Follow the money?

Recommended reading: Sarah Ryley's story in The Daily about business ties involving former Penn State coach Joe Paterno and board members of The Second Mile that may have played a role in the decision to not call the police about the alleged sexual crimes of Second Mile founder Jerry Sandusky, Paterno's former defensive coordinator.

http://www.thedaily.com/page/2011/12/05/120511-news-paterno-business-1-5/

Let the parade of excuses begin

So.

It was all a misunderstanding.

It was just horseplay.

Jerry Sandusky is innocent of those 40 charges of child sex abuse.

He just shouldn’t have showered with those kids, he said. Gave the wrong impression.

Right.

Meanwhile, of course, eight people have come forward to charge Sandusky with the sexual abuse, and another 10 suspected victims reportedly have gone to police.

Whatever little sympathy I had for Sandusky — and it was damned little — just vanished.

Bye-bye, Hank

Am I OK with Hank Williams Jr. losing his Monday Night Football gig for using an analogy between President Obama and Hitler?

Sure.

In fact, I propose a general rule:

Anytime anyone compares anything or anyone to Hitler and/or the Nazis, he or she loses their job immediately.

Not for lack of taste — though that could be sufficient grounds, too — but for lack of brains and for laziness.

The Hitler/Nazi analogy — whether coming from Hank Williams Jr., or Congressman Steve Cohen or anybody else — is meant as an argument clincher. All it indicates is that the person is incapable of making an intelligent case for his/her position.

It’s meant to be a show-stopper; instead, it’s a think-stopper.

Of course, it’s nothing new: Academic ethicist Leo Strauss coined the term Reduction ad Hitlerum, a play on reductio ad absurdum, when?

1953.

Bye-bye, Brett (I wish)

Brett. Brett. Brett.

He can’t help himself. I know. Still, it’s unseemly for Brett Favre to be damning his Green Bay successor with faint praise.

In case you missed it, Favre said he wasn't surprised Aaron Rodgers won this year’s Super Bowl, adding “the biggest surprise to me would be that he didn't do it sooner” and that Rodgers “just kind of fell into a good situation.”

Of course, Brett, one of the reasons Rodgers didn’t “do it sooner” was that you wouldn’t leave the stage.

On the other hand, now that I consider it, Rodgers won a Super Bowl in his third year as a starter. You, Brett, won a Super Bowl in your fifth year as a starter.

Rodgers being Rodgers, he deftly deflected Favre’s implied criticism.

“I'm just going to say that I was really proud of our team," Rodgers said. "It takes 53 guys to win a championship and we had the right recipe last year and we're trying to do the same thing this season.”

Ultimately, Rodgers may have more success than Favre. Or me may not. But the question of who has more class is already decided.

Friday column: Tragedy doesn’t always have the last word

In the last few days I’ve been thinking about healing.

The thoughts began with seeing photos of 6-year-old Cooper Stone visiting Rangers Ballpark in Arlington, Texas, where his father fell to his death July 7.

You remember: Cooper had watched as his father, Shannon, reached for a ball thrown into the stands by Cooper’s favorite player, Josh Hamilton, only to lose his balance and fall to concrete 20 feet below.

Shannon kept consciousness long enough to ask people to look out for his son; then he died.

Less than three months later, Cooper returned to the park to throw out the ceremonial first pitch before Texas’ playoff opener with Tampa Bay. He threw it, of course, to Hamilton.

Hamilton grappled with what to say to Cooper and his mother, Jenny, but the right words came — providentially.

“I’m not good with speeches,” Hamilton said. “Not good with knowing what I’m going to say before. Because I rehearse it too much and it don’t sound genuine.

“So I just kind of let it happen. It worked out good. … You could tell she was really emotional about coming back to the park,” Hamilton said about Jenny.

“The little one, he’s young enough where he understands but at the same time it’s not as emotional for him as it is mom.”

One has the feeling that Jenny went through the experience of visiting the place her husband died for Cooper’s sake.

“They have turned a difficult return to The Ballpark into a once-in-a-lifetime experience for Cooper,” she said in a statement. “Nothing could be more exciting for a boy than throwing out the first pitch to his favourite player.”

Healing is a process, a journey — often a long one — but from the look on Cooper’s face in The Associated Press photos of the day, it appears that at least that journey has begun.

To see the photos, go over to Newser.com, find the sports category (under “more”) and scroll down to the story. It’s worth your time.

And it’s worth your time to find a recent Religion News Service story about Terri Roberts.

If the name doesn’t ring a bell, try that of Charlie Roberts, her son.

If that doesn’t do it, try 10 Amish schoolgirls shot in Nickel Mines, Pa., in 2006.

Charlie was the shooter.

Three girls died at the scene, two more died the next day. Five were seriously injured. After shooting the girls, Charlie killed himself.

In a suicide note, the 32-year-old said he was angry at God for the miscarriage of his first child.

I bet you remember this: The response of the Amish community was exemplary, amazing, gracious — pick your adjective.

A grandfather of a murdered girl told his pastor, “We must not think evil of this man.”

Within hours of the tragedy, an Amish neighbor went to the home of Charlie’s parents to comfort Terri and her husband, Chuck. Dozens of Amish neighbors attended Charlie’s funeral.

The Religion News Service story tells of the Robertses’ response to that kindness.

Three months after the shooting, Charlie’s parents began visiting the victims and their families, and Terri started inviting the surviving girls and their mothers to picnics and tea parties at her home.

Think of that.

And they came. Think of that.

Then Terri found the nerve, the heart, the — pick your adjective — to begin visiting Rosanna King, the most damaged of the survivors of her son’s rampage.

Terri, the story says, bathes and talks to the paralyzed girl weekly, brushes her hair and sings hymns.

The story continues: “After the first few visits, Terri cried all the way home. ‘Lord, I can’t do this,’ she said. But she went back the next week, and the next.”

Pain — off-the-chart pain — all the way around.

I’m not naïve enough to think that emotional healing, let alone the beginning of emotional healing, takes away all pain. But with so many things, people, situations today appearing beyond healing, I find it healing to simply see it in progress.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Friday column: New York’s Reyes loses by the way he won

Ted Williams was a difficult character. Prideful and touchy.

Prickly, you could say.

This attitude — some of which probably stemmed from a childhood that was less than nurturing — resulted in a fractious relationship with reporters and columnists, whom he sneeringly referred to as “knights of the keyboard.”

That, in turn, cost him some major awards voted on by said “knights,” who questioned Williams’ commitment to the defensive side of the game and his commitment to team.

But no one — not even his press box prosecutors — questioned Williams’ courage, not after his service as a naval aviator in World War II and Korea.

Williams showed his guts on the baseball field, too, most notably on Sept. 28, 1941.

Williams entered the day with a batting average of .3996. As that would be rounded out to .400 and make Williams the first hitter to achieve that lofty mark since 1924, manager Joe Cronin suggested his left fielder sit out the season’s final day, a doubleheader against the Philadelphia Athletics.

“Teddy Ballgame” back into a .400 average? Not bloody likely.

“If I can’t hit .400 all the way,” Williams said, “I don’t deserve it.”

Williams played — both games — going 6-for-8 to finish at .406.
Fast forward precisely 70 years.

Going into the last day of the regular season, Mets shortstop Jose Reyes isn’t flirting with .400, but he does have a very slight lead over Ryan Braun in the National League batting race.

So he conceives a stratagem: Get a hit in his first at-bat, then leave the game for a pinch runner. That way, Braun will have to go 3-for-3 or 3-for-4 to beat him for the Silver Bat.

Reyes gets manager Terry Collins’ approval and executes his plan perfectly, dumping a bunt single down the third-base line in the first inning, then heading for the dugout — and infamy.

The first indication of the response Reyes would get came in the form of boos from his own fans, many of whom came to the game — meaningless in terms of the standings — to see the star shortstop play.

Reyes’ reaction to the hubbub was predictable for a professional athlete who’s just used very poor judgment: The fans have to understand the situation, he said, and, in any case, he “doesn’t care what anyone says.”

Which is good to know. That being the case, let me say the following: Reyes’ move was nothing short of gutless, and one that he will come to regret.

Furthermore, the move by necessity involved his manager’s cooperation, and now Collins, too, is tainted.

Yes, Collins could have told his 28-year-old star to man up, could even have told the story of Williams and .406, but it is a rare skipper who would question the cojones of a soon-to-be free agent whom he hopes will re-sign with his team.

It is said that comparisons are invidious; perhaps, but they certainly are inevitable. Reyes and Williams’ names are now inextricably linked.

Reyes will get his Silver Bat, but it will come with an asterisk. In baseball’s record book, the keystroke will be invisible — but perfectly readable all the same.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com. The Anti-Fan will be moving to Sundays in November.

Shrug this

So.

Manny Ramirez wants to play winter ball in the Dominican Republic. And why?

The president of the Cibao Eagles said the steroid cheat wants to “play before the Dominican fans and to perhaps motivate other Major League stars to also play in the country.”

Yes, always thinking of others — that’s our Manny.

Unfortunately, being a steroid cheat, Manny still owes Major League Baseball a 50-game suspension. And now Manny’s ready to serve it, if only some big-league team will sign him.

“It would be really sad if I'm not allowed to play.” Manny said Wednesday.

Sad? It would be tragic.

Especially since Manny apparently needs to get out of town — thanks to a domestic-violence beef he’s facing.

His wife told police he slapped her. Manny says he just “shrugged her” and she hit her head on a headboard.

I have a feeling every team in Major League Baseball is going to “shrug” him.

Friday column: Conferences and money, money and conferences

So.

An audit shows the Department of Justice overspent just a smidge on food at conferences.

Like $16 per muffin overspend. Like $5 per meatball overspend.

Well, lawyers gotta eat, right?

The department’s inspector general reviewed 10 conferences held between October 2007 and September 2009. The conclusion:

“Some conferences featured costly meals, refreshments, and themed breaks that we believe were indicative of wasteful or extravagant spending.”

Like beef Wellington appetizers at $7.32 a pop. Speaking of pop, a “themed break” of popcorn, Cracker Jack and candy bars cost — you’re sitting down, yes? — 32 bucks a shot.

Surprised? Of course not. That’s what happens when people (in this case, bureaucrats) spend money that’s not theirs (in this case, ours).

But I don’t want to talk about money. I want to talk about college football.

No, about money.

No, about college football.

Wait? What am I thinking? Talking about college football is talking about money.

The 68 teams that comprise the six largest conferences made $1.1 billion in 2010, and many schools are looking to make more, mainly by establishing so-called mega-conferences.

Conferences are breaking up and re-forming, not unlike amoebas.

As you’ll recall from your high-school biology days, “the amoeba moves by continually changing its body shape, forming extensions called pseudopods [false feet] into which its body then flows. The pseudopods also are used to surround and capture food — mainly bacteria, algae, and other protozoa.” (Thank you, encyclopedia.com.)

But whereas amoebas move to capture food, football schools move to capture money, television money. Thus:

Nebraska to the Big 10, Colorado and Utah to the Pac-10, Boise State, Fresno State and Nevada to the Mountain West, Texas A&M to the SEC, Pittsburgh and Syracuse to the ACC, etc., etc. Texas and Oklahoma also may leave the Big 12 and, despite recent pronouncements to the contrary, perhaps to the Pac-whatever-integer-it-is-now.

That would be something: Texas in the same conference with Oregon, which is over 2,000 miles away. On the other hand, if Texas Christian can play in the Big East — which it will beginning next season — why not?

The losers in all this are the smaller football schools — the Kansas States and Iowas of the world, say — and fans who care about traditional rivalries, many of which date back to the early part of last century. (The rivalries, I mean … though some of the fans do, too.)

But while rivalries and tradition and, of course, concern over increased travel time for the student-athletes, surely count for something, that something can’t begin to compete with the lure of increased dollars.

Syracuse basketball coach Jim Boeheim put it this way:

“If conference commissioners were the founding fathers of this country, we would have Guatemala, Uruguay and Argentina in the United States,” he said during a speech to the Monday Morning Quarterback Club in Birmingham, Ala. “This audience knows why we are doing this. There’s two reasons: money and football.”

He’s right, of course, but also wrong. College football and money are the same thing.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

The Anti-Fan will be moving to Sundays in November.

Instant perspective

Recommended reading (highly): Paul Daugherty's piece on a high school golfer named Ryan Korengel.

Here's the lead:

"In a persistent and healing rain, the 15-year-old golfer summons sunshine. He limps a little; he is legally blind. He plays one-handed, because the tree limb that fell three years ago crushed his skull and paralyzed his left side. It hasn’t affected his game much, though, or his spirit at all."

Later in the story, asked why he isn't depressed, Ryan answers,
“I can still go to school,” says Ryan. “I’m alive. I can play golf.”

The story's worth a read:

http://news.cincinnati.com/article/20110912/COL03/309120122/Doc-one-arm-nearly-blind-golfer-succeeds

Friday column: Money has nothing to do with it

Plaxico Burress doesn’t like New York Giants coach Tom Coughlin, which he made clear in a recent interview for Men’s Journal.

Burress discussed Coughlin’s reaction to the wide receiver accidentally shooting himself in a nightclub — a gun-law violation for which he would spend 20 months in prison.
“After my situation happened,” Burress said, “I turned on the TV and the first words out [Coughlin’s] mouth was ‘sad and disappointing.’

“I’m like, forget support — how about some concern? I did just have a bullet in my leg. And then I sat in his office, and he pushed back his chair and goes, “I’m glad you didn’t kill anybody!’ Man, we’re paid too much to be treated like kids. He doesn’t realize that we’re grown men and actually have kids of our own.”

As a Pittsburgh Steeler, this grown man was fined for not bothering to show up for practice. As a New York Giant, he sulked and reportedly feigned injury when unhappy with his contract and was suspended and fined for violating team rules.

This grown man twice has had temporary restraining orders issued against him after domestic disturbances. This grown man has been sued nine times since joining the NFL in 2000, including by a woman who claims Burress’ $140,000 Mercedes Benz hit the back of her car, causing her permanent injury. The accident occurred three days after the millionaire athlete’s insurance had been canceled for nonpayment of premium.

Burress is 34.

* * *

Kurt Busch doesn’t like the truth, an attitude he displayed in a couple of ways Saturday after a NASCAR race in which he tangled with Jimmie Johnson — again.

Joe Menzer’s mild questioning of Busch about his contentious relationship with Johnson resulted in the driver yelling expletives at Menzer and calling him names. Reportedly, Busch had to be physically restrained from going after the NASCAR.com reporter.

Later, Jenna Fryer of The Associated Press asked Busch a question about the driver claiming to be “in Johnson’s head” only to be cut off with “I didn’t say that.”

Shown the transcript, Busch grabbed it from Fryer and tore it up and threw it down.

Busch has a history of run-ins with other drivers and is no stranger to poor decisions — witness his 2005 arrest on charges of drunken driving and reckless driving.

Busch is 33.

* * *

The Williamses — Serena in particular — do not like facing up to facts.

Type in Serena’s name followed by the word “blame” and you’ll find “Williams blamed a headache,” “Williams blamed the tennis balls,” “Williams blames not tying her shoelaces right” and so on.

On Sunday, her mother, Oracene, took up Serena’s cause after her loss to Samantha Stosur in the finals of the U.S. Open, a loss low-lighted by Williams’ invective against the chair umpire that included the following:

“Aren’t you the one who screwed me over last time here? Do you have it out for me?

“You’re out of control.”

“You’re a hater, and you’re just unattractive inside.”

In 10 days Serena will be 30.

Serena, of course, also blew up in a 2009 U.S. Open semifinal when called for a foot fault against Kim Clijsters, her profanity-laced tirade at a line judge leading to a $10,000 fine from the U.S. Tennis Association and a record $82,500 fine from Grand Slam committee director Bill Babcock.

Oracene seemed to encapsulate the family attitude Sunday when she told reporters, “It’s just always something. And it seems to happen to us.”

Seems to happen to us.

It doesn’t happen to the Williams sisters; they create it. The same way they created their rise from the municipal courts of Compton, Calif., to centre court at Wimbledon.

That was their doing. Serena has won eight Grand Slam singles titles and is arguably the greatest female player in history. That’s her doing.

She’s also arguably the most boorish female player in history; that’s also her doing.

“Man,” Plaxico Burress complained, “we’re paid too much to be treated like kids.”

Really?

Friday column: The girl’s all right; the toddler, too

I think Michelle Wie had too much too soon.

Too much ability; too much publicity; certainly too much parental involvement in her golf career.

Now, according to Annika Sorenstam, she doesn’t have enough — enough interest in her sport.

“I think her focus, in my opinion, should be more on golf,” the retired champion said. “She’s very distracted with school, doesn’t really play as much full time as I thought she would. I think she needs to come out here and compete more regularly.”

Wie’s reply was spot-on.

“I think everyone’s entitled to their own opinion,” Wie said. “I’m making my own decisions, though, and going to Stanford was something I needed to do for myself. It was not a decision made for my golf career, it was really solely a decision I made. It’s been one of the first things in my life I did for myself.”

In other words, it wasn’t a golf career decision, Annika; it was a life decision.

“Growing up in the spotlight, playing tournaments when I was 12, I grew up a lot faster than maybe I had to,” Wie said. “Going to college helped me be a normal 18-year-old and that was something I needed. I could keep training, but I needed something more to help me be well-rounded.

“I dreamed all my life about going to Stanford. My grandpa was a visiting professor; both my aunt and uncle went to Stanford. My dad, he didn’t get into Stanford so that was kind of a competitive thing for me. I’ve been obsessing about going there since I was 4. It was never an option for me to not go to school.”

There were times I wondered about Wie; now I rather have the feeling that she’ll be OK — and she’ll probably win a few golf tournaments, too.

* * *

As a rule, I don’t root for teams, but I’ll make an exception for Western Missouri this season after two of its football players saved a toddler from death.

Following their Aug. 23 practice, on a day when temperatures hit 95 in St. Joseph, Mo., defensive backs Jack Long and Shane Simpson were driving away when they saw a woman desperately beating on the window of a car.

They could have kept driving — someone else’s problem, you know?

They didn’t.

“We thought she maybe had locked her keys in the car, but then thought that was kind of an extreme thing to do for keys,” said Long.

Well, Teresa Gall had locked her keys in the car — along with her 17-month-old grandson, Liam. The child, after crying and vomiting, now was beginning to lose consciousness.

“I was panicked and horrified,” Gall said. “He was crying and getting sick, and I couldn’t get to him.”

Gall couldn’t break the car window. No such problem for Simpson — one swing.

“I couldn’t believe it. We were hitting the glass as hard as we could and nothing,” Gall said. “All I could think was ‘God, please send somebody.’ ”

Prayer answered. Child saved.

The players refused any money for the rescue, appropriately enough (how much is your grandchild worth?)

In any case, Go Griffons.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Friday column: Not sure I’d cash these assertions

Former NBA player Javaris Crittenton, best known for playing quick-draw (with real weapons) with then-teammate Gilbert Arenas in a gambling dispute, has a new claim to fame — murder suspect.

Police say Crittenton, who was robbed of some bling in April, thought he saw the perp walking down an Atlanta street. So, allegedly, he did what any of us would do — whip out a gun and fire from his SUV in the perp’s general direction.

Unfortunately, the specific direction turned out to be the leg of Jullian Jones, a 22-year mother of four standing outside her house. She died in surgery.

On the lam for a few days, Crittenton has now turned himself in, professing innocence. I’m sure you can take his avowal to the bank.

Of course, if you took his denial of the 2009 locker-room showdown with Arenas to the bank, you found his veracity lacked sufficient funds.

Both of Crittenton’s gun incidents (one proven, one alleged) seem beyond stupid. Yet Crittenton is not a stupid man, evidenced by his a 3.5 high school GPA. The explanation for his latest screw-up, if true, may lie not in his head, but in his heart.

Asked about his former teammate after Crittenton was put on probation and suspended for a year for the locker-room gun incident, Arenas said he had heard Crittenton had become “more hard.” More hard as in “more gansta.”

“You know, like some people turn over a new leaf when something bad like that changes their life,” Arenas said. “I heard Javaris went the other way — he became more ’hood, more hardened in that way. I don’t know if that’s the case, but that’s what I heard.”

If Crittenton is convicted and imprisoned, he’ll get all the gansta he can handle.

* * *

A fondness not for gangsta life but for John Barleycorn seems behind another incident, less damaging but still repugnant, in which a number of LSU football players were involved in a bar fight that sent four people to the hospital.

One of the victims has a facial fracture, a concussion, fractured teeth and facial and body bruises. The fractured teeth might have come courtesy of LSU starting quarterback Jordan Jefferson, whom a witness recalls seeing kicking the man in the head.

After being hit with felony charges of second-degree battery, Jefferson (along with linebacker Josh Johns) was suspended indefinitely, a miscarriage of justice that his attorney seeks to repair by asking LSU head coach Les Miles to reverse his decision.

“It is more than unjust to destroy this young man’s career if it’s all about a bunch of nothing, which is what I think,” defense attorney Lewis Unglesby said Monday.

Actually a true translation of Unglesby’s last phrase from lawyer into English would read, “which is what I am paid to think, or at least am paid to say I think.”

Not that I for a minute would question the attorney’s sincerity or his opinion of the young man in question.

I’m quite sure you can take them both to the bank.

Friday column: Changes likely? Not with cash on the table

There are real divisions in our society and in the world, and then there are made-up divisions that sometimes can match the real divisions in terms of passion.

Team sports are made-up divisions.

My team vs. your team; my city vs. your city; my school vs. your school; my colors vs. your colors.

Made-up. Silly. Infantile.

So why do made-up divisions exist? Two reasons:
1) In the form of athletic competition, such divisions often prove entertaining.

2) From such divisions there is money is to be made.
One of the ways it is made is the selling of alcohol at sporting events.

Big business.

And big trouble.

A 1999 study by the Harvard School of Public Health College concluded that 53 percent of sports fans usually binge when they drink.

Fueled by booze, fan behavior is often coarse and can turn criminal — witness Saturday’s shooting at Candlestick Park, reportedly sparked by a combination of alcohol and someone’s decision to wear a shirt that said “[Bleep] the 49ers.” Yes, the reported shooter was wearing a Raiders jersey.

Another man also was shot, and in an unrelated incident, a third man was savagely beaten in a bathroom.

Ironically, the victims were taken to the same hospital where Giants fan Bryan Stow tries to recover from a beating on opening day at Dodger Stadium, another incident apparently fueled by booze and someone’s dislike of the logo on someone else’s shirt.

Hey, take me out to the ball game!

On second thought, don’t.

I’ve played sports most of my life, and have had many wonderful moments watching sports. I am not against competition.

I am against the loss of perspective that leads to the poisoning of 130-year-old trees at Auburn, that leads to a beating in L.A., shootings in San Francisco and more fan thuggary than pro sports would like to admit.

I am against the loss of perspective that leads to universities selling their integrity for TV money and booster donations (hello, Miami and Nevin Shapiro).

Yes, I know, schools peddle their virtue for more than dollars — they do it also for the reflected glory of “their” team scoring more points than someone else’s team on a given day.

Pathetic, really.

But as in so many things, the bottom line is the bottom line.

While fans find made-up divisions entertaining, pro teams find them profitable — and more profitable with alcohol sales and alcohol sponsorship. Universities — many of which, incidentally, also sell booze in their stadiums and arenas — find that a winning football team can do more for student recruiting and for attracting alumni dollars than a lineup of top professors.

All of which means …

Despite all the hand-wringing about the corruption in Miami and the violence in L.A. and San Francisco, expect college corruption and fan violence both to continue.

Why?

Too much money to be made. And that’s not made up.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Somebody tell poor Al (OK, I will)

You have to feel for Al Golden.

He's the man took the Miami football coaching job without knowing about the bubbling NCAA investigation into truly mind-boggling allegations of corruption.

Before he took the reins of a program that might be line for the NCAA "death penalty," Golden sort of wishes he'd been told about the probe.

"Only if they knew," Golden said, being much more charitable than I think he'll be down the road. "If they knew this was percolating, I believe they did have a responsibility to tell me."

Trying to make lemonade out of lemons, he added, "But look, I'm happy here. My wife is happy here. We've got great kids on this team. We have commitments from 24 young men and their families that appreciate and share our core values moving forward."

Hate to break it to you, Al: You HAD commitments from 24 young men and their families. With the U looking to be on probation till, quite possibly, Kingdom Come, you can kiss those commitments goodbye.

A nugget from Andrew

After a while, you get a nose for these things.

So, as soon as I saw the deck head on the Los Angeles Times interview with Andrew Bynum, I sensed there would be gold in them thar words.

The 7-footer Lakers center last made news on the court when he viciously slammed his forearm into Lilliputian Mavericks guard J.J. Barea in Game 4 of Dallas’ sweep.

He last made news off the court by parking his BMW in two — count them, two — handicapped parking spaces at a Bristol Farms Market in Playa del Rey, then fleeing from a TV reporter wanting to ask him about it.

So when I saw a story with the headline “Andrew Bynum says Lakers 'need to come back ... ready to win' ” and with a deck that included, “He won't discuss disabled-parking reports,” it was time to go prospecting.

Didn’t take me long to find what I was looking for.

There, in the answer to a reporter’s first question, are the words, “It's about being accountable. Me included.”

Three questions later Bynum is asked, “What happened in that parking incident at the grocery store?”

And his answer: “I'm not talking about that.”

Beautiful.

Friday column: College corruption has a new face

So.

Nevin Shapiro, in prison for a 20-year stretch for devising a $930 million Ponzi scheme, tells Yahoo! Sports he provided “impermissible benefits” to 72 of the university’s football players and other “student-athletes” between 2002 and 2010.

Impermissible benefits? How would you define those, Nevin?

Well, according to The Associated Press’ account, Shapiro told Yahoo that he gave players “money, cars, yacht trips, jewelry, televisions and other gifts … Shapiro also claimed he paid for nightclub outings, sex parties, restaurant meals and in one case, an abortion for a woman impregnated by a player.”

Cash, sex parties, an abortion. Yes, I guess those qualify as impermissible. Talk about your full-service booster. Shapiro puts all previous D-I sugar daddies to shame.

Shapiro, all 5-foot-5 of him, apparently liked basking in the reflected glory of strapping 19-year-old athletes while they, feigning friendship, liked basking in the bling and the babes. But when Shapiro was sent to the big house, Hurricanes past and present suddenly developed memory issues.

Nevin who?

This rather specific form of amnesia led to the well-researched and well-documented Yahoo story, with Shapiro starring as The Informer.

Hell hath no fury like a jock sniffer scorned.

“I can tell you what I think is going to happen,” Shapiro told Miami television station WFOR from federal prison in Atlanta. “Death penalty.”

“Death penalty” is slang for the NCAA banning a school from competing in a sport for at least a year. The death penalty has been given only five times in the history of college sports; programs do not recover from it easily or quickly.

And Shapiro might be right.

The NCAA on Wednesday said it has been probing Shapiro’s reputed malefactions for five months and that, if true, the allegations demonstrate the need for “serious and fundamental change” in college sports.

You think?

The Yahoo story is worth going to not only for the blow-by-blow account of Miami’s utter corruption but for the photos than help illustrate it.

There’s Shapiro in a 2003 shot, one arm around Hurricane star tight end Kellen Winslow Jr., the other holding a large bottle of … well, it doesn’t look like lemonade, in Shapiro’s VIP section of Opium Garden nightclub.

There’s Shapiro on his yacht playing best friends forever with linebacker Jonathan Vilma and lineman William Joseph.

There’s Shapiro leaning into the frame of a 2008 photo with then-basketball head coach Frank Haith, one of seven Miami coaches Shapiro says were well acquainted with his illicit activities.

But the best photo of all is a snap taken during a 2008 basketball fundraiser.

Shapiro, fairly glowing with self-esteem, is speaking into a hand-held mic. On his right, a smiling Haith rests his hand on Shapiro’s shoulder. On Shapiro’s left is university President Donna Shalala, looking like a kid at Christmas who’s just been given a shiny, red bicycle.

She’s gleefully staring at a $50,000 check from Shapiro as though it can’t be real.
Guess what, Donna? In a way — since it reportedly came from Ponzi scheme funds — it wasn’t.

But the NCAA investigation, Donna, and the possibility of the death penalty — along with the likelihood of your suddenly developing a pressing need to spend more time with your family — are very real, indeed.

College corruption has a new face, one that will be hard to top.

Go, Canes.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

For old times' sake

Ah, teamwork

It’s nice, isn’t it, when football opponents can put away their differences and work together on a common cause.

Robbery, say.

Colorado’s Bryce Givens and Syracuse’s Jonathan Miller, former high school teammates, got together in Boulder to reminisce, catch up on old times, and reportedly commit a crime.

The victim told police he was confronted by two men at 3:30 a.m. in Boulder. Miller allegedly hit the victim in the face before the pair grabbed the man’s cellphone and cash. Givens and Miller were later arrested.

Givens, smart child that he is, already was on thin ice in Boulder because of a vandalism arrest. Now he’s on no ice — having been booted from the Buffaloes’ program.

No word yet from Syracuse on what will happen to Miller.

NCAA for you on Line 2

Uh-oh.

Just when you thought it was safe to bring out your scarlet and gray pom-poms …

When the NCAA said Ohio State wouldn’t be charged with lack of institutional control, the Buckeyes thought they were past the worst of Tressel-gate.

Now comes word that THE Ohio State has been informed that the NCAA is not through with OSU, and in fact is investigating other issues involving the football program.

Ohio State is yet to publicly disclose that fact, surprising considering how forthcoming the school was throughout the Tressel debacle …

Extenuating circumstances

Sure, it looked bad when Texas safety Christian Scott was arrested and charged with misdemeanor assault with bodily injury.

And sure, the news that the alleged victim was a woman doesn't help his cause.

But it’s not nearly as bad as it looks.

Yes, as it turns out, the charges involve Scott pulling a woman out of a car and flinging her to the ground. But hey, it was a repo-woman, coming to take away his Caddy.

I mean, what’s a college senior suppose to do when someone comes to take away his ride?

So what if he was behind on payments? He’s a college football player — he shouldn’t have to make payments at all …

Friday column: High road not always that elevated

It’s OK to stomp out of camp because you’re unhappy with your contract.

It’s not OK to dissemble about why you left and then throw a reporter under the bus because you haven’t got the stones to handle whatever criticism may come your way.

Cortland Finnegan, a top-tier cornerback, may have a beef over what he’s being paid — I don’t know. Pro football being the brutal spectacle it is, I don’t have a problem with players doing whatever they need to do to get top dollar.

But after walking out of Tennessee’s training camp last week, Finnegan, instead of manning up about the reason, took to Twitter to say:

“My absence had nothing to do with a holdout [but was a] personal matter that Titan officials were aware of.”

He then took after Tennessean beat writer Jim Wyatt, who had indicated Finnegan’s absence was caused, indeed, by cash considerations.

“Who and where did this all stem from,” Finnegan tweeted. “Let me guess a tweet and then Wyatt jumped to conclusions with no real story.”

What’s that old line? “Whenever someone says it’s not about the money, it’s about the money.”

To his credit, this week Finnegan admitted the obvious and apologized not only to his teammates and the organization but also to Wyatt.

That showed a little class.

Speaking of a little class — very little — we have Tiger Woods’ ex.

No, no, not ex-wife — ex-caddie, though Steve Williams, in fact, reacted to his recent firing like the proverbial woman scorned.

Williams not only publicly ripped Woods for the move, he brought up Woods’ embarrassing sex scandal, stressing how the caddie had stayed the course with the suddenly disgraced golfer.

“I’m not disappointed in the fact that I got fired,” Williams keened, “but I’m just disappointed in the timing of it, given the fact about how loyal I have been to him. And that loyalty obviously didn’t mean much to him.”

Williams, who in his days with Woods often resembled a braying donkey, was in rare form Sunday when his new employer, Adam Scott, won the World Golf Championships-Bridgestone Invitational.

In the post-tournament interview, Williams called Scott’s victory “the most satisfying win of my career,” used the word “I” more than two dozen times and rarely referred to Scott, the man who’d actually swung the clubs.

The next day, Williams allowed that he was “bit over the top.”

Right, and Monday’s Dow Jones average was a tad off.

Woods, in a Wednesday interview, was restrained, acknowledging that Williams had been intemperate, but saying, “Adam has been a friend of mine, and same with Stevie. I sent Stevie a nice text after completion … congratulating him on his win.”

Good for Woods for taking the high road, but then taking a higher road than Steve Williams is really not all that difficult to do.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Maybe there's a cream ...

Recommended reading: Tracee Hamilton's Washington Post column on the latest trouble Alex Rodriguez has managed to get himself into — no, not steroids again, but high-stakes gambling, against which he'd been warned. Writes Hamilton: All baseball can do is suspend Rodriguez, "because let’s face it: They can’t make him smarter. If only someone could come up with an injection for that."

http://www.washingtonpost.com/sports/redskins/alex-rodriguez-usually-bluffing-rarely-a-safe-bet/2011/08/04/gIQA2V0MuI_story.html

Oh, and a Red Ryder BB gun ...

From the Washington Post:

Roger Clemens wants charges dropped, no new trial

"Attorneys for former All-Star pitcher Roger Clemens asked a federal judge in Washington to dismiss charges that the Major League baseball legend lied to Congress about using steroids and asked the court to prevent prosecutors from trying him again after his first trial ended in a mistrial this month."

I'm guessing Clemens would also like a personal apology for anyone who ever doubted him, a unanimous, first-ballot entry into the baseball Hall of Fame and milk and cookies for life.

Just asking

They say, “set a thief to catch a thief?”

But do you set a coach with a drinking problem to rehabilitate a player with a drinking problem?

You do, if you’re South Carolina.

Tuesday, head coach Steve Spurrier reinstated quarterback Stephen Garcia, recently suspended for the fifth time in his Gamecock career. Most incidents have involved alcohol.

Watching over Garcia will be quarterbacks coach G.A. Magus.

If that name sounds familiar, it’s probably because of Magus’ recen
t arrest for allegedly urinating in the street outside a Greenville, S.C. bar.

According to the police report, Mangus was urinating on the curb and roadway. When officers questioned Mangus, he appeared "unsteady on his feet and he had a strong odor of alcoholic beverage coming from his person.”

The report said that Mangus’ eyes were dilated and glazed over, his speech was slurred and “he was uncooperative in proving straight answers.”

He was scheduled to appear in court Aug. 26. Like Garcia, Magus had been suspended. Like Garcia, on Tuesday, he was welcomed back to the fold.

“We insist that those in the athletics department who work with our student-athletes on a daily basis are held to a higher standard of conduct,” athletic director Eric Hyman.

Is not getting blasted and not urinating in public really considered a “higher standard” at South Carolina?

Friday column: Integrity questions? Heaven forbid ...

It’s an unfortunate but illuminating choice of words.

“No one likes a cloud of accusations and questions about integrity,” new Pacific 12 commissioner Larry Scott said at the conference’s recent media day. “That’s not the Pac-12 brand.”

Use of brand, of course, suggests the word commodity — that, after all, is what you brand — which would refer not only to the competition college football sells but also to the people who do the competing, the players.

In college sports, branding and selling are what matters, in spite of the NCAA’s mission statement, which in part burbles that the organization’s purpose is to “integrate intercollegiate athletics into higher education so that the educational experience of the student-athlete is paramount.”

The educational experience of the student-athlete is not paramount in any of the NCAA’s member institutions. Winning (and making money) is. And to win, you need a superior commodity, which is why, it appears, the University of Oregon paid talent scout Willie Lyles $25,000 to deliver running back Lache Seastrunk — to whom Lyles had close ties — to Eugene.

Unfortunately for Oregon, paying for players is a rules violation, which is why once word of the transaction got out, the Ducks coaching staff quickly contacted Lyles, asking for some actual scouting material — player evaluations and game tape — that would justify the 25 large.

Again, unfortunately for the Ducks, what Lyles hurriedly put together included useless and outdated material that, once released, made Oregon coach Chip Kelly an object of ridicule — and investigation.

Which is why Kelly recently was peppered with questions about the scandal, questions he said he wasn’t at liberty to answer — much to his chagrin.

“I’d love to talk about it,” he said. “There are a lot of answers I’d love to make sure we get out there.”

Sure, Chip, you’d just love to answer questions about your apparent duplicity. Well, good news, my friend! The NCAA is coming to Eugene, and you’ll get all the opportunity to talk you could possibly want.

The NCAA is also heading to Baton Rouge, La., home of the LSU Tigers, who also paid money to Lyles for services not rendered.

Yes, there were “scouting reports” that came from Lyles. Unfortunately for head coach Les Miles, they were of the same caliber as those sent to Eugene — worthless.

Asked for specifics about the material, Herb Vincent, LSU senior associate athletic director, said, “I do not have this information and cannot provide this information at this time.”

But you’d love to provide it, wouldn’t you, Herb?

Cutting through the … uh, bunkum … it looks as though both Oregon and LSU paid Lyles to try to deliver players to their institutions of higher learning.

Which is why it’s particularly appropriate that the first big game of the first big Saturday of the season features none other than, yes, the Ducks and Tigers, on national TV.

Call it the Willie Lyles Bowl.

That would be proper branding.

Fair comment

Now, I like Tim Tebow. From my perspective, in fact, what’s not to like?

But that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be touched by honest criticism of his game.

LeBron James feels differently, tweeting of ESPN analyst Merril Hoge’s recent negative analysis of Tebow’s abilities:

“Listened to Merril Hoge today on SC and he was just blasting Tebow. The man hasn't even play a full season and its only his 2nd year in. Guys get on that TV and act like they was all WORLD when they played. How bout encouraging him and wishing him the best instead of hating!!"

Here’s what Hoge said on SportsCenter:

"(Tebow) is awful as far as accuracy goes and what's kind of even more disturbing, he's probably worse moving and running around with the football and throwing than he is from the pocket. Can you get better there? A little bit. If everything is perfect, the pocket, your feet are good, all your fundamentals come into place, the coverage is what you want it, you can be successful. But that doesn't happen at the National Football League. Rarely does that happen."

Newsflash for LeBron: As a fellow athlete, if you want to encourage Tebow, good for you. If a fan wants to encourage Tebow, good for him or her.
But encouragement isn’t Hoge’s job — analysis is.

Dept. of What the …?

Darius Miles is an NBA bust, a high-schooler taken third in the in 2000 draft by the Clippers (need we say more?). In eight years he bounced around with four teams, averaging 10 points and 5 rebounds a game.

He had his moments of acting like a child, most notably during the 2004-05 season when he insulted Portland coach Mo Cheeks with a racial epithet (Cheeks and Miles are shown above), and in 2009 when he was arrested for possession of a small amount of marijuana and driving on a suspended license.

But it wasn’t until this week Miles, 29, did something truly stupid.
According to authorities, Miles tried to bring a firearm through security at Lambert-St. Louis International Airport.

A loaded firearm.

It was unclear if the weapon was found in his carry-on luggage or if Miles was carrying it on his person.

The St. Louis County prosecutor's office will review the case and decide whether charges will be filed.

I’m guessing the answer will be yes.

Friday column: A question of context Not really

James Harrison wants us to know that context is important.

“I did make comments about my teammates when I was talking about the emotional Super Bowl loss,” the Steelers linebacker said in reference to a controversial Men’s Journal story. “But the handful of words that were used and heavily publicized yesterday were pulled out of a long conversation and the context was lost.”

Hmmm.

So, what context would make calling Rashard Mendenhall a “fumble machine” sound better, I wonder.

Or what frame of reference are we lacking to correctly assess Harrison’s words about his quarterback, Ben Roethlsberger: “Hey, at least throw a pick on their side of the field instead of asking the D to bail you out again. Or hand the ball off and stop trying to act like Peyton Manning. You ain’t that and you know it, man; you just get paid like he does.”

Then there’s the anti-gay slang word Harrison used to describe NFL boss Roger Goodell, whom he also called “a crook” and “the devil” and whom said he “hated.” There was worse, actually, but you get the picture.

Harrison teammate Lawrence Timmons doesn’t. According to Timmons, James is a really great guy who’s just … wait for it … that’s right — misunderstood.

The misunderstanding is all Harrison’s.

At 33, Harrison’s no child. If he lets resentment and ego open his mouth and says stupid things to a national publication, he should expect as much “understanding” as a receiver gets going across the middle of the Steelers defense.

* * *

Harrison teammate Rashard Mendenhall wants us to know the importance of free speech.
Free speech is why he’s suing the parent company of Champion, the sports apparel maker; the cool million he’s seeking in damages has nothing to do with it.

Mendenhall, you see, lost his endorsement gig with Champion after tweeting offensive nonsense about the killing of Osama bin Laden.

“For Rashard, this really is not about the money,” his lawyer said. “This is about whether he can express his opinion.”

Well, yes, Rashard, you can express an opinion, and so can Champion — by ending your employment.

* * *

North Korea wants us to know that sometimes things happen beyond our control.
Its loss to the U.S. in the Women’s World Cup, for instance, was the result of five of its players being struck by lighting at practice.

Really.

Oh, and so was the fact that several of its players tested positive for steroids. It has to do with musk deer and glands and traditional Chinese medicine but it all started with that darned lightning strike.

Lightning strike — the sort of thing usually referred to as an Act of God, a legal term for events outside of human control. But as North Korea imposes atheism on its people and doesn’t believe in God, I wonder how they …

Must be a contextual thing. Perhaps James Harrison can explain it.

Friday column: A touch of class breaks out in sport

Abby Wambach first came to my attention three years ago.

In July 2008, Wambach broke her leg in the United States’ final tune-up match before the Beijing Olympics — a devastating blow to an elite athlete.

Yet, instead of bitching and moaning, the then-28-year-old soccer player was the epitome of class, turning the focus away from herself and onto her teammates.

“Yes, I know I’m a very important player for the team,” Wambach told the Los Angeles Times. “But (the injury) made me realize even more how insignificant one player is in a team environment. It really does take a team to win championships.”

Wambach could no longer play, but she still could contribute, and she did by encouraging Natasha Kai, Lauren Cheney and Amy Rodriguez — the three players called upon to replace her.

“So many more people are getting involved. And I’m excited to see how it all turns out,” she said.

As you might remember, it turned out rather well, the Americans taking home the gold medal.

And as for her personal loss, Wambach said, “I don’t feel sorry for myself. I’m not going to cry victim. I’m a moving part on this team. I do not encapsulate the whole. I am a part.”

Sunday in Germany, Wambach, working as part of her team — as always — took a pass from Megan Rapinoe and headed it into the net in the 122nd minute of the match.
The latest goal ever scored in a Women’s World Cup match tied the showdown with Brazil at 2, forcing a shootout, which the Americans won to stay alive in the tournament.
This Sunday, they play Japan for the championship.

To the surprise of no one, Wambach credited a teammate.

“Megan Rapinoe just put that ball on my head. Luckily I didn’t miss and the rest is history,” Wambach said. “It was a perfect ball.”

Yankees shortstop Derek Jeter shares Wambach’s propensity to deflect praise and preach team, but doing that Saturday proved impossible.

That’s because Jeter, needing two hits to become the first Yankee to reach the 3,000-hit plateau, went 5-for-5 with a stolen base and the game-winning RBI.

In the midst of a .257 season and talk that the 37-year-old veteran is no longer carrying his weight, Jeter responded with a magical performance that included a home run — his first of this season at Yankee Stadium — for hit No. 3,000.

Like Wambach, Jeter is an athlete who embodies effort and class. Players like that, regardless of the uniform they wear, are worth noting and emulating.

Christian Lopez apparently agrees.

Lopez, the 23-year-old fan who caught Jeter’s milestone home run ball, a man with $100,000 in student debt, didn’t even think about holding onto the ball to gain a big payday. He simply gave it to Jeter.

Why?

“Mr. Jeter deserved it,” Lopez said. “It’s all his.”

Mister Jeter. Ms. Wambach and, sure, for doing the right thing, let’s call him Mister Lopez.

If you’re a fan of class in sport, last week was a very good week, indeed.

Friday column: Roger Clemens beat rap? Fat chance

Narrow-faced men: Rejoice — you are trustworthy and true.

Or more likely to be, anyway.

Fat-faced men: Rejoice, too.

Yes, you're more likely to lie than your slim-faced brethren but, on the other hand, you're probably more successful in business.

This according to a study reported in The Independent.

The British newspaper said that the study, which tested 192 business students to see how readily they were prepared to lie or cheat in order to gain an advantage, showed "that the width of a man's face relative to his facial height is an indicator of how powerful he feels and of his willingness to surreptitiously break social rules to achieve his goals."

Why? Well, according to the director of the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee study, "Men with larger facial ratios feel more powerful, and this sense of power then leads them to act unethically."

Said The Independent: "The findings suggest that the width-to-height ratio of the face could be an ancient evolutionary signal of a man's aggressiveness when dealing with competitors."

Willingness to bend the rules and to lie might be a selective advantage in Darwinian terms, but it's got to have its drawbacks.

Witness the plight of one William Roger Clemens, whose aggressiveness on the mound helped propel him to 354 big-league wins over a 23-year career. If you believe Major League Baseball's Mitchell Report, many of those wins were also the result of Clemens' willingness to bend the rules when it came to using performance-enhancing drugs.

Was all this good for business? You bet — to the tune of $150 million in career earnings.

On the other hand, Clemens' aggressiveness and sense of power led him to inexplicably charge before Congress and make a number of bald statements — under oath — about never having used steroids or human growth hormone.

His performance was, to put it charitably, a little less than believable, and this week resulted in Clemens being put on trial for perjury.

To a large degree, Clemens' likelihood of becoming a guest of a federal institution depends on the believability of his main accuser, former trainer Brian McNamee, who presented prosecutors with syringes that connect Clemens' DNA with steroids and HGH.

Clemens has an explanation, and of course, it's just possible the pitcher could be telling the truth when he claims that McNamee doctored the syringes in order to blackmail him. We'll wait to see the evidence presented.

In the meantime, let's check the evidence we already can see, keeping the UWM study in mind: Look at Clemens' melon, and now McNamee's.

Hmmm ...

Is it too late for a plea deal?

Don't miss it

Recommended reading: Today's article by the L.A. Times' David Zucchino on a Libyan, Salah Fatour, who cares for the graves of Allied soldiers who died in his country in World War II.

I repeat: Do not miss it.

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-libya-military-cemetery-20110716,0,674939.story

Soul searching? We don’t need no stinking soul searching

Well, give Ohio State trustee Jerry Jurgensen credit — he tried.

"We have a lot to look at in sort of the soul-searching of what is most important in the game of life," Jurgensen said in the wake of the football scandal that cost coach Jim Tressel his job and certainly will cost the school something in the way of NCAA penalties.

"The cracks here weren't really cracks of rules and procedures," he said. "They were cracks in a value system."

How well did that fly in Columbus? You may easily imagine.

"I don't think we have a lot of soul-searching to do, not at all," blurted board chairman and major donor Lex Wexner. "We have a lot of heart-celebrating to do for the good that this university does."

What a clown.

Speaking of clowns, OSU President and Main Bozo Gordon Gee quickly echoed the sentiment of Booster Boy:

"The university is moving forward,” he said, “and we feel very strongly about the fact that we have much to celebrate today."

A little Three Dog Night anyone?

Cel-e-brate … Cel-e-brate … dance to the sanct-ions

An agent lied? My nitrate! My nitrate!

So.

When ESPN last month asked Terrell Owens’ agent, Drew Rosenhaus, if Owens had been injured, the answer was no.

Now word has leaked that the aging Owens — hoping to hoodwink some team into giving him one last, lucrative contract — had surgery to repair a torn anterior cruciate ligament in one of his knees after suffering an injury while taping a reality television show.

And now Rosenhaus is confirming Owens was, indeed, injured, and while he won’t say how it happened, he vigorously denies it was during the taping of a TV show.

And we should believe him … why?

Friday column: What’s in a name? Osama knew

Before his recent departure into other realms, Osama bin Laden had thought that what his struggling terror corporation really needed was a good rebranding.

Al-Qaida al-Jihad — The Base of Holy War — was OK as far as it went; the problem was, it usually didn’t go that far. Lazy journalists with no respect for the difficulty of selecting a proper company moniker would stop with al-Qaida, so the godly rationale for wholesale slaughter of innocent people — The Base of Holy War — was entirely lost on an ignorant public.

Bin Laden had other problems, of course, not least the unhappy fact that most of al-Qaida’s victims were fellow Muslims.

As his company’s recent incendiary transactions have had much more success in Muslim lands than in the West, changing that reality would be most difficult.

Fortunately, there was a better option, one that any number of American CEOs could have recommended.

Just change the name.

When tobacco giant Philip Morris’ name became odious — also for killing people, incidentally — overnight the name became “Altria.” Philip Morris had come to be equated with lying and dying. But Altria not only is a meaningless, pleasant sound, it shares its first four letters with “altruistic.”

Good company. Nice company.

When Anderson Consulting was sadly linked with the corrupt accounting firm Arthur Anderson, from which it had spun off, it suddenly became “accenture.” Which also doesn’t mean anything but sure sounds swell.

So, bin Laden clearly would have been in good name-change company had he been able to pull the trigger, so to speak.

Alas, as SEAL Team Six beat him to it, we’ll never know if he would have gone with “Taifat al-Tawhed Wal-Jihad” (Monotheism and Jihad Group) or “Jama’at I’Adat al-Khilafat al-Rashida,” (Restoration of the Caliphate Group), two of the names he was brainstorming.

I would have suggested something like Beneficorp or Amiaco. In any case, I think it’s clear that the late “Sword of God” could have used a little marketing advice, no?

Now, admittedly, Dodgers owner Frank McCourt is not a terrorist, though I’m not sure you could convince most Los Angeles baseball fans of that. It is clear, however, that he, too, needs marketing help.

In seven years, he’s taken one of the premier names in all of sport and turned it into a laughingstock. After siphoning off at least $100 million from the team for his personal use and that of his equally profligate former spouse, McCourt’s credibility, like his team, is bankrupt.

The bad odor emanating from Chavez Ravine could take years to disperse, which means only one thing:

It’s time to rebrand.

In Brooklyn, before they became the Dodgers, the team was known as the Grooms, the Robins and the Superbas. McCourt could go back to one of those. Or, banking on popular player names from the past, he could call them the Koufaxes or the Robinsons.

But I’m afraid that wouldn’t do it either. Truth is, the only rebranding that will remove the stench attached to the name “Dodgers” is by changing two other words: those next to the word “owner.”

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Friday column: Players who compete to the very end

It may be my favorite Jackie Robinson story.

On Oct. 3, 1951, at 3:58 EST in New York’s Polo Grounds, Giants outfielder Bobby Thomson hit the most famous home run in baseball history.

His three-run, ninth-inning shot erased a 4-2 Brooklyn lead and gave the New York Giants the rubber game of their playoff series with the Dodgers and, with it, the National League pennant.

Well, it did — but not until Thomson had touched all the bases.

As the Giants celebrated wildly and their fans began to rush onto the field, the Dodgers hung their heads, then began trudging toward the visitors clubhouse.

All, that is, but one.

Robinson, the Dodgers second baseman, followed Thomson’s progress around the infield, making sure he hit every bag and home plate. Then, and only then, did Robinson leave the field.

The man who broke baseball’s color line was the ultimate competitor, and even if there was only one chance in a thousand, or ten thousand, of Thomson missing a base in all the excitement, Robinson was not going to stop competing until the game was over — officially.

If Robinson were alive today — he would be 92 — he would have smiled at hearing the story of one Cole Bryant, pitcher for the Newington High baseball team that this month reached the finals of the Connecticut state tournament.

In the bottom of the eighth (high schools play a regulation seven innings), the score 2-2, Bryant gave up a double down the left-field line to Southington’s Sal Romano. Matt Spruill, who had started the rally with a single, took off at the crack of the bat, hitting second, rounding third and heading home.

He easily beat the throw, and his Southington teammates rushed out of the dugout and began celebrating, for Spruill had just given the team its first state crown in 12 years.

Seemingly.

But like Robinson before him, instead of hanging his head, Bryant watched carefully as Spruill neared the plate; the key word is neared.

Distracted by onrushing teammates, Spruill missed home plate and never went back to touch it. Bryant called for his catcher, Tyler Barrett, to hold the ball, step on the plate and appeal the play.

He did and Spruill was ruled out. The game remained tied. Two innings later, Newington won it. Appropriately, it was Bryant who scored the winning run, making quite sure he touched home.

On the game, Bryant pitched all 10 innings, threw 176 pitches, allowing just six hits and fanning 16. For all that, the most impressive thing he did was keep his eyes open and not give up.

Praised his coach: “He’s got so much heart, he’s such a competitor.”

Bryant kept competing, even when the game appeared to be over.

Yes, Robinson would have smiled.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Tell us more ... oh, do!

We do so love sports agents.

Folks like Drew Rosenhaus.

“Terrelle Pryor will be a great -- not a good quarterback -- a great quarterback in the National Football League,” Rosenhaus burbled this week. “He is going to be a star. This experience that he has gone through will galvanize him and make him a better person, a stronger person.”

The experience of helping cost his college coach his job? The experience of helping embarrass Ohio State and probably hamstringing the school’s football program for years?

Yes, yes, bound to galvanize him. Bound to.

Then there’s Rosenhaus' insistence that Pryor is a first-round draft pick, when most draft experts have him no higher than a fourth-rounder.

Reality check: Rosenhaus' newest client isn't going in the first round of the draft. And if he sticks in the NFL at all — no sure thing — it won't be as a quarterback.

Other than on those two things, Super Lips is dead on

Class and location

So.

DeShawn Stevenson claims the Miami Heat lack class.

DeShawn Stevenson, the man with the $5 bill tattoed on his neck.

DeShawn Stevenson, who was arrested for public intoxication the other night.

According to ESPNDallas.com, police in Irving, Texas, were called to an apartment complex at 10:30 p.m. Tuesday night. Stevenson, who doesn’t live at the complex, reportedly had no idea where he was.

The Heat may or may not lack class, but I’m guessing that every one of them knows their current location.

Friday column: A player, and man, to remember

I had forgotten Joe Delaney.

Then I learned that on Saturday the Kansas City Chiefs’ Leonard Pope saved a 6-year-old from drowning. Pope had jumped fully clothed — “cell phone, wallet and everything” — into a pool when he saw the boy go under.

“He saved my son’s life,” Anne Moore, the child’s mother, told a reporter.

“My heart dropped,” Pope, the father of two young girls, told ESPN. “It could have been any child … I just knew I had to do something. I wasn’t waiting on anyone else … to try to pull him out.”

The story I read mentioned another Chief who had made a similar decision 28 years earlier — to the month.

Like Pope, Delaney was a father of young girls. Unlike Pope, Delaney was an uncertain swimmer, at best. Yet when he saw three boys sink in a Louisiana pond with a sharp fall-off, he dove in anyway.

Delaney helped bring one boy to the surface and safety, then went after the other two. Neither they nor he came up alive.

Eleven days after Delaney’s July 4, 1983 funeral, his wife, Carolyn, and their three daughters were presented with his Presidential Citizens Medal.

“He made the ultimate sacrifice by placing the lives of three children above regard for his own safety,” wrote Ronald Reagan. “By the supreme example of courage and compassion, this brilliantly gifted young man left a spiritual legacy for his fellow Americans.”

Undersized as a youth, Delaney nonetheless dreamed of playing college football, and worked diligently to make it happen.

In college at tiny Northwestern State, a Division I-AA school, he dreamed of making the jump to the NFL, and worked diligently to make that happen.

Did he make it? Did he ever.

In his rookie year, Delaney, drafted as a “situation back,” set four team records and made the Pro Bowl, earning this encomium from future Hall of Fame defensive end Elvin Bethea:

“I’ve played against the best — O.J. Simpson, Gale Sayers, Walter Payton — and he ranks right up there with them. … He is great with a capital G.”

But there was more to the man than his football ability.

There was his humility, there was his ability to make friends with anyone he came across, there was his love of family, his love of kids. He spent summers following his first two pro seasons back in tiny Haughton, La., rounding up youngsters for pickup basketball and football games, then taking them out for ice cream.

A 2003 newspaper article about Delaney said that even at that early stage of his career, he was looking beyond his playing days to a time when he would become a counselor or teacher, “something working with kids.”

So his decision to risk his life for three youngsters he didn’t know didn’t come as a surprise to those who knew him, certainly not to his college coach, A.L. Williams.

At Delaney’s funeral — attended by 3,000 mourners packed into a broiling high school gym — Williams recalled getting a phone call from Les Miller, the Chiefs’ director of player personnel.

“He said, ‘I want to talk to you about one of your players.’ I thought something was wrong. But then he said. ‘I just wanted to tell you that Joe Delaney is the finest young man and the hardest worker we’ve ever had here.

“People ask me, ‘How could Joe have gone in that water the way he did?’ And I answer, ‘Why, he never gave it a second thought, because helping people was a conditioned reflex to Joe Delaney.’ ”

The line of cars from the gym to the cemetery stretched 2 miles. Not everyone got close enough to the headstone to read the words at its base: “Greater love hath no man than to lay down his life for another.”

I’m glad Leonard Pope saved that boy’s life Saturday — glad for the boy, glad for his family and glad for me.

For I had forgotten Joe Delaney.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

You tell them, Coach ... I mean, Ex-Coach ...

A group of fans — some 200 or so — recently trotted over to Jim Tressel’s house to confess their undying love to the no-longer-employed football coach.

There were cheers and signs in support. Pictures were taken. Hands were shaken.

And the man of the hour himself addressed the throng, pointing to Ohio State’s next game with Michigan and saying, "Don't forget: Nov. 27th we're going to kick their ass!"

Because of what Tressel’s players have done, apparently for years, and because of his turning a blind eye to the infractions and then lying about them, OSU’s program is in free-fall.

And all he can come up with is, “We’re going to kick their ass!”

Good for you, Jimbo, good for you. Actually, the school that’s really getting kicked in the rear is Ohio State.

Class acts

I was going to write a nice column this week. Really.

A sweet uplifting paean to sportsmanship.

Then Anthony Weiner’s story imploded, I started thinking about Roscoe Conkling, the Thane of Cawdor, Folgers coffee crystals and all things instant, and well, goodbye sportsmanship.

But it’s still worth mentioning here.

Men's tennis has seen its share of bad boys: Ilie Nastase, John McEnroe, Jimmy Connors. et al. But its current crop of male stars — Rafael Nadal, Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic — is largely commendable.

In Sunday’s French Open final, Nadal conceded a point to Federer after a shot by the Swiss star was wrongly called out. Years ago, Federer gave Nadal a lift on his private jet to the next tournament after learning the Spaniard was having trouble finding a commercial flight. In his comments about Nadal and Federer, Djokovic has proven that he belongs with those two not only on court but off as well.

Nadal, Federer and Djokovic prove you can have a great rivalries, intense rivalries without those rivalries turning nasty.

GOOD for them.

We have your answer

So.

Sepp Blatter, potentate of what appears to be the most corrupt organization in all of sport — no small honor — wants to form a "commission of the wise" to help clean up FIFA, the world soccer governing body.

And for members he wants Henry Kissinger, Johan Cruyff and Plácido Domingo.

But Domingo has a question — no, not why is an aging opera singer asked to help clean up soccer? Another question: What might the duties of a member of such a commission entail?

Two letters, Placido: PR.

Friday column: When it’s hot off the synapses, watch out

This week — for some reason — I’ve been contemplating the drawbacks to all things instantaneous, and a line from Macbeth comes to mind. At one point in the play, having decided he’s been a tad too reflective, Macbeth says, “From this moment/The very firstlings of my heart shall be/The firstlings of my hand.”

In other words, “If I think it, I should do it — now!”

As I recall, that approach doesn’t work out all that well for the king.

Why?

Nothing “instant” is good.

Not instant oatmeal, not instant coffee, not instant mashed potatoes.

Not instant messaging. Not instant photos. Certainly not instant messaging combined with instant photos.

Take Anthony Weiner.

Actually, don’t take Weiner. Take another New York congressman, from another era, a politician with similar … urges, say.

Roscoe Conkling will do.

In 1860, Conkling, like Weiner, was a politician on the rise. Like Weiner, he was married but had a wandering eye. Now, imagine Roscoe getting a letter from a female admirer from Texas telling him that he was “hottt” (or the 19th-century equivalent).

Now imagine Roscoe entering the studio of Matthew Brady and asking the famed photographer to take a daguerreotype of him — as quickly as possible. A Pony Express rider is leaving for the Lone Star State in just a few hours.

“You’re in luck, Congressman. I just had a cancellation. Sit right down. Is this a head shot or full-body?”

“Actually, I’d like you to make an image of my … ”

“Yes … ”

“An image of … ”

“Yes?”

“Never mind.”

Even if Roscoe had somehow gotten his desired photo, he’d still have to package it, address it, and hand it to the Pony Express rider, having in each step a moment to reflect if really — deep down — he continued to think this was all such a good idea.

No such moments of possible reflection for Anthony Weiner. Snap, attach and send. Bim. Bam. Boom.

(Especially Boom.)

In the world of sis-boom-bah, any number of sports stars have experienced the pain of TWiTing (Tweeting Without Thinking). Brett Favre, amateur photographer, knows all about it. So does political philosopher Rashard Mendenhall, to name just two.

And so do sports columnists, most notably The Washington Post’s Mike Wise, suspended for a month last year after fabricating and tweeting a “scoop” on Pittsburgh’s Ben Roethlisberger.

(Must have seemed like a good idea at the time.)

Still, more and more journalists are tweeting these days and actually have followers.

So, you ask, when will The Anti-Fan open a Twitter account and start letting fly with unedited thoughts?

Not. Going. To. Happen.

Why?

Nothing instant is good.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Friday column: Gee’s joke may turn out to be prophetic

A Division I football coach has a single job requirement.

Win.

OK, there is a proviso — without embarrassing the university.

All right, there’s an addendum to the proviso — in a way that precludes plausible denial.

Jim Tressel fulfilled the first clause of the job description: a record of 106-22-0 and one national championship. He found the second clause a little harder to negotiate, but largely succeeded in spite of incidents involving Maurice Clarett and others.

It’s the addendum that finally got him.

The administrative stuffed shirts in Columbus who love to mouth platitudes about integrity and winning “the right way” loved Jim Tressel.

They loved the image he projected and they loved the title of the books he wrote (Life Promises for Success: Promises from God on Achieving Your Best). Most of all, they loved all the wins and all the green the wins generated.

They loved Tressel’s gravy train so much that they didn’t even mind being lied to. Remember the news conference following the revelation that Tressel had known about his players’ rules violations all along but had kept mum, deceiving both the NCAA and his bosses?

Remember school president Gordon Gee’s attempted witticism when asked if he had considered firing Tressel? “I just hope the coach doesn’t dismiss me,” the little man laughed.

Make no mistake: If the empty suits at OSU thought they could have ridden out the storm with Tressel, they would have. You don’t fire a coach who beats Michigan nine of 10 times unless you absolutely have to.

And when the muck gets deep enough that your jobs are in jeopardy, you absolutely have to.

In announcing Tressel’s departure, Gee barely mentioned his coach’s name — the first time in months, wrote ESPN’s Ivan Maisel, that Gee had spoken “publicly about Tressel without sounding like a tween gushing over Justin Bieber.”

As recently as two weeks ago, athletic director Gene Smith still supported Tressel. This week, Smith suddenly went from “You’re still our coach” to “Hate to see you go — here’s your hat.”

For that, we can thank Sports Illustrated, which demolished the last fig leaf Ohio State had: the idea that the five players suspended for trading memorabilia for tattoos and cash were involved in an isolated incident.

Five players and a coach cover-up, that’s one thing, albeit pretty bad. Sixty players? During eight years? Involving memorabilia, school property and possibly drugs? That’s quite another thing. Then there’s the other recent reports that as many as 50 Buckeyes got special deals on cars.

NCAA no likey.

The Buckeyes are going to get hammered and when they do — perhaps even before they do — expect a broom to sweep through Columbus. It will bring a touch of irony with it.

Gee joked about being dismissed by Tressel. When he leaves, that, in essence, will be what has happened. And Gee will have deserved his canning just as much as Tressel deserved his.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Wheels within wheels

The latest FIFA corruption scandal has increasingly interesting layers.

You not only have the organization looking at vote buying allegedly conducted by presidential candidate Mohamed bin Hammam, you have another probe into the actions of current president Sepp Blatter, who allegedly overlooked said bribes.

Why would he do that?

Well, two reasons come to mind: 1) Bribery is just business as usual for FIFA jefes and 2) if the bribes went forward, Blatter would have something he might be able to use against bin Hamman when it counted.

But, this is silly talk. Blatter's reputation is unimpeachable. Don't believe me? Well, I call Seth's main character witness, one Vladimir Putin. Yes, that Vladimir Putin, who calls allegations against Blatter "complete nonsense."

Putin was a major player in Russia's uh ... surprising ... winning of the 2018 World Cup (no money changed hands ... no money changed hands .., no money ...) and if the former KGB operator says it's nonsense, I'm sure you can, well, take it to the bank.

Driving takes nerve, reflexes. Brains? Maybe not

So.

Kyle Busch thinks he can go 128 mph in a 45 mph zone and not be noticed.

In a $400,000 Lexus.

A yellow, $400,000 Lexus.

Or at least he did until he was busted Thursday in Concord, N.C.

In his NASCAR races, Busch may move like a rocket but clearly, he's no rocket scientist.