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</td> </tr> <tr> <td>Posted: <!--posted date --> 6/16/2005 by: <!--Author with email link -->
Jesse Lamovsky </td> </tr> <tr> <td> <!--Story --> <table align="left" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5"><tbody><tr><td>
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</td></tr></tbody></table>While reading the comments section of my "Over-rated" piece (I always read my comments religiously, by the way- ego trip), I couldn't help but notice a preponderance of complaints leveled at ESPN. I didn't include the network in "Over-rated" because my gripes about ESPN are a column's worth. And sure enough, here it is.
I've listed, again in no particular order, some of my bigger beefs with ESPN. I don't think I've included all of them, but the biggest are here. Read on and,
per usual, you're free to take your own shots, at the network... and at me as well.
To wit:
Chris Berman
He's finished. Done. Stick a fork in him. He doesn't know anything (he can't even guest-anchor on "SportsCenter" because he's too incompetent), and he has long since become a flat-out caricature of himself. Plus Berman's always been just about the worst baseball announcer ever, since he doesn't know how to close his mouth for two f--king seconds. We're both chunky guys who love football, and that's kewl... but he's an institution, and as Ace Rothstein and I say, that's the problem.
ESPN Original Entertainment
Hmm, let's see. "Playmakers"? Awful. "Tilt"? Horrible. "Dream Job"? Pointless (the 'winner' is never around anyway). "I'd Do Anything?" Yeah, so would I, except watch this bullshit. "Teammates"? Yeah, suuure. "Season on the Brink"? Just read the Feinstein. About the only decent thing to come out of this dilapidated division of the network is "The Junction Boys". And really, "The Junction Boys", with its gaggle of neophyte actors and its ham-handed lead performance by Tom Berringer as Paul "Bear" Bryant, isn't very good either... but it's the uncut
Magnificent Ambersons compared to the other garbage I've just rattled off.
Sunday Night Soundtrack
I don't watch a whole heck of a lot of Sunday Night Baseball, but when I do, the last thing I want to see is mid-game interviews with the likes of Bowling for Soup or, worse yet, Three Doors Down (
the worst band of all time). I'll tune in to one of the bubble-gum pop stations in the Akron-Cleveland area if, and when, I'm jonesing to hear "Almost!". But if I'm tuning in to ESPN on Sunday Night, I want to hear Jon Miller and Joe Morgan and watch two National League teams I don't give a f--k about, dammit.
It's Not ESPN... it's ES(PC)N
Quick rundown of the Rush Limbaugh/NFL Sunday Countdown fiasco: Rush politicized a discussion of Donovan McNabb's skills (or lack thereof) by declaring that, in his opinion, McNabb had been purposely overrated by the media out of its "concern" for the success of black quarterbacks in the NFL. Rush failed to garner many 'mega-dittos' for his little bout of opinion. In fact, Limbaugh was cashiered from the analyst's job soon thereafter, amid a cacaphony of criticism leveled at him by everyone from other ESPN commentators to General Wesley "The Serb Killa" Clark, who attempted to jump-start his failing presidential campaign by piling on the man with Talent on Loan from God. And you know what? Rush got exactly what he deserved. Once you get past the egos and the rampant materialism and hedonism, sports is too beautiful and pristine a thing to be contaminated by politics.
Problem is, even with Rush's large behind in the rear-view mirror, the politics still fly fast and furious... especially on ESPN.com's Page 2 section, where it seems like a day doesn't go by without the likes of Jason Whitlock and Jim Caple playing the race card fast and furious. Whitlock, a Kansas City scribe who really ought to be beat-writing for the sorry Royals in utter obscurity, thinks you're a
racist if you didn't much care for the 2004 Olympic basketball team. Caple thought Notre Dame students were racists for wanting the mediocre Tyrone Willingham fired, as he states in this
embarrassing meltdown that reaches Maureen Dowd-levels of hysteria and irrationality. You definitely can't race-monger from the right at ESPN, but you can race-monger from the PC-zone. That's fucking bullshit. There's no room for either in sports. God knows there's waaaaay too much of it in real life, and sports is supposed to be a refuge from real life. Oh, well- not at ESPN.
(BTW, normally I wouldn't mind taking Tom Jackson's existence... but I would not have wanted to be in his position, seated right next to Rush when he stepped over the line that fateful Sunday morning in 2003. Think about it. He says something, it might escalate an already awkward situation into a total clusterfuck. He stays quiet, as he basically did, and he gets slammed as "Uncle" Tom Jackson. Talk about damned if you do, damned if you don't. I suppose he could have torn into Rush like Steve Harris would have on "The Practice", but T.J. doesn't have the terminally soft Bobby as a boss, either. Besides, Rush was doing just fine picking up 'more rope' on his own).
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It's All Boston/New York, All the Time
Gee, you'd never know that these were two struggling ballclubs who have a very good chance of not making the playoffs this season. At least not the way ESPN covers them. Matter of fact, you'd think these were the only two f--king teams in baseball.
Countdown to irate Bosox fans insulting me and Cleveland in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
ESPN Has Girl Power!
You'd better believe it. The way ESPN talks up the women in sports, you'd think its anchors were mere puppets, and that feminazi "woman" Martha Burk has her hands up their asses and is reaching up all the way into their vocal cords. Watching ESPN, you'd never know that the vast, vast majority of the viewing audience couldn't give a fuck or a good goddam about womens' sports (womens' tennis is the exception). And thank G-d Danica Patrick didn't win the Indy 500. Jesus, we'd
never hear the end of it. "Don't call them 'female' athletes!" Stuart Scott (who else) admonished us as he gushed about Patrick and Annika Sorenstam. "Just call them athletes!" Well, gee, Stu, we'd love to, but we can't, because
you're too busy hyping up the fact that they're female. I
know they're women, Stu. I'm not the one with the glass eye here.
You're Alberts and May, Not Woodward and Bernstein... Assholes
I'm still a little stunned by the antics of Trev Alberts and Mark May, who, during halftime of the Alamo Bowl- a game in which the Buckeyes were playing- declared that the state of the OSU football program demanded that Tressel either resign or be fired. You'd think it was like the last days of the Switzer Regime at Oklahoma, the way Alberts, May, and their host network piled on the Buckeyes last fall. You'd think chicks were getting gang-raped in the players' dorms and Troy Smith was dealing coke right out of the Woody Hayes Athletic Center, Charles Thompson-style. Uh, not quite. Turned out a booster had given Smith $500.00. That's it. Smith will sit out the opening game this fall. That's it. There wasn't even enough to warrant sanctions against the football program. Yes, I am an apologist for Ohio State football and Jim Tressel. But even a Michigan fan could have seen the chicanery of Alberts, May, Tom Friend et al for the shoddy stuff it was- would-be crusaders creating a story, instead of merely reporting one. And I'm pretty sure ESPN (or "E-SPIN" as it's known in Buckeyeland) tried to screw the University of Tennessee the same way right after they won their National Championship. Guys, you ain't Cronkite, you ain't Huntley, and you sure as hell ain't Edward R. Murrow. You're a couple of ex-jocks who are there to read the scores. Read them!
Where's Ron Mexico?
The story of a Georgia woman's lawsuit against Michael Vick broke on April 5 of this year. That was 73 days ago. To this date, I have neither heard nor seen a single reference to the lawsuit on either ESPN or ESPN.com. Not
one. I could be wrong, but I don't think I am. I guess some oxen can't be gored. Say, where the heck are all those bloodhound 'journalists' like Jeremy Schaap? Shouldn't they be all over the Ron Mexico case? I'm not saying ESPN should be tearing down Vick's career, but sauce for the Ohio State goose ought to be sauce for the Michael Vick gander... right? I mean, I'm just saying.
Skip Clueless and John A. Doe
Couple of talentless hacks masquerading as journalists. Skip is a Professional Hater from way back. And I actually used to dig Stephen A., until he came with a baseless rumor about LeBron leaving Cleveland for (surprise!) New York, because his mother doesn't get along with Dan Gilbert. I hate to be that guy who quotes Chapelle, but,
uh-what?
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And Finally... Stuart Scott
Stuart Scott is the embodiment of everything that is wrong and evil about ESPN. He tries desperately hard to be "hip" and "funny", but falls way, way short (Stu is from South Carolina; he's about as 'street' as my half-Jew, half-hillbilly ass). He really thinks you're tuning in to watch
him, and not sports. His failure to just shut the f--k up in his gig as sideline reporter on ABC's Finals coverage is wearing very, very thin (he actually cut into Al Michael's call during Game Three to continue a monologue about Ben Wallace's mama. Cut into
Al-fucking-Michaels! What
balls!). And nobody-
nobody- mounts a high horse the way Stuart Scott does. When "SportsCenter" comes back from commercials, and Stu is standing in front of the big monitor, glasses on, fingers laced in front of him... shut the TV off. Immediately. Or at least hit 'mute'. Or turn to the Kim Yates movie on Cinemax. Or kill yourself. Anything will be better than what is about to come out of Stuart Scott's mouth at that moment- whatever it is.
Example of Stu Scott's talent for being a gi-normous (sorry, McCoy) Stick-In-The-Mud: Last fall, Saint Stu verbally spanked a NASCAR driver for referring to his car's engine failure as 'catastrophic', just after the plane crash that wiped out a good portion of the Hendrick racing team. "That's no catastrophe", Stu huffed. "He should ask the Hendrick team what a catastrophe is." I ask all of you- is it possible to be a more self-righteous asshole than this?</td></tr></tbody></table>
from the
Phat Free