From a winner to a whiner: The story of Lance Armstrong

            Just when you thought Lance Armstrong was getting it, his old habits come back to haunt him.                        

            If it were I, I wouldn’t give a shit.  I’d go all Gaylord Perry on them. “You think I was cheating? Hmm, interesting.  Good luck catching me.”

            Ol’ Lance should have Gaylord beat.  He’s literally on top of the mountain; actually he’s atop the Alps. Doesn’t mater (as in mater horn, get it?) how he got there.  I get tired just watching the cars follow those guys. Besides, he got there the same way everybody else seems to get there.

            Lance has never been known for his laid back acceptance of criticism, be it from snot-nosed wannabe sports writers or state senators questioning his demand that taxpayers fork over $3 billion to move the cancer closer to him.

            But last month in an interview with Men’s Journal, he seemed willing to reign contentedly while the delinquents blew spitballs at his greatness.

            “Other than a health issue or something with [my] kids, nothing will rattle me ever again,” the seven-time Tour de France winner said. 

            Looked like Ol’ Lance was content to swim, bike and run off to Hawaii to win the world Ironman championship.

            But that was before the United States Anti Doping Agency lobbed a grenade into those plans, announcing an investigation into possible performance enhancing activities had a bunch of witnesses and would prevent him from triathloning for a while, even though the USADA can’t actually take my freedom or my money.

            It’s not a health issue and doesn’t threaten his kids, so you gotta figure Ol’ Lance would slough it off, maybe call Ol’ Gaylord and have a good laugh.

            Or you thought he’d do what I’d do if I had that kind of jack and all those trophies. Tell the world to Fuck Off.

            I wouldn’t admit anything.  I might point out that all the steroids and doping allow you to do is work even harder.  I’d allow how you might take my name out of the record books, but I’d also point out that I’ve still got a copy and seven pictures of me on the stand, drinking the champagne, kissing the girl and wearing that yellow jersey.

            If I got real cocky, I might ask who the hell you’re going to give the wins to.  All those guys behind me, they’ve been caught.  I might even say, in world of artificially-created superbikers, I was still baddest son of a bitch among them, so go pass your resolution, reprint the record books, do what you have to do.  It doesn’t matter because those pictures of me sipping Champagne as I cruise down the Champs Elysee' will be harder to get off the Internet than a sex tape.

            You know what I wouldn’t do? I wouldn’t go all 9^th-grade girl and claim they just hate me because I’m beautiful. I wouldn’t try to poke holes in the case, if for no other reason than doing so might make people look even closer at the record.

            They might just start wondering how a guy who was a middle-of-the-pack rider gets a disease linked to PED use then comes back as a cross between John Wayne and a Kenyon on wheels.

            They might just begin to wonder why the testers are always behind the dopers and they might look into the tests I’ve passed and find something.  I don’t know. 

            But I wouldn’t worry about any of that. I’d just tell them all to kiss my spandexed ass.

Fun with Youtube

I have come to believe that Lisa from the Jessi Colter song is the woman he stopped loving today from the George Jones song. I wonder if Lisa showed at the funeral.

Tejus gets benched

Sorry Tebowmaniacs. Not even Elway believed in your guy. I guess the only thing to do is start praying for Him (or him) to strike Peyton down. Florida guys might be all right for schoolboy games, when there is money on the line you better get someone from Tennessee.

Here's the kicker. While Tebow has always been lauded for his work ethic and Christianity, its clear that his film study never approached the level that Manning attained. And while Tim was in the Philippines trying to convert a Catholic nation to Christianity, Peyton was giving millions so poor children could have medical care. You know, actually practicing Christ's teachings instead of looking for cameras in front of which he could kneel.

So you've got a better quarterback and better man in Denver. Tejus looks to be sent packing to some team that can either teach him to throw and put him him at tight end where he just might become a hall of famer, that is if he can ever learn to put his team's needs before his own.

Dividing the Body

When I was 15 I did something stupid.
Well, that’s a little like saying Stalin had an empathy problem. But I did one particular stupid thing that had the good fortune to be saved for posterity, should I ever wish to run for office. I was photographed giving the finger.
I still remember it. It was the homecoming parade my sophomore year and I was on the football player’s float when the photographer, a good friend, said something obnoxious and I responded. He was a photographer for the yearbook, and when the they came out at the beginning of the next school year, there I was, extending both my perfectly formed teeth and my perfectly formed bird to the viewer, looking dead into the camera.
I cannot imagine that word could have spread quicker. Say what you want about Twitter and Facebook, nothing spreads information as efficiently as a Catholic high school grapevine. If memory serves the annuals were handed out at lunch, the picture was pointed out to me by the end of the day and I was standing in the assistant principal’s office the next morning.
I haven’t thought about the incident in years. By the time we graduated, it had stopped being mentioned. I’m not sure my wife knows about it and I know my children don’t. I’m not particularly ashamed. I wish I hadn’t done it, but my kids will hear about it one day and I’ll try to teach them the lesson I learned from it. But the GOP race for president and the general direction Christianity has taken in this country have me thinking about it more often these days.
There is a harshness and divisiveness in the language that’s deeply unsettling. The New York Times reported yesterday that Bishops were attacking a group set up to support victims of clergy sex abuse.
William Donahue, president of Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights sums up the bishops’ position by saying “The bishops have come together collectively. I can’t give you the names, but there’s a growing consensus on the part of the bishops that they had better toughen up and go out and buy some good lawyers to get tough. We don’t need altar boys.”
He went on the say the victims should be fought. Note the emphasis on the Catholic Church as the victim, as the one that needs defending. It’s worth nothing here that what the suits are about is boys were raped by priests with the knowledge of church officials reaching all the way to the current Pope. Those priests were not turned over to the authorities, but shuffled off to other parishes where they were free to rape again.
A mandate that insurance companies pay for contraception was met by the Bishops with the same type of rhetoric as Pearl Harbor. The idea, which would not require a single person to violate the church’s archaic and misogynistic ban on contraception, is framed as an attack on the church. What the church really wants is a ban on contraception, a ban that will take away the free will that is the basis of Christian theology.
We’ve seen politicians refused communion for not voting to ban abortion (though we’ve never seen the Bishops attack politicians who support torture, unjust wars, the death penalty or universal healthcare). A lesbian was denied communion at her mother’s funeral. The Church, which is supposed to be a unifying force, the body of Christ, is instead moving away from the tenants of Vatican II and becoming more and more of a divisive force. Somewhere along the line attacking the sinner has become the norm, or in the case of the church’s complicity in child rape, transferring the onus of the sin from the sinner to the sin’s victim has become church policy. One wonders what happened to the idea that we should love the sinners, even the abortionists, the Pill takers and violated alter boys. Somewhere along the line the hierarchy has decided Catholicism is more important that Catholics. It is what Andrew Sullivan calls Christianism.
Which is why I’ve been thinking about that picture lately. It’s not my only sin and it’s nowhere near my worst. I certainly didn’t put the thing in the yearbook. But nonetheless I found myself in Mr. Conway’s office, almost a year after it happened, listening to him explain how he’s not punishing me for the picture, but for the action itself; that he’d be handing out the same punishment if he saw me doing it across the room.
He told me how he had to take show the picture to our principal, Mrs. Gagne, a tiny, soft-spoken woman, whose utter lack of wrath made you fear her disappointment more than anything. He actually had to point to my finger because she didn’t catch the gesture at first glance. Then she had to do the same for the Bishop.
My punishment was to write a letter to the Bishop apologizing and explaining what I learned. I can’t remember a single thing I wrote and it doesn’t matter because the lesson wasn’t taught until after I finished the letter. I had to hand it to Mrs. Gagne. She took the letter and without reading it, she hugged me.
“We love you Michael.”
That was all she said. It brought me to tears and quite frankly I cry much easier now than I did then.
“We love you Michael.”
It remains the purest expression of Christianity I’ve ever witnessed. I had embarrassed the school (which had a great sense of it’s standing in the community), my family, my church and myself. The response?
“We love you Michael.”
I had spent a lot of time in Mr. Conway’s office up to that point, all of it involuntary. I cannot remember being called to his office again, though I made it point to stick my head in every once in a while to say hello. The forgiveness that was offered and which I so greedily absorbed had a profound effect on this sinner. Mrs. Gagne reminded me that no matter what I did, I was part of that school, part of that church, part of that body of Christ and that there is no sin that is so great that it can’t be redeemed by love.
And with that gesture I was no longer angry at the photographer who shot the picture, nor with the editor who put it in nor the yearbook sponsor who allowed it to go to press. I was no longer even angry with myself for being so stupid.
I suspect that Bishop Dolan and Bill Donahue would demand my head if they were to become aware of my transgressions. For them it’s about ideological purity. These are the men who want to purge the church of its sinners. When they are done, and they look around, who will be left? A Jewish Carpenter and his mother. And I wonder if that Mary will put her arms around Donahue and tell him, despite it all, that she loves him. I suspect she will. And then maybe they will learn what I learned. And they will be filled with relief, love and forgiveness.

The selfishness of Tebow

I don’t like Tim Tebow.
Right up front I should tell you that as a Tennessee native I naturally hate anything that’s come through Gainesville, from Spurrier to Erin Andrews to Lane Kiffin’s wife, but my distaste for Tebow goes beyond that. As Bill James once wrote of Hal Chase, there is something about him that shines through so false, yet looks so true to so many.
I should also confess I have a natural suspicion of those who wear their religion on their sleeves. I am a bad Catholic, but I take Matthew 6:1 seriously (or at least I hide behind it). But it’s not Tebow’s public displays that bother me per se, but the theology that lies behind them, a prosperity gospel the belies everything I was taught and believe.

This idea that Tebow’s success is a direct result of his piety is patently offensive. Many have pointed out the flip side of that position. If Tebow’s goodness is responsible for his success, then those he vanquished must be evil. The idea that God is punishing evil football players when there are so many doing evil in so many more important positions seems a waste of His time. And what are we to make of Tebow’s losses? Did he lust after a cheerleader?
Even more offensive is Tebow’s chip on his shoulder, when he should be carrying humility. This attitude isn’t uncommon among evangelicals. They always see themselves as under attack. Tebow hasn’t bothered to step forward to contradict his supporters when they lash out at his critics as heretics, as if a slow delivery without accuracy is sanctioned in the Gospels. Tebow himself, after breaking his vow not to do any commercials until he was the starter, stars in a commercial stating that no one thought he could get a scholarship, and no one expected him to play pro.
The problem with that is Tebow was one of the most sought after recruits of all time coming out of high school. He was the first sophomore to win the Heisman Trophy and no one believes he can’t make it in the NFL. It’s just that few who watch him believe he belongs at quarterback.
Tebow’s Christianity, Christianism Andrew Sullivan would call it, is utterly lacking in humility. He gives lip service to God, but he gives him no credit. Instead he claims it for himself, referencing how hard he will work, how much time he will log in the weight room, in film sessions, working on his mechanics. Tebow tells his he will become a great quarterback through a supreme act of the human will. He mouths platitudes about how “first and foremost I want to give credit to Jesus Christ,” but first and foremost he’s finding a camera. Otherwise he would have already given credit to Jesus before the interview began.
In doing so he’s denying God, as is every professional athlete who claims their success is due to their hard work. Hard work is required, of that there is no question, but there are is minimum amount of athleticism one must have to even get a chance. Tim Tebow is 6-foot-5, weighs 240 pounds and runs like a deer. That’s a gift from God, a gift he has worked hard to maximize, but he works no harder than my friend Ronnie Grable who was 5-foot-3, weighed 130 pounds and ran a 5.0 40-yard dash. Ronnie busted his ass every bit as much as Tebow does. But he didn’t get a single call from a college coach.
I don’t want to get into a deep discussion of x’s and o’s, but Tebow’s wins all have the same look. He plays poorly, the defense plays great, keeps Denver within a single possession of taking the lead and Tebow rides his athleticism and ability to make something out of broken plays to pull out a late win. It’s not a bad strategy. It was the one that Dan Reeves used with Elway. But I’ve never heard Tebow give any credit to the staff’s strategy of taking the game out of his hands, or completely gutting their offense for him.
In the end, Tebow’s ethos is selfish. His idol is himself. Football is a team game. It’s about sublimating your needs to the needs of the team. Was Tebow doing that when he was whining this summer when he was whining about not having the starting job handed to him? Is Tebow acting selflessly when he insists on playing a position where he is a liability rather than switching to one, say tight end, where he really can be great? When was the last time you saw him defer the postgame interview to Von Miller?
Tebow and his fans like to frame his life in terms of his religion, from his missionary work converting a population that is 90 percent Catholic to “Christianity,” to his success on the football field. But what the story is missing is the humility on which Christ’s teachings rest.

Two executions

James Byrd has been dead 13 years. Mark MacPhail has been dead for 22 years. Both men were murdered and their killers were executed last night. This morning, both men are still dead and justice remains out of reach.

It's a funny phrase: "were executed." It's passive voice. We don't say "the state of Texas executed Lawrence Brewer." A state is a abstract concept not capable of action on its own. We don't say "the people of Texas killed Lawrence Brewer," although we damn sure did, through our viciousness and apathy. And we don't say "Jailer X and Dr. Y, who administered the 'lethal cocktail' (quickly becoming my favorite cliche) killed him," because, after all, they were only following orders.

Of course, the world is no worse off for the loss of Lawrence Brewer, truly a piece of shit if there ever was one. He was a racist, coked up caracature of a man and a great danger to the general public. His death will draw none of the angst that Troy Davis' has. Unlike Davis, there is no doubt about Brewer's guilt. There is no question of a truly guilty murderer wondering the streets.

But if you are truly against the death penalty — and I mean against it because it is wrong, not because it's applied racistly, costs more money, doesn't deter crime and runs the risk of killing an innocent man — if you are against it because the state doesn't give life and thus has no right to take it, then you should be as outraged at Lawrence Brewer's death as you are at Troy Davis'.

Davis' case is easy. There was no physical evidence to tie him to MacPhail's murder. No murder weapon every surfaced, no DNA, no blood. Nothing. There were witnesses, nine in all who testified against Davis. He was convicted quickly and sentenced to death in seven hours. But seven of those witnesses recanted, some saying they were threatened by police with jail time of their own if they didn't identify Davis. Of the two remaining witnesses, one was supposedly overheard bragging about the murder.

It's easy to be outraged that the people of Georgia killed Troy Davis last night. His guilt remains in doubt and the system simply said, "innocence or guilt is irrelevant." Davis' is the kind of case death penalty opponent dream about.

But the death of Brewer is no less wrong. There is no justice for James Byrd. His wife and children don't want to see Brewer executed. Doing so doesn't bring Byrd back. And, worse, it implies equality between the two. This ultimately is why I think we are so adamant about the death penalty in this country. We cannot abide a tragedy in which no one is responsible. We cannot stand loose ends. So we tell ourselves that once we stick the needle in the murderer the books are cleared and we can pat ourselves on the back for doing so. In the meantime we're telling the world that the two lives are the same, they are interchangeable. And most importantly we are absolving ourselves from any guilt. If you wipe the slate clean there is no need to look and see if society failed to protect the victim before he was killed.

And after all, that is when it would have mattered. We should have cared more about James Byrd when he was alive.

Romo revisted

But first a note. Today starts my new policy of beginning each post with the phrase "live nude girls" to see if it spikes my page views. Sorry, no photos, but we will speak of the manly arts today.

Romo was remarkable yesterday, from what I can tell from the highlights and the media coverage. (I'd like to thank the NFL, Congress and the idiotic, unAmerican policy of blacking out the Cowboys in Houston). Broken ribs are tough and I think he took a small step forward. As I said last week, it's easy to like this guy and it's easy to see why his teammates like him and his performance will help in the locker room.

Will it help him with the fans? Who cares? Doesn't matter what you think, doesn't matter what I think. What matters is if its really a step forward and if Romo will learn that winning can be painful, but it's worth going through that pain. He gave a Meredith-esque performance yesterday. Let's see if he keeps it going.