You’ll have to excuse me if this post comes off a bit more confused or muddled than it usually does. It’s being written amidst the swirl and din of Valentine’s Day preparations. This year, I’m making dinner which I thought would be the easier (read: cheaper) option. Listen, there’s a reason I’m poor. And it’s not because I’m secretly a genius. This is the dumbest thing I’ve done. Just got back from the grocery store, where I spent a small fortune on one (still hypothetical) meal. Have I mentioned I can’t cook? This is a Hindenburgian disaster and I wish I could blame my girlfriend or the Valentine’s Industrial Complex. Maybe love itself for the way it blinds you to your inability to measure up, if only briefly. But no, none of these are the likely culprit. As I already said, there’s a reason I’m poor. A reason I’m financing a T14 debt burden on a TTT salary. I’m humble enough to admit that the only reason I continue to make bad decisions is a simple one: I think my mom smoked crack while she was pregnant with me.
Vince Young is broke. Or, he may be broke. At any rate, Vince Young is currently financing a Pro Bowl debt burden on a waiver wire salary.
Let’s talk sports…
GET BROKE OR DIE TRYING
The famous marshmallow test posited that children who were able to delay their own gratification in order to gain a bigger reward tended to do better at life. They got better grades, had strong relationships and were generally healthier than their quick-draw marshmallow-gobbling counterparts. Vince Young allegedly took out a high-interest loan in order to fund his own birthday party and I’m not saying Vince Young has poor impulse control. I’m just saying he’ll eat that f*cking marshmallow right out of your hand. Probably take a few of your fingers along with it.
Young is currently embroiled in a lawsuit he filed against advisers whom Young claims stole money from him. The Wonderlic Wonder was told that a loan he took out during the NFL lockout had come due and he didn’t remember taking out any such loan. I mean, he didn’t exactly remember:
Young is challenging a $1.7 million judgment obtained against him in New York in July by Pro Player. The sum represents the balance of $1.9 million borrowed at 20 percent interest in the former University of Texas star’s name in May 2011. Young, who has been out of football since he was cut by the Buffalo Bills before last season, was one of more than a dozen NFL players who obtained loans from Pro Player during the lockout.
He testified during a deposition in December that he “probably” signed some of the loan documents in the presence of a notary at a law office in Houston. But he said he had no need for a loan, never sought one and didn’t have access to the proceeds.
Probably. Vince Young probably joins a long list of distinguished broke athletes because he probably never absorbed the lesson that ignorantly signing a bunch of documents in the presence of a notary is not the wisest course of action, no matter whether you can throw a football over them mountains or not. That or Vince Young is lying. He’s either monumentally stupid (probably) or duplicitous (probably) or both (probably).
Listen, Vince Young might be a great guy who likes to party shirtless with other great guys. I don’t know. But he is clearly a guy who’s seen better days. A guy who fancies himself an NFL quarterback and got cut by the Buffalo Bills, who are only technically an NFL team. Vince Young has seen better days alright. Probably.
BARRY BONDS HAS AN ENORMOUS DOME
We’ve talked quite a bit about drug use in these cyberpages. My mom’s crack habit notwithstanding, most of the mentions have been of athletes caught up in our nation’s perpetual outrage machine where drugs are but our most effective tool to gin up that frothing superiority. And the patron saint of our nation’s true national pastime is also the all-time homerun leader of our nation’s fake one. Barry Bonds, an avatar of America’s race, drugs and sports discord.
Yet for all the symbolic and cranial heft that Bonds carried, the government was only able to jack him on a measly obstruction charge. An obstruction charge that, Bonds’ appellate attorney argues, hinges on this exchange:
Prosecutors asked Bonds during his December 2003 grand jury appearance whether Greg Anderson, his personal trainer, ever gave him “anything that required a syringe to inject yourself with?”
Bonds referred to his father, former major leaguer Bobby Bonds, when he responded “that’s what keeps our friendship. You know, I am sorry, but that – you know, that – I was a celebrity child, not just in baseball by my own instincts. I became a celebrity child with a famous father. I just don’t get into other people’s business because of my father’s situation, you see …”
This is pure dada. In all of these athlete drugs cases, the government has been forced to settle for lesser, seemingly unrelated charges. Think Lance Armstrong and the whistleblower case. The template here is Al Capone’s tax evasion. But the above-quoted exchange is nothing like Al Capone’s tax evasion. If it were, the IRS would have asked Al Capone to pay his taxes and Al Capone would have responded “Banana see doodoo trunk snoring.”
But lest you think the government is wasting your tax dollars and their time with this prosecution, fear not. The end of the article on Bonds’ appeal lays bare the entire charade that this is based on. The one sentence that ends the piece is as follows:
If Bonds’ conviction is upheld, he will have to serve 30 days house arrest.
Banana see doodoo trunk snoring.
RAP SHEET ROLL CALL
* Four Alabama football players allegedly rolled tide all over two hapless victims’ heads, robbing and concussing them in the process. No one talks about the serious concussion issues involved in the sport of robbing and stealing.
* Larry Bird’s son allegedly tried to run over his ex-girlfriend. If you’re hoping that Larry Bird named his son Barry, you too will be severely disappointed by this story.
* Speaking of awesome names, former NFL lineman Bubba Paris was charged with failing to file tax returns. In the comments, feel free to create your own name like Bubba Paris. I’ll get things started with Cooter Dublin.