Editor's Note: The last appearance of Clam Newton, the wisecracking bivalve, made some serious waves (and it begins already!) around these parts (Steve felt the need to call me at work to discuss him), so I thought it was only fair to bring him back to discuss the demise of the Senator himself, Jim Tressel. Work has been incredibly hectic this week so I haven't had time to write about Tress until now--not sure what Clam's excuse is.
Everyone knows you don't call in Clam Newton (recently promoted to the position of Manual Buzzer Director of NCAA Compliance and Aquatic-American Relations, by the way) to discuss the boring stuff. He's not here to rehash the angles that have been discussed ad nauseam. If you need a primer, here's the much-anticipated George Dohrmann SI investigation, here's the Buckeye homer perspective, and here's a more balanced take in Deadspin, by the normally insufferable Tommy Craggs.
"Sorry I'm so late to the party on this one too, guys. I needed a few days to digest the news, partly because it was such a complex scandal and partly because I have a very primitive digestive system consisting of little more than a mucus membrane that traps plankton, a crude proto-intestine, and an anus. I also went on a two-week bender after Osama bin Laden was killed--his decomposing body says hi, by the way--and haven't been feeling up to writing until now."
--
Of all the potential improper benefits that could have caused Tressel's downfall, I'm surprised that tattoos were the culprit. I might be alone on this one, but I think tattoos should be a free perk for college athletes. They're a useful tool for retaining underclassmen; when I tutored freshman football players in math, most of them had full sleeve tattoos that involved a ton of Ohio State imagery (Block Os, Buckeye leaves, etc.).
These were kids that were third or fourth on the depth chart at their position and had no guarantee of ever playing a meaningful snap, but they inked their dedication to the program anyway. You're going to be pretty reluctant to transfer to another school if you have OSU decorations up and down your body. Imagine if your current job tattooed their company logo all over you once you started--how likely would you be to look for work elsewhere?
South Park would rightfully have another field day if this actually became policy because of the racial angle (who could see anything objectionable about branding the skin of unpaid, mostly black employees?), but if players are going to get tattoos of their own volition, I say make 'em free. They're as much a part of the uniform as helmets and cleats, and the players don't pay for any of that stuff.
"Before we move on, a Nautical Tattoo Fun Fact: Popeye is actually based on--you guessed it--my old friend Bobby Bowden!
If you ever see Bobby shirtless, which I don't recommend these day, you'd find that his torso and arms are absolutely plastered with tats. In his younger days, he could flex his pecs and make a little cartoon spear go through the head of Joe Paterno. Always got a laugh down at the dock!"
--
Anyone who thought Jim Tressel was a stand-up, character-first guy clearly never witnessed one of his press conferences. He reminds me a lot of another Senatorial Ohioan whose career in the public eye was also marked by disgrace: Warren G. Harding, the 29th POTUS. In his book Blink, Malcolm Gladwell writes that Harding's speeches were once described as "an army of pompous phrases moving over the landscape in search of an idea", a descriptor that could just easily apply to a Tressel presser. Harding's primary qualification was that he looked the part, as did Tressel with his sweater vest, glasses, and dignified grey hair. To me, a man of character is one who says what he means and goes to bat for his values, like Mike Gundy, not one who makes every effort to say absolutely nothing when he speaks. Tressel had the chance to use some plain English and apologize for his actions, and he chose to keep talking in circles; as a result, I have no sympathy for the pinata treatment he's getting in the media.
"Speaking of the media, a lot of prominent writers and publications have labeled Tressel as a spineless bottom-feeder. As an invertebrate that lives on the ocean floor, I take extreme offense to that characterization. The Aquatic-American Anti-Defamation League and I are starting an ad campaign along the lines of the "When You Say That's Gay, Do You Know What You Say?" commercials, except instead of Hillary Duff and Wanda Sykes, we're retaining the services of Mr. Eel Patrick Harris. My slogan suggestion: 'Nothing Nice To Say About Scallops? Then Clam Up.'"
--
The news broke this afternoon that Terrelle Pryor, arguably the biggest cause of the entire scandal, has ended his once-promising football career at OSU, and is weighing whether to enter the NFL supplemental draft or finish out his senior year and obtain his degree (yeah, RIGHT).
I think some NFL team takes a flyer on him, providing they resolve the lockout (and they better, or I'll probably threaten to kill myself a la Stanley the Adult Baby, but that's a different topic for a different day), but he'll be going in as a tight end prospect first and a quarterback second. His character issues and graceless exit from OSU now overshadow how brilliantly he played in college, and no front office guy who wants to keep his job is going to feel comfortable recommending Pryor for such a crucial position, especially since his bona fides as an NFL-style pocket passer were still considered questionable. That the Panthers spent their first pick on Cam Newton, a very similar player with similar off-field issues, works in his favor, but the untimely death of Josh McDaniels (who bet it all on Tim Tebow, another run-first QB/athletic freak with dubious potential as a passer) works against him. Ultimately, I think Pryor projects as Matt Jones, the Sequel, which isn't a compliment.
"This brings us to this week's edition of one of our most popular segments, Ask Clam Newton.
Reader 'Chris Paul Super Bowl' writes:
'Dear Clam,
At Ohio State, we often debated how Pryor should make his grand entrance once he committed as a recruit. Suggestions included 'hatching' from a giant Buckeye nut at half court during a basketball game, then sprouting angel wings and soaring around Value City Arena; emerging from under the turf at midfield during a football game nude and covered in lava; and Pappy Chalmers' suggestion, which was to have Tressel lead a group of reporters to a tree in Buckeye Grove, announce "Let's see if we can't shake a Buckeye out of this tree," and shake a concealed Pryor loose from the branches.
What's Pryor's grand exit?*
Yours drooly,
Chris Paul Super Bowl'
Well CPSB, I can think of only one fitting exit. Pryor needs to disintegrate President Gee with his mind as his eyeballs turn pitch black, and then, in a moment of clarity, beg AD Gene Smith to kill him before destroys everything, a la the end of X-Men 3: The Last Stand. (Note that Tressel plays the part of Cyclops in this analogy.)
*Editor's Note: The actual question was only this sentence. I added the rest. BUT IT'S ALL TRUE!
**Editor's Note, again: CPSB wrote back with a better suggestion: Pryor raises his hands in the air while it's raining, then waits for DeVier Posey to reunite with him on a beach in Mexico, a la Shawshank Redemption.
--
The notion that Gene Smith and Gordon Gee knew nothing is absolutely absurd. The SI article points out that young Buckeye fans (age: approx. 8 years old) knew that the players hung out at Fine Line, and would often stake the place out seeking autographs. By claiming ignorance on Smith and Gee's part, Ohio State is either a) lying through its teeth, or b) proclaiming that its top brass, with compensation packages in the millions of dollars and specific charges to maintain NCAA compliance, was so clueless that its detective work was outpaced by that of a bunch of 3rd-graders.
What Tressel did here was to fall on his sword (as Deadspin pointed out) by making sure that the FOIAble communications he had on the matter excluded Gee and Smith. I would bet my life and every dollar I have in the bank that Tress told Smith and Gee verbally, face-to-face (where no record is generated), about the infractions.
It's also a little disturbing to me that the media have been so quick to exonerate Gee and Smith because public records requests didn't implicate them. They should be considered guilty until proven innocent, and the records requests don't prove their innocence. This smells like lazy journalism--to admit that the records requests don't tell the whole story would be to admit that there's more work to be done, and the media jackals have no interest in that now that Ohio State has fed them Tressel.
"Before I forget, here's your underwater-themed tune for this week: "The Fisherman" by the late, great Leo Kottke. Never fails to bring a tear to each of my 100 or so simple eye-like structures.
Until next time,
Clam"
0 comments:
Post a Comment