SPORTAPHILE puts the lie to yet another supposed Mike Tyson fight agreement. Much like every halfway decent free agent or trade target must be headed to the 807-person roster of the New York Yankees, every fighter in desperate need of attention and/or cash (in this case, Kimbo Slice) has come thisclose to fighting Tyson, who still hasn’t taken a blow for cash in years.
(Seriously, stop being stuck in the 90s. Throw out your flannel shirts.)
Since SPORTAPHILE beat us to the punch, we’ll finish by taking the entire genre of story to the mat with our blog-jitsu. Let’s all break a few habits here by ditching storylines that prove people over 30 haven’t given up their youth and keep hoping their aging sports stars will return to save their misspent youth and bail them out of their crappy jobs and suffocating families:
- Again, the Yankees you’re thinking of haven’t been around much this millennium. This phenomenon also reared its ugly head in the Paul O’Neill uniform number debacle. It’s just Paul O’Neill. It’s not even Ed O’Neill. (At least he gets to appear in Mamet movies.) It’s Paul O’Neill.
- Michael Jordan disappeared into the mountains of New Zealand in the fall of 1998 and an imposter has been running around ever since, pretending to ‘come back’ or run franchises or penetrate bands of co-eds in tropical locales. Certainly, that’s not the Michael Jordan we should give a damn about anymore. (What can we say? Michael Jordan loves sheep-herding.)
- Speaking of, Tim Floyd coached the Chicago Bulls. Think about that. Tim Floyd coached the Chicago Bulls. So stop blindly filling the arena, Bulls fans. Your memories are all you have of that team.
- Stop giving Reggie Miller, Michael Irvin, and the entire cast of ‘Baseball Tonight’ jobs that involve us ever seeing them again. Maybe they can become accountants or city planners. However, they’re not your heroes anymore. (Well, okay - maybe Steve Garvey.)
- Brett Favre. Get over it.
- Notre Dame. Ditto.
- And finally… Spuds MacKenzie is not coming through that door. Mars Blackmon is not coming through that door. And, as you can quite clearly see below (through the kind assistance of YOU BEEN BLINDED), Li’l Penny is not coming through that door.
This is the sports landscape you have. There’s plenty to love in it. Move on. (And, for crying out loud, stop listening to The Dave Matthews Band. In 10 years, you’ll make the Deadheads look classy and well-groomed by comparison.)