyncrasies, proclivities, and inanities. Even his mixed messages real, and imagined, are pretty amusing. He has been commercially associated with both TrimSpa and Dunkin’ Donuts and has ventured that such a contradiction isn’t nearly so profound as his proffered idea of publicizing AA on one hand, and Miller Lite on the other.

And we can howl in laughter at this pearl. Asked about where he finds his wives and women, he ripostes he didn’t find his wives in church. Gotta say again - gotta - sorta - love this guy. Sure hope he can keep it sort of together, maybe to write another book as a continuance to the 2007 tome titled:

My Life in and out of the Rough: The Truth Behind All That Bull**** You Think You Know About Me.
​
We’d sure like to find out in new, pen-to-paper pages, what else this larger-than-life fellow could prove to the world.

​Aah, the certainty of youth. Eugenie Bouchard should focus on her career and stop slamming Maria Sharapova. Eugenie is now 23. Professionally she peaked in 2014. She’s a has-been who, though refreshingly candid and well spoken in both French and English, misses the mark in calling for Sharapova to be banned for LIFE in admitting to taking Meldonium.

This drug aids the heart. One drug expert, Don Catlin, doesn’t think it is a performance enhancer and the USA, normally anal about drugs, doesn’t declare it illegal. So, while the International Tennis Federation (ITF) tribunal screwed Sharapova over – sentencing her to a 2 year ban – for using it, Sharapova points out that the drug was legal for years before the rules changed and that she brought up her transgression in a press conference and was partially vindicated by the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS) when that body reduced her time-out to 15 months.

So the Russian born tennis star – a 5-time grand slam champion – who has been ranked number 1 – has to take this flack from 59th ranked Eugenie? Really? Bouchard should know not every issue is either/or; black or white. There’s lots of gray in life with choices, circumstances, and issues - and all are not as clear cut as they might seem at first glance.

Of course almost as bad as being too quick to judgment is the resorting to playing the victim. And Sharapova shamefully does so:

"...I hope the ITF and other relevant tennis anti-doping authorities will study what these other Federations did, so that no other tennis player will have to go through what I went through."

For heaven’s sake get some perspective. It’s not like you ran through the gauntlet. You’re not a present-day female Christian martyr nor are you a modern heroine Joan of Arc. Maria, you are, simply, someone caught outside of recently changed tennis rules on drug taking – exacerbated by you being woefully unaware that America – the place you’ve basically lived in for years now – has its Food and Drug Administration (FDA) - and they have never approved Meldonium for the U.S.
​
Meldonium is also known as Mildronate. The World Anti-Doping Agency banned it because it found, in their hallowed opinion, some people were abusing it.

For those, though, with traces of it, WADA deems that “a no fault finding.” Sharapova says she’s taken the drug for years because she lacks magnesium in her body and because her family history features diabetes.

Let’s leave diabetes out of this, let’s look at magnesium. A lack of it increases susceptibility to, among other things - 2 big no-nos so far as being an elite tennis player is concerned: muscle cramps, and chronic pain. To help retain magnesium drink less caffeine, drink less pop, eat fewer donuts and other junk foods full of refined sugar, and partake in no more than 1 alcoholic drink per day.  That should help us, and Maria maintain healthy magnesium stores...

Maria seems to have a healthy store of ego, however. Asked to respond to Bouchard’s blast, she replied: “...I am way above that.”

Er, OK, then. Good to know.

In not rising to the bait Sharapova isn’t showing much fighting spirit. She doesn’t appear too confident in her defense of this over-the-counter-in-some-foreign-countries drug. If she feels Bouchard’s opinion is beneath contempt – she should say so. Put Eugenie in her place. Eugenie is not a big star, though she has flashes – Maria should tell her to work on her lob and leave the rhetorical grenade-attempted aces to someone of more stature – like Serena Williams, say.

Here’s what Maria should have said.

Eugenie, work on your modeling career ‘cause your tennis one is going nowhere – despite you digging in at 9 years old - and despite your family having enough bucks to send the whole lot of you to Florida so you could get lessons from Nick Saviano. You STILL have no offense or defense despite Tennis Canada’s naming you their Female Player of the Year for 4 YEARS straight...Get Vogue on the phone. Or IMG Models. Tweet the barmy “The Genie Army” of same. If you must play tennis, fix your personality and ban the brat act at the very least. Stop being a prima donna and start growing up. Realize that outside of yourself, in your own bubble, none of us is perfect. Don’t worry about following in my footsteps: you can’t fill the shoes. Tune out and amp up your Twitter account – for that’s where your fan base lies. Supporters may think you’re hot in pics but they are not athletic supporters – on the tennis court your game is colder than your personality. Or hit balls with Justin Bieber – you made a Belieber out of him in the “Desert Smash” didn’t you?

My diatribe above, aside, I sympathize with you and the concussion you suffered from slipping at the U.S Open near, or in, the locker room. I understand the area was not well lit – said to be dark, actually. I slipped up in being out of date, and being in the dark too, in not reading a missive WADA sent to athletes about this – now banned drug substance – taken by hundreds of thousands of people in Eastern Europe. I’ve missed 15 months because of my faux pas and you’ve struggled to climb back to respectable elite tennis since your misfortune. Since then, you’ve been struggling with an abdominal injury and I have been wrestling with the fact that I’m not getting any younger (I muffed, missed 13 of 16 break points in my first tourney back in the semi finals at the Porsche Grand Prix.) Both of us know we have to be physically and mentally fit to have a chance at any success at this level. Perhaps we are both human, perhaps we have made mistakes - unforced errors - and perhaps both of us should support one another - instead of the likes of you issuing blanket statements detailing on a subject you clearly know less than the square root of zero about.  You didn’t want to slip up and I didn’t want to screw up.

Hope you win, in your dreams, a Grand Slam one day.
​
Sincerely,
Maria.

​Just how will Aaron Hernandez’s 4-year-old child daughter ever come to grips with her murderous, suicidal daddy?

Her father came from a good family and wasted his life. He, despite nurturing from coaches, turned into a violent criminal. He has no excuses, he totally screwed up, and has now wrecked more than a few lives, and families.

He turned into a pathetic man and had turned to friends of dubious character. He smoked a lot of pot, and took Angel Dust (PCP). Both are said to have made him wary and a bit crazy. This could help explain why he killed Odin Lloyd. Plus Newsweek reports that Odin knew that Aaron was bisexual, and the football star was loathe for that fact to come out.

Amazingly, if the Newsweek analysis turns out to be true, it means that despite being educated at the University of Florida, Hernandez decided he’d rather risk going to jail if found guilty of killing Lloyd, than risk public awareness of the fact that he liked men sexually. With a mind so screwed up to weigh pros and cons that way, it only goes to show that Hernandez was an idiot. Aaron is rumored to have left a $50,000 watch to his alleged prison boy-toy love, 22-year old fellow convict, Kyle Kennedy, a guy in jail for a knife-point robbery that netted him $189 big ones. Another idiot.

(Even more idiotic is how some ex-Gator teammates are reacting to his suicide. They’re sad and sympathetic.)

Bristol, Connecticut was Aaron’s hometown. Besides being put on the map of public opinion due to its now infamous son, Bristol is the home of ESPN. Anyway, there Hernandez was known as “our Golden Boy.” A man playing with children – that refers to sports – not as an insinuation of improper sexual relationships...

And now, thanks to his hanging, his brain will be researched for concussion symptoms. Let’s hope, even if it turns out that Hernandez had a concussion, or concussions, with all the traumatic symptoms of dizziness, confusion, nausea, and headaches that arise from same - that such findings do not detract from the huge fact that Aaron was a total prick.

Aaron came from a strong family. He didn’t have to become a goof. Dennis Hernandez was a caring dad who coached his son in little league. Aaron abided by father’s structure and reportedly his dad’s ways: “...kept him anchored.” Unfortunately, Dennis died after hernia surgery – and unfortunately Aaron lost his way, as Tiger Woods did, when his father passed...

Aaron tattooed his father’s “advice” onto his arms – yet thereafter rebelled against authority. Somehow, however, mother, Terri, and brother, D.J., unlike Aaron, survived Dennis’s death without going off the deep end. D.J. will be head football coach at Ledyard High School, in Connecticut and admits that his and Aaron’s reaction to their father’s death was “...completely different.”

While D.J. is obviously a role model who deserves sympathy for being highlighted because of Aaron’s  acts, we should not excuse him and give him a mulligan when he resorts to euphemisms in discussing his younger brother:

“...He’s in a situation because he decided to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, with the wrong people.”

In a situation? What kind of depiction of Aaron’s life is that? Until his suicide Aaron was behind bars for LIFE. That’s not a situation it’s a life sentence. Tell it like it is...

Foolish behavior, such as flunking marijuana drug tests while at university, and thuggish behavior, such as (apparently) sucker punching the Manager of the Swamp restaurant, breaking his left eardrum – over a bill – which teammate Tim Tebow tried to settle – shows just how myopic and ethically vacant are those Florida Gators who reacted with compassion to his suicide.
 
So why did pro football’s, New England, draft this guy, given his reputation? Because the guy could flat out play, number one, and because Bill Belichick, the Patriots coach, trusted and believed in the words and ways of Florida Gators coach, Urban Meyer, number two. So background checks faded to the background.  Hernandez probably helped his case too, wooing the Patriots in a letter stating he was willing to undergo bi-weekly drug tests in his rookie season...

And, as skill would have it, Hernandez, with 45 catches in year one, 2010, set the new Patriots receptions mark for tight ends. Life was looking up.

In 2012 he signed a 5-yr, 40 million dollar extension after proving he could excel with his great running and catching attributes. He had everything to live for, heck his daughter was born in November 2012...yet so did Odin Lloyd have everything to live for – who Hernandez murdered in 2013.

Lest anyone think Aaron got a raw deal in his trial, recall that Alexander Bradley claims his right eye was shot out because of Aaron Hernandez, and recall too, that Aaron shot at a vehicle in Boston because of a tiff over a spilled drink - AKA “The Spilled Drink Case” - earlier in a bar.

Clearly Hernandez is the most wretched wanker in this piece. But honorable mention must go to a sports agent, Brian Murphy. He used to represent Hernandez. Take his tweet.  “Absolutely no chance he took his own life. Chico was not a saint, but my family and I loved him and he would never take his own life.”

Chico (that was his nickname) was not a saint? Isn’t that underplaying Aaron’s atrocious acts by about a million points? Why is an agent like Murphy so lacking in passing reasoned, thoughtful, sane judgment? In the sports agent world, if one has a paying client - no matter if that client is a naff to put it mildly, or a devil to put it accurately - does this mean decency and astuteness when opining on depraved criminals, by said agent(s) go by the wayside? Money corrupts, huh?

As for the 4-year-old daughter? She’ll probably take cues from family elders. Some don’t believe the suicide explanation.  And perhaps, delusional until the end, they can take some solace in Massachusetts legal finery: With his suicide, some legal experts propound that, under Mass. Law – Aaron dies an “innocent man” because his appeal(s) had not been heard...

​Has the world turned finally? Has facial cosmetic surgery met its Waterloo? With Melanie Griffith’s undoing of her facial enhancements, perhaps people of all stripes and sexes will realize that facial “improvements” by medical hands – for beauty and beautiful purposes – is a detriment.

We, the uneducated, the gawping, gaping bystanders, have seen the pictures of starlets and have wondered: why did Meg Ryan, Mary Tyler Moore, Nicole Kidman decide to wreck their looks...in the quest for a fleeting chance that perhaps they’d look a week or two younger than their actual ages?

Courtney Cox.  Donatella Versace. Joan Van Ark – look completely different after their “work.” But if they, and we, are looking for changes and betterments to our beings, isn’t it more prudent to look inwards – at our personalities and thoughts – to alter these, than to mess around with skin deep, surface-only moderations and alterations such as puffed up lips, or nose reduction-lob-off jobs?
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Perhaps these mishaps of Melanie Griffith’s visage voyage of artificial change will hit us witnesses where it’s real: we age, let us age naturally, without regret or fret and with a confidence and outlook that makes us proud to be how old we are. Sure, wrinkles and crow’s feet abound – but do these linear changes change the personas we’ve become and forged through ages of experience and learning for the worst?

Why risk wisdom gained for a face of liverwurst? Why do a Pete Burns plastic surgery horror show? Or a comedian Carrot top one? (Carrot Top says he just looks like he does because of makeup.) Why search for artificiality when reality will do genuinely fine? What’s the deal with trying to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes, thinking you’ve fooled them with a metaphorical bald pate comb over?

And let’s not even broach the subject of face tattoos, or piercings, ok?

All of us somewhat self aware know intrinsically that, basically, with time cynicism and jaundice coupled with biases arise – and that rejuvenation is called for. But such a renovation and improvement deals with matters of soul and of sense, not to do with removing beauty marks or pock marks.

Ok, let us, put pock marks and facial acne into another category. (And reconstructive surgery after an accident or birth defect into a separate category as well.) Many of us, as teenagers, were afflicted with facial acne and the desire to remove what society casts as an aspersion upon that person, seems warranted.

But to alter a perfectly, by reasonable standards – and while no one can define what reasonable means – we all know, deep down, what it entails – face to a more “perfect” face – is a disgrace. And, unfortunately the butcher works of years now with celebrities before and after pictures gives us onlookers and wonderers a first-hand, ok albeit from glossy magazines – view of the concept of COMEUPPANCE. Madonna, is almost recognizable here after having (possibly) cheek implants and skin tightening.

Astoundingly, there are derivatives of facial cosmetic surgery. Let’s say, for the moment, and moment is a key descriptive here, given the trend in polite circles to adhere and revere something called gender fluidity, that you’re a guy. But you are not happy with your face – because you look, say, a tad too manly.

No problem! March yourself down to the nearest locale that performs something called FACIAL FEMINIZATION.

I can’t nearly describe all that such entails, but a bloke, specialist Dr. Philip Young, can – and does:
“...brow bone reduction, tracheal shave, brow lift, orbital bone reduction, lip lift, rhinoplasty, vy lip advancement, cheek implants, hairline lowering, chin reduction, permanent lip implants, eyelift, eyelid crease formation.”

But beware, not so much of the transgender transformation cock-of-the-walk, but of the fact that, either Dr. Young or who ever put together his website, can’t write English adequately.

Get this – “Perhaps one of the most important things that make us unique and special for you in your transition from male to female is Dr. Young’s Understand on Facial Beauty.”

See the word “Understand?” not only is the use of it wrongly capitalized, it’s the wrong phraseology. It should be “understanding.”

Anyway,

Back to facial disfigurement(s). Don’t take my words here for alarmist, doomsday pronunciations of all that can go wrong with facial beauty surgical enhancements. Go to Google. Type: Facial Cosmetic Surgery gone wrong.

As of April 14th 2017, about 2,240,000 results will appear. This is not a trend, folks, it’s an avalanche of bad news of botched up jobs in the quest for quintessential deity-like  looks, turning out to, um, uh – Melanie Griffith.

But Griffith has seen the light (having heard unkind comments of her facial changes.) Could this actress start a trend where people, who have had awful results from facial cosmetic enhancements, try to undo the damages that have been done?

If so, this could be the greatest role she’ll ever play...

Of course, let’s not get carried away with this reversal of facial cosmetic surgery: word is, some women from Texas are paying mega thousands to look like Ivanka Trump...

​Soccer, besides being a feeble sport, is a forgiving one. Boa Esporte has signed a goalie who had his secret lover tortured, cut up, and fed to his Rottweilers, to a two-year deal.  Should be no shock: Bruno Fernandes de Souza, who spent six years in jail for this atrocity, says he’s not a bad guy...adding, he’s got a clear conscience.

OK.

The soccer club, in inking this former captain, this ingrate, didn’t mention his ordering his mistress’s murder, but did stress the “dignity of work.” They also did not give kudos to a cousin of his whom, reportedly, gave Bruno up. Apparently Boa Esporte’s credo of work-and-toil outweighs unbelievable evil, and apparently Boa’s emphasis on an honest day’s work IS the cure-all for criminality on a colossal scale.  

OK.

Eliza Samudio didn’t want to abort Bruno’s baby to be, so, between being tortured and fed to his pet dogs, she was strangled, and beaten. Her undigested parts were later entombed in concrete. (Forensic remains are nowhere to be found but authorities are pretty sure she’s dead.)

It’s hard to believe this man was a quality goalkeeper, worthy of consideration for the Brazilian 2014 World Cup squad. He probably had money. But child support arguments drove him to arrange for her death. In fairness to Souza, he wasn’t the only one charged. His wife, an ex-cop, and five other immoral individuals were also booked. Does this make this better or worse?

Moving along...

So, should the world admire Boa Esporte for its act of forgiveness, or abhor it, for its act of depravity? Before we address that question, let’s ask how Bruno only served six years for his malicious crime. What’s with Brazil’s Federal Constitution legal framework? Well, it appears that country’s legal system, like most worldwide, seems to slide and slither, and resultantly screw with the sentient sensibilities of its local society, on technicalities and minutiae. He was originally sentenced to 22 years (a soft penance, considering his crime, if there ever was one) when his lawyer(s) cast light on one factor: the courts had not ruled on his appeal.

So he was released. But he’s not completely in the clear – at least in his own mind. In fact, he’s somewhat indignant, if these words have been translated accurately, when he complained: “people run from me because of what happened in the past.” Really, what’s not to like about a guy who turned up the music several notches, at a weekend retreat he and his wife visited, so his victim's cries of pain would not be heard?

So, perhaps the Brazilian legal system, so remiss in hearing his judicial plea and plight, should arrange free counseling and therapy for the 32-year old. And perhaps, too, the world, after learning of Boa Esporte’s unbelievable act of acceptance of this dickweed-DEVIL, should arrange free counseling and therapy for that club’s president, Rone Moraes da Costa who has smugly pontificated:

“In Brazil we do not condemn people to death or to prison forever. Therefore, when a prisoner is released, they can find means of forming part of society...”

And perhaps, finally, the universe should tele-transport team owner, Rafael Gois Silva Xavier, to another alternate dimension, far, far away from all living beings...as the owner believes “...He deserves another opportunity.”

Must our global society muddle on without any standards at all, moral or otherwise? Must moral relativism rule the planet here and for evermore? What possible lessons can be passed down to our children from this woeful tale?

No answer(s) for the above questions.

Boa Esporte has been plying its trade in Varginha, a town a smidgen north and west of Rio. It is known for coffee exportation and for – and this isn’t BS – UFO’s (two sighted to date) flittering about. So the town is already jacked on caffeine and whacked on weirdness so it’s no shock, then, that Bruno should fit right in...

Yet, as it so happens, the team - before Bruno, committed his heinous act - had plans to move back to an earlier hometown, Ituiutaba - a town know for cattle production, a burb a bit more north and west of Rio, a bit more into the boonies, where...perhaps...the palpable protests from other parts of Brazil (good grief, Chapecoense, whose team was decimated in a plane crash en route to Colombia, must be literally cringing at such an ugly public turn of events for the reputation of Brazilian soccer specifically, and that country’s mores, generally) over this club’s nonchalance and insouciance in hiring THIS DOG of a MAN - will be muted...

Is this a story of redemption? It doesn’t appear so, because Bruno seems more concerned about getting the old career on track than he does with getting his ethical essences in order. Is it a story of blind stupidity? Could be. Boa Esporte seems, with this employee acquisition, stupider than a sloth willingly entering a spelling bee contest for grade six brainiacs - but stupid or dim, or dull, or dense doesn’t quite fit the gamut and girth of what this happening entails.

No, it seems to be a story of willful negligence, of across-the-board-and-bored cynical malevolence on the part of the disgusting goalie and the repulsive professional outfit that hired him. It’s a sick story – with no good ending, with a no moral of the story, no it’s worse than that – it’s a story where we had better not pass judgment given de Souza's head space with the whole thing. He was heard to have said to the Guardian Media:
​
“DUDE, WHAT HAPPENED, HAPPENED.”

​Only an institution as stupid as a school would ban kids from playing tag. Kids could get hurt so California’s Gold Ridge Elementary School nixed it. And given that the school is located in the city of Folsom, perhaps tyke transgressors will be sent to Folsom State Prison for a look see at what might become of them if they, you know, push, shove, trip, slap, or tap another child a bit too hard for the school brass’s liking.

But before Gold Ridge sends ‘em to the slammer they’ll brandish these barbs:
“If a student breaks the rule, they’ll receive a warning, then a referral and then a parent-teacher conference...”

Firstly, everybody understands a warning. Secondly, if a referral means snitching – well, is it ok to ask - - - just why do kids get tattletaled on – when illegal aliens in the state of California do not? Lastly, isn’t it a bit over the top to hold a conference just because one kid tried to tag another in the school yard? A conference? Why not go whole hog and hold a summit?

Can’t the school see the benefits of tag? It’s been around for ages, requires no equipment, keeps the kids active, and is usually a lot of fun.

In the USA there has been at least one death from playing tag. Back in 2008 a 10-year old boy in Nebraska died when a small piece of metal impaled in his skull. But as tragic as that was for the kid, his family, and friends he was playing with – one death out of a zillion instances of participating in “you’re it!” sounds like a pretty good safety-to-fatality ratio, especially if, as has been opined, one Alfred J. Tag, an Oxford University professor in 1913 created the game...That’s a lot of non-deaths for a sport now considered ban worthy.

Gold Ridge is but one educational institution. But stupidity did not originate, when it comes to tag, there. Consider the case of the US National Association for Sport and Physical Education which declares that, among other features, tag must incorporate “cooperation” into its realm.

So, one sentient in matters and manners of tag, might presume, if cooperation is essential, that those being chased by the person who is tagged, must immediately go along to get along - cooperate - and sit down or stand still – so they can immediately be touched and thereby tagged. Perhaps a sitting circle, where the person next to you, tags you, working clockwise or counterclockwise, would work best for such an idiotic idea.

Gold Ridge has a district spokesperson, Daniel Thigpen. He revealed the true dumb rationale behind banning tag. Paraphrasing his words:“specific behaviour problems need specific solutions.”

BUT, Daniel, a GENERAL, ACROSS-THE-BOARD nullification of a kiddie activity is not specific solution, duh.
 
In fairness to sub-national entity, California, and civic-municipal entity, Folsom, they’re not the first political clusters to ham-handidly and haphazardly rule out kids having fun. In Toronto Ontario, a few years back, the Earl Beatty public school totally banned balls. Parents with some balls of their own vehemently protested this asinine act and the school sheepishly brought back balls of the nerf, tennis, and basketball varieties.

But let’s, for a moment, tag and slag - you’re it – on Principal David Frankel - for his welcoming message that (click the link above, or take this writer’s word for it) showed a surfeit of euphemisms, and a  pomposity of verbosity.

He also, perhaps unknowingly – let’s not kick the can with this fellow completely - revealed just how rank and low standards go for teaching standards at Gold Ridge Elementary when he said: “Gold Ridge is fortunate to have an experienced, dedicated, and professional staff.”

Note to David; it should not be “fortunate” to have these qualities with your staff, it should be de rigueur.

Back to bans. Some bans – or very strict supervision – on child activities - make sense. For example, trampolines yield a far greater ratio of spine and head injuries to youngsters than do playing sports like soccer. (And apparently 60% of injuries occur while landing ON, not off, the trampoline. So even strict spotter supervision is inadequate...)

But other bans, such as Weber Middle School of NY State banning cartwheels, unless a coach watches over the budding gymnast, make no sense. (And note - this is a middle school, not an elementary one.)

In other jurisdictions kids’ antics such as red Rover have been kyboshed and even the rather sedentary, but oh so fun and, yes, somewhat competitive, Musical Chairs – has come under scrutiny for lack of inclusiveness.

Life has risks. Part of growing up is in taking risks. Yes, kids get hurt, break bones, suffer sprains, even worse sometimes. But to ban for all, an activity because a few get hurt, is ludicrous.

Perhaps, though, some of these schools aren’t interested in so much as putting a protective wrap around their young because of safety concerns as they are but, instead, coddling them in safe-zones to protect their schools from lawsuits from hellish-helicopter parents of Johnny or Susie when they invariably demand a pound of fiscal flesh because their kid fell off the swing or slide - or whatever. If so, that’s unfortunate.

But, generally speaking, for a school, principal, or teacher, to be liable for a law suit – they must have shown negligence. And, generally speaking, for the parents of a child who injured another child to be eligible, to be sued successfully, it must be proved that their kid willfully and maliciously intended to hurt the victim.
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Hey! But let’s leave the law and lawyering for another day, save for this thought: if ONE SPECIFIC lawyer action – behavior - causes needless pain and nonsensical injury, let’s ban ALL lawyers...

​Let's tag them.

​MMA fighter Georges St-Pierre is returning to battle after 3+ years. Is this wise? He’s got the titles, the money, the fame, is thought of as a class act – and he risks his health and hale name, for what? And why?

And he’s not working his way back to elite form fighting tomato cans. He starts scrapping at the top, facing UFC middleweight champion, Michael Bisping, this year. And St-Pierre would be moving up one heavier weight class to boot. Michael loves that factor. Neither are spring chickens. St-Pierre is 35; Bisping is 38.

It was back in December 2013 that Georges decided to walk away from mixed martial arts, wanting a “normal life.” One supposes the normal life - for Georges training, teaching, and travelling all over the world, was too pedestrian, too humdrum, and so he’s coming back. But will he, having not fought competitively for 42+ months hurt his chances - forget success and winning - to surviving: mentally and physically, health somewhat intact?

A big reason for vacating his welterweight title was his inability to sleep at night. He sounded like he was one burnt-out warrior. When sleep doesn’t come easy to a man whose physical conditioning is always near peak, when your body should naturally go to sleep from a happy, well deserved exhaustion, that body is telling you: take a different path.

But now he’s back on warpath. And his news conference with Bisping, the latter who showed up 30 minutes late, pissing off Dana White, President of the Ultimate Fighting Championship, on Friday March 3rd, confirms it. Like any fight contestants, they traded the requisite insults jabbing at the other's mental and physical toughness and bravery – with Bisping, once arriving, telling George “to shut the f—k up” but GSP had one huge new truth for his fans (after accusing Bisping of still being drunk from the previous evening)

He’s overhauling his fighting style.

He talks of a new GSP fighting version.

But is it possible to recreate oneself after so many years of doing things a certain way? Can an old dog learn new tricks? He says he’s striving for the ultimate combination “the perfect peak” of athleticism, knowledge, and wisdom.

Undoubtedly he’s talked all of this through with his management and training team(s). They all know he came back in 2012 after an 18 month layoff due to injury - but that was 5 years ago. Gotta wonder, however, what the coterie’s final vote was. And do they want this to happen for Georges’s sake - or do they have their own personal, career motives in play here too? For in helping George fight 15 world title fights (out of 27 bouts – with 25 wins and 2 losses) they were also at the apex(s) of their crafts...

So, for better or worse, GSP is returning to the cage. He doesn’t seem completely driven by ego in deciding this. Sure, he’s driven to success but one gets the feeling it is for the sport and not so much for his vanity. Heck, on his way up the ladder he worked as a garbage man, hardly a job for a bloke concerned about “appearances.” Thus his comeback could be seen as one based on the sport and not on the self.

Ok, he’s got a bit of an ego. Ok, maybe a lot of an ego. He says the fact that his comeback attempt has never been done before excites and motivates him.

You know, Georges, aka “Rush”, if you want a meaningful, motivational role in the sport, why not act as its better angel, its conscious? Perhaps you could look into allegations of illegal doping within it. You’ve called it “...a freaking joke.” Might you be able to clear things up? (This is not to say St-Pierre isn’t against additives. He takes supplements). And, if another idea is needed, why not continue with your charity work like your prior deeds with CIBC and children’s charities in Canada, for example?

Back to the nitty-gritty. He returns with a multi-fight contract negotiated with UFC with his first contest slated for July 2017, during International Fight Week, in Las Vegas. UFC President White’s pleased – he refers to GSP as “The King of Pay-Per-View.”

Anyway...Both fighters are getting a pretty payday with this battle.

Before he quit, Georges had won 12 in a row. Bisping says Georges misses this kind of limelight. Let’s assume Bisping’s correct. And here’s another big; WHY? If Georges comes back, and gets his pre-fight build up of fame and adoration, then muffs the fight – he’ll forever be known as the guy WHO SHOULD NOT HAVE COME BACK. That’s a legacy nobody would want. Obviously he’s willing to take that risk to his reputation, heading into the Octagon, back to fighting it out in 750 square feet of testosterone-filled space; it’s basically back to the future for GSP. Let’s hope he doesn’t end up flat on his back.

Bisping, for his part, is 30-7 with 16 knockouts...He’s won his last 5 fights. And Bisping’s gotta win - the pressure’s all on him because if he loses, his detractors will rip him, saying he couldn’t even beat a guy coming back from a 3 year hiatus. Michael is also coming back from having a knee “cleaned up” with a torn meniscus...but he’s full of confidence, bravado - for sure, BS at least - when he declared he could go out on an all-night bender and still beat GSP the next day.

Benders or no benders, currently GSP is the betting favorite to beat Bisping...
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But this is a sure bet. Whoever loses will have his career bend – and will have his character be bent out of shape for good.