I’m not the only person who’s fed up with Big-Time Football. Lloyd Buzzell is starting to have qualms. Here’s some of them:
Though you should probably wonder about any game in which it is customary to have an ambulance in attendance, the violence is not staying on the field where it is channeled and controlled. Much attention has been focused on two incidents at the high school level: the 2012 sexual assault of a 16-year-old in Steubenville, Ohio, and the more recent hazing of younger players in Sayreville, New Jersey.
Following the game at the college level is a little bit like reading a crime blotter. And last year’s Heisman watch took the cake with Jameis Winston and his school, Florida State, the subject of extensive reporting by the New York Times regarding allegations of a rape and the school’s casual attitude toward the victim and her rights. Everything seemed to be subordinated to Florida State’s bid for the national championship.
My local rag has laid off my favorite sportswriter. After 38 years with the same employer, he is done.
I now have no reason whatsoever to look at their sports section, except, possibly, to watch NASCAR devolve back to its hillbilly rum runnin’ roots.
As my two or three regular readers know, I’m fed up with big time sports, but I always read his column because I appreciated his point of view and, by heavens, the man can write.
AFAIC, nothing on the internet has damaged legitimate journalism more than Craig’s List, which has destroyed the classified advertising that was the life’s blood of newspapers.
Is there a bigger jerk than Dan Snyder?
The pathology of white violence grips another city.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
I will never watch another football game again once more another time all over again.
Like Crabby Appleton, the game and everyone associated with it are rotten to the core.
I’m so old I can remember when the University of North Carolina was a respected institution of higher education.
The kids may be all right, but the parents are another story.
And, courtesy of my brother, here’s another story of Parental Football Impairment Syndrome.
Yet, some wonder why, by the time they get to big-time football, some players think they are exempt from law and morality . . . .
Jon Stewart takes on the NFL Redskins team name.
Below the fold in case it autoplays.
Corporal Colbert, below the fold in case it autoplays.
So much for “playing for the fun of the game.”
Back when I was in Little League (I wasn’t very good, but I still enjoy baseball), the worst aspect of the game was the parents. The parents of one team, sponsored by a local fraternal organization, became notorious as the “Moose Mothers.”
Girls (and boys) may just want to have fun, but the parents seemed determined to poison the game.
If you wonder why big-time football and other sports are hopelessly corrupt, just look at their “fans.”