The Great Ice Dancing Conspiracy, if it happened at all, worked perfectly. The U.S. team of Shani Davis and Shaun White (or whoever the hell they were) turned left and right and grabbed each other and the woman got thrown into the air and caught pretty much every time, and a bunch of wax droids called “judges” ran their elbows over calculators and came up with numbers and the Americans won.
Now, a question: if ice dancing is fixed, as was claimed by a French newspaper before the Olympics and repeated by Toronto Star columnist Rosie DiManno, doesn’t this presume someone is betting on ice dancing, and if so, is there a group of gamblers more in need of an intervention?
The answer should not require much time or thought.
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The U.S. and Canada now must avenge (repeat) their gold and silver in the women’s ice hockey final Wednesday after lopsided semifinals that mostly served to elevate the nascent sport of forcibly removing the wings from flies for points. Neither team likes each other, and both have been known to get uber-chippy with each other.
In short, never mind the game. Let’s watch the postgame handshake and hope for the kind of rancid behavior the NHL used to wholeheartedly embrace. In other words, throw down, children. The Russians aren’t up to reinflating the Cold War, but you all could reinvent it.
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Ernest T. Jones, who was hired last month as running backs coach at Connecticut under Bob Diaco, was resigned (as in “got quitted”) by the school after he was quoted by the Hartford Courant as saying, “We're going to make sure (the players) understand that Jesus Christ should be in the center of our huddle, that that's something that is important.”
"Ernest has resigned his position effective immediately here at the university after deep introspection and reflection, and it is entirely family and personally related,” Diaco said. The school had no comment about a statement from the deity, which read in part, “You were 119th in rushing last year. Leave me out of this.”
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Iowa athletic director Gary Barta says he will quit before he has to oversee any plan for paying players or tolerating a union, and this is the quote he gave Radio Iowa:
“And I'll probably choose to do something else for a living if we ever had to go that route because it's so complex,” Barta says. “Do you pay the Division III football player as an employee? Do you pay the tennis student athlete as an employee?”
Oddly, he seems to have had no problem keeping the books straight on all the different donors who give different amounts of money to his department, enough to pay him upwards of $500K when you factor in bonuses. I guess there’s math that trickles up, which is easy, and then there’s math that trickles down.
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From Comrade Baggarly on the preferred name of Giants left fielder and part-time Bolshevik Mikhail Ivan Morse:
“I asked him whether he prefers to be called Mike or Michael. ‘Either one. You can call me whatever you want,’” he said. “’If I’m not hitting and it’s July, you can call me ‘jerk.’”
Such touching optimism. He thinks they’ll stop at “jerk.”
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And finally, to Bill Russell, the last and best word on the idiotic construct of Mount Rushmores for sports, an idea whose creator deserves 10 years at hard labor for even thinking of it. His target: LeBron James, who unfortunately fell for the question.
“Hey, thank you for leaving me off your Mount Rushmore. I’m glad you did. Basketball is a team game; it’s not for individual honors. I won back-to-back state championships in high school, back-to-back NCAA championships in college, I won an NBA championship my first year in the league, an NBA championship in my last year, and nine in between. That, Mr. James, is etched in stone.”
And in James' pre-frontal lobe, we can only hope.