By Bob Bonett
About a month removed from my last column, and it seems like one thing or another has altered the entire landscape of sports.
On the positive side of the spectrum, you have all the feel good stories.
LeBron putting up 48 points, including his team’s last 25, in their Game 5 win over Detroit.
Craig Biggio’s assault on 3000 hits keeps moving.
Portland and Seattle can each thank the lottery for the chance to acquire two franchise players and bring basketball back to the forefront of their cities. (Sorry, Boston.)
Virginia Commonwealth head coach Anthony Grant, one of the Colonial Athletic Association’s own, is on his way to a gig at one of the nation’s best college basketball programs, Florida.
Mini camps are in session, and Derelle Revis looks like the star cornerback the Jets hoped he would be.
The NHL season is finally over.
And, of course, my fantasy baseball teams are all in first place.
Beyond that, though, a couple of things have been “grinding my gears,” as Family Guy’s Peter Griffin would say. So, with this being my only column of the summer, I figured I’d pack a couple months worth of complaints into one page.
Moreover, why not address it as a court case. Bob Bonett versus those that overshadow the great sports stories with their own horror shows.
I’d like to open the proceedings by calling Michael – err, Mike – Vick to the stand.
Is Vick completely out of his mind? According to the unnamed informant to ESPN’s Outside the Lines, the former idol of kids across America has been engaging in dog fighting, perhaps the most inhumane sport out there, since he was drafted into the NFL.
Not only is Vick participating in dog fighting, though. He is a “heavyweight,” betting tens of thousands of dollars on certain “pit bull fights.”
How does someone go from being on the cover of Madden, selling the most jerseys out of any NFL athlete, to the biggest punk in the league?
That’s what the Falcons get for dealing Matt Schaub.
Next to the stand, Jason Giambi and the New York Yankees.
Now, unlike the New York Post, I’m not going to unearth some amphetamine test Giambi took in April.
Isn’t it overtly suspicious, though, that shortly after Giambi comes out with the comments, he first takes an oath of silence, then is sent to the DL with a torn foot ligament while trotting the bases after a home run, and may be out for the season?
If there was ever a Yankee conspiracy, I have to point a finger here. I highly doubt Giambi’s injury is as serious as the Yankees front office is making it seem. I’m assuming Brian Cashman damage control here.
As for the Yankees in general, how about Alex Rodriguez. Trotting around the streets of the *insert any team name here* who just swept the Yankees with a former playmate, then making Bush League moves by shouting at fielders trying to catch a ball.
Imagine Howie Clark or Jason McDonald shouted at A-Rod while he was trying to catch a pop up? Not only would Rodriguez undeniably drop the ball, but he would probably assault the perpetrator.
Moving right along, I’d like to get Michelle Wie on the stand.
I’m not trying to kick anyone while their down, but Ms. Wie, after pulling out of the Ginn Tribute, how can you look yourself in the mirror?
Here is some background information. Wie, coming off of a wrist injury that sidelined her for what seemed like forever, finished the 16th hole at the event 14 strokes above par.
14 strokes above par. As in I would have been shooting better than her.
Wie, invited to the tournament by a sponsorship exemption, was two bogeys away from firing an 88.
If she had shot an 88, Wie would have been banished from the tour for the rest of the year, according to the LPGA’s “Rule of 88.”
Coincidentally, Wie pulls out after 16 because she aggravated her wrist injury.
C’mon Michelle, you’re not fooling anyone.
And Nike, you deserve this for paying a 14-year-old a ridiculous amount of money without proving herself.
The final defendant I would like to call to the witness stand is Kobe Bryant.
Let’s just have some fun here.
I’m bitter with Bryant for overshadowing James’ epic performance, yes.
And I think after he demanded – “allegedly” – that Shaq get traded, he deserves to be stuck on a very mediocre Lakers team.
In addition, I think the fact that the Cavs are in the NBA Finals while Kobe is at home shows that James is better than Kobe. Both teams have no supporting cast (although Daniel Gibson looks like a future star), and while the Western Conference may be much stronger, the Lakers wouldn’t have even contested the Pistons, let alone beat them, like Cleveland did.
But instead of griping about how much I hate Kobe- okay, hate’s strong, but I think its quite obvious he’s not in my good graces – here is the trade I concocted to get him out of Hollywood.
Minnesota gives up their next two No.1 picks, Kevin Garnett, and scrubs, the Lakers give up Kobe, Andrew Bynum, and their No. 1, and the Suns give up Amare Stoudamire, Shawn Marion, Leandro Barbosa, and Raja Bell with their No. 1.
Minnesota receives Stoudamire, Bynum, and the Lakers’ pick this year (where they presumably take small forward Thaddeus Young), the Lakers get Marion, Barbosa, Bell, Phoenix’s No. 1 this year (where they presumably take Josh McRoberts), and Minnesota’s No. 1 next year (where they presumably take Roy Hibbert), and the Suns get Kobe, Garnett, and Minnesota’s No. 1 (where they presumably take Brandan Wright).
Okay, I know I have your head spinning. My girlfriend said she just skipped the last two paragraphs for crying out loud. I’ll break it down for you now, though.
But Minnesota’s lineup now features Amare, Young, and Bynum instead of Hassell, Garnett, and Blount.
The Lakers now have Barbosa, Bell, Marion, McRoberts, and Hibbert.
And the Suns feature the 2008 NBA Championship lineup including Nash, Kobe, Wright, and Garnett.
Plug it into the ESPN Trade Machine, and it works! (And next thing I know, the alarm clock rings).
This trade won’t happen, nor will any other one.
Sorry to break it to you, Kobe, but you’ve been running this organization the last few years, and you ran it right into the ground yourself.
So there you have it. The culprits that have given sports a bad name lately. Feel free to heckle these athletes all you want, because they certainly deserve it, and probably can’t handle it.
I rest my case.