Thanks For Nothing

This is the Thanksgiving edition of the Jesters Quart, but before we get to the holiday-themed portion of the column, I need to touch on two subjects I was noodling through on the way up to the parental homestead in New Jersey this week.

(Oh, and apologize to the dozen or so people who correctly mentioned that Brad Richards, not Marty St. Louis, won the Conn Smythe last season. See what happens when there's no hockey? My brain gets all [Tie] Domi...)

Why can't other cities have fans like New York's? I've lived in (or at least near) DC for about a decade now. I've gotten close with diehard fans from Boston and Philly. I respect each of these places as sports towns.

But driving up to New Jersey and listening to WFAN in New York, I'm reminded why the Big Apple is the best damn sports town period -- the passion of its sports talk. Seriously, there's nothing that satisfies the sports geek in me than hearing some knucklehead from Bayside talking about Eli Manning's pass protection like his child's health depended on its effectiveness (come to thing of it, maybe it was Archie [Manning] on the phone...)

I don't know why sports town like Philly and DC need to blend their sports talk with off-topic conversations about pop culture (listening to the newly-restarted Tony Kornheiser show on Washington's WTEM is sometimes like searching for sports talk during a PBS special on Motown). But in New York, it's a bunch of diehards pouring their hearts out, no matter what the sport is. Often imitated, never duplicated...

One last thought on the Ron Artest mess. What if this scenario had played out: Artest goes into the stands after getting hit with a cup of soda. He bulls past the guy who actually threw it and assaulted some skinny white kid in the crowd, just pummeling him.

So far, that's the way it went down, right? Now let's say this skinny white kid just so happens to have a pocketknife. And let's say he shanks Artest with it, as Artest is beating him for a crime he didn't commit.

What would the police do? Isn't the force this kid is using more appropriate than the force Artest used after getting splashed by a soda? Would the kid have been justified in defending himself?

In other words ... this mess could have been a hell of a lot messier.

Okay, one more Artest thought: if David Stern and the NBA lessen his suspension, it will be a PR disaster for a league already facing enough of them. Keep this lunatic out as long as you can, Dave...

Now, as a part of SportsFan Magazine's Cold Turkey Week, I contributed a list of Things in Sports I'm Thankful For. Here they are, in no particular order:

Mutant Psychic Human Breathalyzer Tests. What an amazing ability American sports columnists seem to have gained overnight! Imagine having the power to look at a videotape, see a scuffle in an arena crowd between fans and players, and somehow deduce (without the benefit of, you know, facts) that the majority of the fans in the melee were intoxicated! This is what happens when you get comped into every sporting event you attend -- you forget that the drunks actually sit in the upper deck.

Mike 'Doc' Emrick. The most painful thing about the NHL lockout is being deprived of the best play-by-play man on broadcast television.

Dating a Fellow Nets Fan. You haven't kissed a girl until you've kissed her while both of you are wearing paper bags on your heads.

The Orange Category in Trivial Pursuit. More sports, less leisure, please.

The Drudge Report. Saves me from having to listen to 300 conservative radio shows and 24 hours of FOX News to hear what the latest Republican talking points are.

Chad Johnson of the Bengals. Sports' best prop comic. This is what would have happened if Carrot Top ever learned how to catch the pigskin. I'd really expecting him to sledgehammer a melon after a touchdown one day.

David Brent of BBC's "The Office." "If you have lost both legs and both arms just go 'at least I'm not dead.' Though I'd rather be dead in that situation to be honest. I'm not saying people like that should be put down. I'm saying that in my life, I'd rather not live without arms and legs 'cuz, you know ... I'm just getting into yoga."

The complete and total submission to fantasy football geeks by every media outlet that covers the NFL on Sundays.

Dave McKenna in the DC City Paper. The only sportswriter I'll openly admit to being jealous of ... well, besides Maria Sharapova's biographer.

And finally ... the promise that, one day, Gary Bettman will (finally) stop breathing.


SportsFan MagazineGreg Wyshynski is also a weekly columnist for SportsFan Magazine. His columns appear every Saturday on Sports Central. You can e-mail Greg at [email protected].

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