Much ado about nothing
Hair issue a humorous respite from quiet offseason
Posted: Friday March 28, 2008 11:57AM; Updated: Friday March 28, 2008 12:20PM
All who missed me, raise your hands.
Thank you, sir.
Gosh, and I had to miss all the action around here, like that Spitzer stuff ... I thought they were talking about one of Santa's reindeer. But, gosh, black socks at $4300 an hour. Wow! They never taught us that at HM.
At what? Says which?
Horace Mann. The high school from which both the ex-Gov and your faithful narrator graduated. That's right, we're both alum of the same school, although not at the same time, obviously. Both Hilltoppers. But please keep it under your sock, uh, your hat.
Good God, will the bloke ever get on with this Mailbag column or is this the Halfwits' Comedy Hour? Sorry folks. Just getting warmed up for upcoming skirmish.
Let's start with Jeff of San Francisco, who right away focuses on the key issue that will be addressed at next week's NFL meetings. Hair. As in, length of. Must not obscure uniform name or number was the proposal that will be voted on, or at least discussed. This was presented to us at the media conference call Wednesday.
Hey, wait just one minute. Length of hair is in the Bill of Rights. It's God given. Besides, in some cases it interferes with ethnic persuasion, such as hermaphroditic.
"It doesn't mean players have to cut their hair," said Atlanta's Rich McKay, co-chairman of the Competition Committee, which will brush up on this matter before the meetings begin. "They would have to keep it under their helmet." Or bob it, braid it, curl, perm or tease it.
And if all this tells you merely that it's been a deadly dull offseason, listen to what's coming:
Bri of Sanibel, Fla., voices some stiff criticism of the commercialism in pro football.
"Hey, Z," he writes. "How do you feel about the money-grabbing NFL shamelessly marketing products like Viagra and Cialis without regard for children in the audience. When watching a game, my four-year-old daughter asked me what an erection is. Should kids not watch football?
Advice from Doctor Z -- Keep an alert monitoring position on the remote control, and mute out all commercials, which probably is a good idea anyway. How times have changed. When I was a kid we had erector sets, you know, those metal things you'd build an Eiffel Tower with. And that's as far as we'll take the analogy.
Warren Sapp, of all people, comes flashing across our board, a delayed reaction to the piece I wrote a couple of weeks ago before escaping to Mendocino, Calif. Two out of the three selected praise my stance that he was an underachiever as well as a cheap shotter, and I thank you gentlemen, namely Carlos of Aguascalientes (hot water, right?), Mexico, and Juan of Woodbury, N.J. And as for Josh of St. Pete, an equally serious negative vote, I will give you full voice because you address an interesting topic.
"I never saw you out there handling 300-pounders (you didn't look at my first marriage). Get off of Warren's ass. Show some love to a real player who'll never be forgotten."
The interesting point is one that we hear every 20 minutes. Only an ex-player has the right to criticism same. It means that only a 300-pounder can take a rip at Warren, right? You can only wince when a singer hits an operatic wrong note if you can sing grand opera yourself, correct? You can't call an egg rotten unless you can lay one. Ball's in your court, Josh. Your serve.
This is getting too heavy, so I'm going to lighten it up with a loose, frivolous E-mailer of the Week Award to Adam Walburger of Johnson City, N.Y., who submitted the following:
"Was there ever a time that you were not brutally honest with your opinions? What happens when the Redhead spends all day cooking and it tastes bad?"