What's the most puzzling thing about Bryant Gumbel's controversial race comments is that he has more intelligence and talent in his little finger than most sportscasters do in their entire body. ( I despise that saying but it actually fit here, so I was a complete douche and used it.)
He doesn't need to resort to inflammatory remarks because he wants to keep reminding us that he is in fact black. Gumbel reminds me of that skit years ago on "Saturday Night Live" when Eddie Murphy disguised himself as a white guy to see what goes on when no blacks are around. But Gumbel is the white, masquaraded version, not the real person.
Because he is so 'white,' if you will, Gumbel has to sling some mud to broaden his appeal. Listen, Bryant, you're a he'll of a broadcaster and have been for decades. Only when you began making an asshole out of yourself with controversial comments did people begin hating you.
Yeah, I know. Publicity is publicity, good or bad. But this guy could have possibly been one of the better that the industry has ever had and he loses all respect with his comments. In case you missed his latest on HBO's "Real Sports," he likened NBA commissioner David Stern to a modern day plantation owner.
For the record, "Real Sports" is one of my favorite shows on television and I will continue to watch it. Anyone who actually believes that boycotting a show will make a difference is dillusonal. I like it, it's entertaining and informative and I don't have to agree with everything I watch.
But Gumbel takes away from a great show by sounding as if he should have been holding the Rev. Al Sharpton's hand while protesting during one of the late 1980s "Day of Outrage" marches within New York City.
Hey, Bryant - you're a sportscaster, not a community activist. Stick with what you're good at. And this is coming from a true fan of yours.
MuscleSport Mag
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
It's a Conspiracy - Women Drivers
Don't get me wrong. I would never make a broad statement such as all women are bad drivers. That's just not me. No, I have a theory and it certainly makes more sense this way. There is a large group of women in the Tri-state area who have conspired to follow me on every road, highway and side street. Even parking lots. And their mission is clear - get in his way and make every wrong move known to man - and woman, of course- behind the wheel.
Take this afternoon, for instance. I was driving in the left lane of the Grand Central Parkway headed west towards the city. You New Yorkers know the way well. Lucky for me, it was past rush hour and the traffic was moving fairly well. If you're doing 60 on the GCP, it's the Autobahn.
This young lady, perhaps a 40-something like myself- was ahead of me but in the middle lane. I can see that she is ever so slowly inching her way into the lane I am already occupying and not signaling or slowing down to see if it is clear or not.
As I am about mid-vehicle smack next to her, she makes the move to the left, leaving me no choice but to hop the curb and ride the skinny shoulder before the guard rail. I blow my horn and hope that this idiot notices me before blasting into me and squashing my car.
Luckily she wasn't texting or doing her make-up and she swerved back to where she belonged. I probably scared the shit out of her. But it want exactly all shits and giggles for me, either.
No I'm pissed off, as I should be. It's been a pretty good year with the business (part of which you're reading now) ands I finally have a car I can be proud of. It's not a Maserati but certainly up there and better than the Honda I had before it. So I intend on keeping it looking nice, thank you.
As we pass one another, she has the balls to give me a dirty look and have an attitude. Listen, mirror breaker. You almost caused a real shitty pile up at high speed and I'm getting crap from you?
So please, help me out in this diabolical plan. A lone male is helpless against an army of females armed with heavy machinery, cell phones and eye liner.
Take this afternoon, for instance. I was driving in the left lane of the Grand Central Parkway headed west towards the city. You New Yorkers know the way well. Lucky for me, it was past rush hour and the traffic was moving fairly well. If you're doing 60 on the GCP, it's the Autobahn.
This young lady, perhaps a 40-something like myself- was ahead of me but in the middle lane. I can see that she is ever so slowly inching her way into the lane I am already occupying and not signaling or slowing down to see if it is clear or not.
As I am about mid-vehicle smack next to her, she makes the move to the left, leaving me no choice but to hop the curb and ride the skinny shoulder before the guard rail. I blow my horn and hope that this idiot notices me before blasting into me and squashing my car.
Luckily she wasn't texting or doing her make-up and she swerved back to where she belonged. I probably scared the shit out of her. But it want exactly all shits and giggles for me, either.
No I'm pissed off, as I should be. It's been a pretty good year with the business (part of which you're reading now) ands I finally have a car I can be proud of. It's not a Maserati but certainly up there and better than the Honda I had before it. So I intend on keeping it looking nice, thank you.
As we pass one another, she has the balls to give me a dirty look and have an attitude. Listen, mirror breaker. You almost caused a real shitty pile up at high speed and I'm getting crap from you?
So please, help me out in this diabolical plan. A lone male is helpless against an army of females armed with heavy machinery, cell phones and eye liner.
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