Occasionally, I frequent the cafeteria in the building in which I work. The food is alright and the prices used to be reasonable (but as prices have increased, my use of the facility has declined). Anyway, this story is about one of the women that work in the cafeteria, or more directly, about her grandson.

The woman works as a cashier in the cafeteria, and when I first started working in this building, I told her that I had written for television sports shows, and she told me about her grandson. He had been drafted in the late rounds of the 2006 NFL Draft by the Tennessee Titans as a lineman; defensive, I think. (I am very bad with names, and I could certainly ask my friend what her grandson’s name is or look up injury reports on players, but for this post, names truly are irrelevant – trust me.) In any event, she kept me informed on his progress, even showing off a picture that of her and the Titans first round draft pick that year: Quarterback Vince Young. It was nice, and I wished him the best. Unlike what one thinks of relatives of professional athletes, this woman was completely down to earth and it was obvious that she was not expecting to retire from her grandson’s wealth.

It’s a good thing too. The young man suffered a severe knee injury in training camp, which got him on Injured Reserve, and allowed him to get money from the Titans while he rehabbed his injury. My friend the cashier kept me appraised of his progress, and wasn’t down when she told me that since his injury had not improved significantly by the 2007 training camp, her grandson had been released by the team. He tried to catch on in the Arena League, but his injury had not healed up enough for him to play again.

The young man underwent more rehabbing, this time in Arizona his grandmother told me. That had been the last I heard until earlier this week when she told me that he had tried out for the Arena League again, but not only had his bad leg not gotten strong enough to play, but his “good leg” has lost much of its drive and power off the ball. So, he is back in Chicago now.

Again, his grandmother shows nothing but an upbeat attitude, but it was obvious to me that her grandson was now facing a road that many had faced before him, but a daunting one for a young athlete: the potential end of a life long dream. He could continue his workouts, but each day away from football lengthened the odds that he would play in the NFL. And that is the other side of the bright lights, the young men who dreams and either don’t have the talent to play professionally or find their careers suddenly over in the space of one split second play.

This is the reason that I give some slack to many athletes, especially ones who come from inner city or other impoverished backgrounds – to them, this is the only way out of the horrid existence they find themselves in. But the odds are truly against them, and longer than hitting the lottery. Many years ago, (I believe it was 1989 but don’t quote me) I was at home on a national holiday (I worked for the government at that time and we got lots of Monday holidays) and there was nothing on television in the afternoon. So, I happened on a Continental Basketball League game. The old CBA was a semi-pro basketball league for wannabes, has-beens and never-was-es. The announcer on that game (I don’t remember who it was; the CBA announcers were as unknown as the players) must have thought that there were some kids on the other side of the cable wires that day and so he gave a frightening statistic, and one I’ve never forgotten. In 1988, there were 1,989 people in the United States struck by a bolt of lightning that decade; at the same time, there were 350 men playing professional basketball in the NBA. So, there was a SIX TIMES better chance of getting hit by lightning than playing basketball.

Expansion has improved the numbers a bit: there are 30 NBA teams today, and using the average as 15 players per team, that means that 450 men are playing professionally today. This of course, does not include injured players getting paid, or the WNBA, which didn’t exist in 1989. There are 1,760 men on the rosters of NFL teams during the regular season, again not counting injured players getting paid and those on reserve squads.

Looking at the NCAA’s own website, the numbers are staggering. For men’s basketball,
• less than one in 35, or approximately 3.0 percent, of high school senior boys playing interscholastic basketball will go on to play men’s basketball at a NCAA member institution.
• Less than one in 75, or approximately 1.2 percent, of NCAA male senior basketball players will get drafted by a National Basketball Association (NBA) team.
• Approximately three in 10,000, or approximately 0.03 percent of high school senior boys playing interscholastic basketball will eventually be drafted by an NBA team.
For football, the numbers aren’t much better:
• About 5.7 percent, or approximately one in 17, of all high school senior boys playing interscholastic football will go on to play football at a NCAA member institution.
• About 1.8 percent, or approximately one in 50, of NCAA senior football players will get drafted by a National Football League (NFL) team.
• Approximately eight in 10,000, or approximately 0.08 percent of high school senior boys playing interscholastic football will eventually be drafted by an NFL team.

We have less than three weeks before this year’s NFL Draft and there are some 30 young men who know they will have a job come summer and another 194 men who will be drafted and hope to get a chance to make an NFL squad. That leaves 279,816 players without an NFL spot.

Of curse, I wish the best for this young man, and all of the young men who make it, don’t make it, or have their dreams prematurely ended by injury. This is why I always asked to speak to the athletes when I returned to my high school for Career Day. I never wanted to stomp on anyone’s dreams, especially a kid’s dreams. I always said, “Go for it. If you have the talent and the drive, you should shoot for the sky. But, remember that the odds are against you and a freak injury could happen at any time; so, go to class; listen to what the teachers are telling you. Have a Plan B, just in case Plan A doesn’t work out.” I don’t know whether my friend’s grandson has a Plan B, and it’s not my place to say anything anyway. I just hope he spent some time exercising his mind, not just his body.

I am no longer a Cub fan, but I didn’t add them to the “hate” bunch at the top of this site because I wouldn’t truly mind if the Cubs won something after 100 years. There are probably few people outside of baseball who are happier to see the beginning of baseball than myself (not to mention the hopefully coming warmer weather after this abysmal winter). But, as I was listening to Lin Brehmer’s pre-game festivities from a bar near Wrigley Field yesterday (yes, on WXRT – we don’t have an iPod connector in the car, so I have to listen to something), he brought up one thing about the season and about Wrigley Field that I truly do not miss and wish he wouldn’t have reminded me of: Ronnie “Woo Woo” Wickers.

Now I can almost see your faces: why are you going to pick on a man who obviously has some mental problems, has had a hard time in life, and is generally harmless? The same thing can be said about a lot of homeless and mentally challenged people, but I don’t see a you inviting them to your houses for dinner. But my dislike goes back a long way…

I worked at Wrigley Field from 1977 through 1985 as an Andy Frain usher. Wickers was always around: before, during, and after games, and I could hear his incessant “(Fill in Player’s name here), WOO!” In the early 1980s, it was invariably “Sandberg, WOO! Sandberg WOO!” over and over again. Or “Sutcliff WOO! Sutcliff WOO!” Now, I must admit that, as a much younger man at the time, I was doing a lot more drinking, and perhaps some of my antipathy was due to loud noises close to my ears as I tried to recover from a long night before. However, I’ve seen Wickers a few times over the years since I stopped working (and drinking as much, alas); and his shtick hasn’t changed: he still yells at the top of his, now well-developed lungs and my feelings haven’t changed even those I have far fewer hangovers.

Wickers must have some type of mental defect, which is not his fault. He is like a 12-year-old boy in many ways, and in an article I read about him several years ago, he apparently has led a tough life. He makes his money washing windows and doing other odd jobs in the Wrigleyville area. But he found his “niche” in life when he started hanging around Wrigley Field, bumming tickets, food and beers off of the Wrigley drunks and fans who would feel sorry for him. When I was working at Wrigley, he knew I didn’t like him. He generally stayed out of arms reach from me. So, he would show that he had a ticket, which meant that I was supposed to be nice to him, or at least not treat him with contempt. And then the shouting would start. For the average Cub fan who attends a few games a year, the never-ending “WOO!” is cute, or at least an occasional nuisance. But for someone who worked 160 baseball games in the summer of 1985 (81 White Sox, 78 Cubs, and the 1 Sox-Cubs exhibition game), and worked about that many games in 1992-84, a summer filled with that constant “WOO!” was too much.

Now, in light of the Obama speech, I have to admit that if Ronnie “Woo Woo,” was white, I probably wouldn’t have such strong feelings. But to see African-American Ronnie hanging out with fans, mostly white men, like a pet, an amusement, in a “Steppin’ Fetchit” style just burns me. It is very nice for people with money to do a nice thing for someone with little or nothing, like a few years ago when some fans collected money and a dentist worked to get Wickers new front teeth (his teeth had been lost in an accident or accidents). And some of the fans stepped up when he was hit by a car a few years ago as well, and generosity is a good thing. But Wickers is a 60-year-old man, who did (I can’t say has) have a family and kids, and instead of doing what he can in a “regular” job and supporting some of those people; he is out at Wrigley Field getting beers and food and annoying people. All he needs is a leash to make the picture complete. As a black man, it is embarrassing.

We all know that the louder one shouts, especially on television, radio or the Internet, the more attention one gets. The bigger the headline; the more you can scoop out on Britney Spears, the more people will pay attention and buy your newspaper, or watch your news show.

The political version is similar, the more a candidate can scare the hell out of people, the better he (most of the time it is a “he”) is liable to do at the polls. Fear sells. Medical studies show that people pay less attention when they feel fear. The logical centers of the brain are bypassed for sheer emotional instinct when a person gets scared. (And of course, the Republican Party has been using the “fear card” for decades to win elections, and now the Clinton Presidential campaign is using fear, closely tied to the “race card” in a no-holds-barred attempt to wrestle the Democratic nomination away from Barack Obama. But this is not a political post.)

For a very long time, a friend of mine who owns a retail store would complain that weathercasters in the Chicago area deliberately exaggerate their forecasts, which has a negative effect on businesses throughout the area. For example, if the weathermen predict 3 to 6 inches of snow, my friend loses money because he gets no walkup business and regulars stay home. There is no downside because if they’re wrong, they just say that the city “dodged a bullet,” and if the storm is actually worse than the National Weather Service expects, it actually makes their forecasts “correct.” I got tired of it myself, but when a normal consumer like me tried to get accuracy numbers on weathermen and television and radio stations, the services that track such things require paid subscriptions and I was asked which station I work for. I tried to get raw data, and it was too expensive; however, an online site called WeatheRate does “certify TV stations” based on their accuracy, and who is currently “certified?” WBBM, the CBS affiliate had the most accurate forecasts.

One station that didn’t show up was WGN. Why am I so interested in WGN? Because My friend and I believe that the worst offender is WGN and Chicago Tribune Meteorologist Tom Skilling. In our less than scientific analysis, Skilling is always 5 degrees hotter or colder than the National Weather Service, and forecasts more snow, rain and bad weather than anyone else. Worse than that, it is almost like he is bored by nice weather; he is always proclaiming the next bout of bad weather, almost “getting off” on it.

Ordinarily, at this time of year, I would have put this rant away for another year; winter is over after all; but Skilling is at it again. Yesterday, as the National Weather Service called for 1 inch or less of snow, Skilling’s Tribune online forecast leaped out with a call for 2 to 4 inches. What did we get? Officially, Chicago received 0.45 inches of precipitation. Yes, you read right, we got just under ½ inch of snow; Skilling forecast 4 to 8 times more snow than we actually received. Why? WGN, the Tribune, and Skilling are scaring the hell out of people all the while proclaiming that Skilling is “Chicago’s Most Trusted Meteorologist.” But no one was calling him out for his inaccuracy.

Until now. A few months ago, before I started this site, I put the question to Skilling himself in a series of e-mails. It began at 2:52 PM on December 4th, 2007:

Evil T – Mr. Skilling, I have a question. Why do you forecast 5-10 degrees higher or lower than everyone else, and when forecasting snow, you are always higher than everyone else? Today’s snow is supposed to be 3-5″, but you are forecasting 4-6.” I have to admit that I don’t watch you for this very reason. I realize that shock headlines bring viewers, but you are doing the city a disservice by scaring the hell out of people. And all of the weather people look foolish when the storm doesn’t deliver. I have a number of friends with small businesses that get no business when you proclaim gloom and doom. This is very harmful to their businesses and livelihoods. But you are considered the “most trusted weatherman in Chicago .” Why is this?

By 3:50PM the same day, I got an answer:

Skilling – Oh my, Tony! Scaring the hell out of people with a 3-6” forecast versus 3-5”. You’ve got to be kidding.

Not to be daunted (or leave the last word to this little man), your advocate responded at 4:15:

Evil T – Sorry Tom, maybe 1″ inch here or there isn’t such a big deal, but it is when people are planning on going out. Let’s say 2-4″ inches is predicted. Since I think most TV meteorologists exaggerate, 2″ is not enough to stop me from going out. 4-6″ would make me think twice. And it does scare the hell out of many people.
The bigger question is: Are your forecasts inflated to make better copy and larger audiences? That’s the question, not some little Alberta Clipper cutting across Chicago. And I stand by my comments from my business owner friends. When weather people bang the big gong, they make no money, even if the system does not generate any snow. That’s misrepresentation and the weather version of tabloid “journalism.”

Skilling sent this final response at 4:45:

Skilling – Sorry—we’ll agree to disagree.

I’ll let you decide on where you stand on the issue, but I think that truth should be the standard of all journalism, whether it is the news, the sports, or the weather. But with profits more important than truth (see Fox News, CNN, The New York Times, and so many of our media outlets) why are people surprised that people don’t know who or what to believe?

There has been much written publicly and commented on in the media that Congress has much more important business than investigating sports leagues for performance enhancing drugs; and they’re right. But, there are two situations in which the sports owners and unions should find other, more useful ways of spending their time.

First, there is a report today that in next week’s owners’ meetings, the NFL, also known as the “No Fun League” will vote on a proposed rule that would prohibit players from having long hair. The proposed rule which passed through the competition committee, but is being pushed by the Kansas City Chiefs and targeted at Steelers’ safety Troy Palomalu among others, would prohibit players from having hair sticking out of their helmets longer than the names on their jerseys. Who cares? So it doesn’t look “clean” and “neat” on television? The players have numbers on their backs that allow people to differentiate what’s happening out there, and besides, long hair distinguishes some players from one another. The chief drawback to long hair from my perspective is that any hair coming out of the helmet is considered part of a player’s uniform, and I would think that it would be awfully painful to be tackled by the hair.

Proving that they are even further away from reality, earlier this week the Major League Baseball Players’ Union announced that they would be conducting an investigation as to why no team seems to want Barry Bonds. The union is investigating to determine whether there is collusion between the owners to conspire to kick Bonds out of baseball. Now, I’m as big a conspiracy believer as the next person (just short of Oliver Stone and Fox Mulder), but I think the union people have been taking drugs of a different kind if they can’t come up with reasons why no one wants to employ the Home Run King. Let’s list a few reasons, just off the top of my head:

1. He’s 43 years-old.
2. He is going to want a top dollar contract.
3. Bonds has had injury problems over the past few years.
4. For an NL team, he can’t play the outfield anymore, and there’s no DH rule.
5. He is a selfish arrogant ass who would be a cancer in the clubhouse.
6. He is the ultimate self-centered athlete who could detract from a team trying to win.

That’s not enough for you? How about some more troubling reasons:

7. Bonds is under indictment for having lied under oath about taking performance enhancing drugs.
8. It appears that he did take performance enhancing drugs.
9. Without the drugs, could he perform at a major league level, much less a top level?
10. Who needs the public relations nightmare of having an indicted, possible cheater on your team?
11. Bonds would be a distraction on and off the field, both at home and on the road.

Baseball owners are, generally, good business people, but often, aren’t that smart when it comes to baseball and public relations. You only need to look at the sports section or read books like “Lords of the Realm” to see the truly boneheaded moves that baseball owners have perpetrated over the years. And, they have participated in collusion before, in an attempt to keep salaries down. That only cost them a multimillion dollar settlement to the union. But the only team that was interested was the Tampa Bay Rays, who could use a big name to put some fans in the seats, but even they decided that they didn’t want fans at home coming to boo their top slugger (not to mention the cost). It doesn’t take a genius to see that Bonds is like plutonium; he may have some value, but he is dangerous to be close to. But Don Fehr and his minions would rather spend time trying to defend a cheater rather than find a way to stop players from cheating (and improving their health).

Baseball season begins in just a few days, but just as it has hung over the sport for the past several years, the 600-pound gorilla known as the steroid controversy won’t let opening day pass quietly. First, a group of U.S. House of Representative Republicans released a 109-page report basically stating that Roger Clemens did not commit perjury in his testimony last month. The report, obtained by the Associated Press, reportedly contains details that Rep. Tom Davis believes could undermine the credibility of Brian McNamee, the personal trainer who testified under oath he injected Clemens with steroids and human growth hormone. I have had a question since the Commission’s hearings occurred (aside from why are we spending taxpayers’ money on an investigation into a pastime)? Why do the republicans have such a “hard on” for Roger Clemens? Most people that I know that watched any of the hearings came away with the impression that while McNamee is no saint, he has no reason to lie under oath about Clemens, especially if Clemens’ friend Andy Pettitte essentially confirmed what McNamee said (“misremembered” was Clemens’ new word for Pettitte).

Why is McNamee “public enemy number 1” while Clemens is clean as the driven snow? Yes, McNamee is testifying to save his skin; that’s as American as apple pie. But at the same time, McNamee gets serious jail time if he lies. Which should apply to Clemens, but he is above the law as the big sports hero. Why do the Republicans like Clemens so? Maybe it’s because Clemens, like the Republicans, is smug, arrogant, and believes that they are above the laws that govern “normal people?” Maybe McNamee’s attorney was right when he speculated that President Bush (“The First Idiot”) will pardon Clemens as one Texan to another? (“Clemency for Clemens” could be a great badge.)

More troubling to baseball, at least from a public relations standpoint could have been the not very coincidental March 31 release of Jose Canseco’s second steroid tome “Vindicated: Big Names, Big Liars, and The Battle to Save Baseball.” Newsday reportedly has gotten a hold of a copy of the book and the early revelations are rather tedious. Canseco reportedly says that he introduced Alex Rodriguez to a known supplier of steroids. OK, he was introduced; what does this mean? I know a few people who sold drugs in my old neighborhood; does that make me an addict? The book’s other “big” A-Rod revelation was that Rodriguez hit on Canseco’s wife. Well, Stop The Presses. A-Rod tried to get next to Canseco’s wife. At the time, Rodriguez was single; Canseco’s wives have all been attractive; and Jose himself has a long rap sheet of “’roid rage” and spousal abuse (which may have been why the object of A-Rod’s attention is now Canceso’s ex-wife).

Most troubling for myself and fans of the White Sox is Canseco’s claim that he injected outfielder Magglio Ordonez with steroids while both were playing for the Pale Hose in 2001. Were White Sox ownership and management as compliant as the rest of the sport in looking the other way when it came to performance enhancing drugs? Bad, but not surprising; lots of people, especially Baseball Commissioner Bug Selig and Players’ Union head Don “Have No” Fehr were guilty of looking the other way when it came to performance enhancing drugs. Overall, however, this story has a funny smell about it: The New York Times reported in January that Canseco offered to keep Ordonez out of the book if the now Detroit outfielder invested in a movie project promoted by Canseco. Moreover, this story is just BORING. We’ve already heard a similar story about from Canseco about Mark McGwire in the first book. Magglio Ordonez is a fine player, but he is not a “big name star” like McGwire. Ho Hum!

Curiously, Canseco reportedly writes that Roger Clemens did not attend the now infamous June 1998 party at his house. McNamee testified that Clemens spoke with Canseco at the barbecue and soon after approached the trainer about using performance-enhancing drugs. If he was truly out to clear the air, why not air out Clemens; there are pictures of Clemens at the party, why lie in print? Personally, I would be more frightened of McGwire delivering a physical beating than Clemens, who might not want to hurt his precious pitching hands on my face.

Jose Canseco failed to get any of my money for his first book, and I won’t be opening up the wallet to fork over any money for this latest, undoubtedly self-servicing book. Why give more money to a man who made millions of dollars playing baseball. If he spent all of the money, that’s his problem.

I should say, first and foremost, that I wasn’t a Barack Obama fan originally. I was a John Edwards supporter because he was the only presidential candidate who was willing to even discuss poverty and the yawning chasm between not just rich and poor, but rich and super rich. After Edwards dropped out (rendering my early Illinois primary vote moot), I was not affiliated with any candidate. I was uncertain on Obama, but Hillary was, and remains, too mainstream, too tied to the way things have always worked, and, we as a country need a break from the past. Furthermore, I think Hillary is unelectable: too many people hate her from the 1990s, and, while her husband – the consummate politician can change his mind and opinion and still not appear phony; Hillary doesn’t have that ability. She appears blatantly opportunistic; transparently so.

So, I was hesitantly for Obama. Until this week; his speech on race was one of the best speeches I have ever heard: candid (or as candid as a presidential candidate can be), challenging, intelligent. Jon Stewart said that he spoke to the country “like adults.” And that may be the problem. Maybe I’m naïve, but I thought that there could be no intelligent person who could find anything to dislike about the speech. Obama said that black people’s anger is justified, and so is white people’s. One of the things I liked most in the speech was that people had to stop look at happiness as a “zero-sum” game – “that your dreams do not have to come at the expense of my dreams.” Let’s forge past the divisive notions of the past; past the conservative loud mouths and members of the mainstream media who want to preserve the status quo while the robber barons at the top of the food chain continue to divide and conquer.

But some of the people on Huffington Post were scandalous. “He’s toast,” one said. “His candidacy’s over” said another. Even Obama himself said that his speech may cost him the election. The pollsters say that he is behind Clinton nationwide even though he leads in delegates and appears to have the future numbers to be the Democratic nominee. (However, it should be noted that the pollsters have been almost universally wrong since this campaign began.) One of the reasons for this view is that he did not “distance himself far enough away from Reverend Jeremiah Wright, the head of Chicago’s Trinity United Church of Christ. Obama said that he could do that as easily as distancing himself from the black community. Rev. Wright’s “God Damn America” is on YouTube and has been shown probably in a loop on Fox News’ website. But, at times, that is how many African-Americans feel.

If you haven’t guessed yet, I am African-American and I have often told people that I am torn in my feelings on America. On the one hand, it is the greatest nation on Earth; a place where I have been able to go to school, become educated, have secured a good job, a nice house, and a future for my family. However, when I have trouble getting served at restaurants; or cannot hail a cab; I am reminded of no matter what I have achieved, it is still not enough. When I see young black men hoarded into prisons on drug offenses because that is the only way they have to earn money, I am saddened. When I go back to Englewood, the neighborhood where I grew up, I am saddened by the decay, the crime, the hopelessness. So, Rev. Wright and his congregation are sometimes, even often angry. They have every right to be. But there is more to Rev. Wright; to anyone, than that.

I don’t know the Reverend personally, but I do know of the numerous programs for the poor, for the uneducated, for the sick, that the church is instrumental in running and supporting. A question: have you ever heard someone you know say something that you disagree with? And I don’t mean something about you personally; I mean state an opinion with which you disagreed? Did you never speak to them again? I would be more concerned Obama he had kicked Wright to the curb just to be president.

The worst comment that I have seen bounced around is that Obama threw his white grandmother “under the bus.” Even Jack Higgins, editorial cartoonist for the Chicago Sun-Times, who I have read since he was at the Daily Northwestern and often agreed with, went over the line when he drew a caricature of Obama pushing his grandmother out in front of a speeding bus. Obama said that his white grandmother was “a woman who once confessed her fear of black men who passed by her on the street, and who on more than one occasion has uttered racial or ethnic stereotypes that made me cringe.” Who hasn’t had that happen? Be honest! I often fear a group of black men that I pass on the street. Chris Rock said in one of his monologues that there were black people and “niggas” and when he went out, he wasn’t scared of black people or the media; he was scared of being robbed by “niggas.”

My mother, when she got paid used to say that when she was going to pay her bills, she was “paying her Jews.” Insensitive? At the very least. Did her comment continue the notion that “Jews run the world;” they are the richest people” and we’re all just paying them? Yes. But my grandmother worked for a Jewish family that owned grocery stores in the inner city of Chicago. She loved Jewish food; and until the end of her life, she and her daughter, my mother, stayed in contact with that family, long after the stores had been sold and both of my family members had been retired. So, should I disown my mother, even though she’s dead? Should I spit on her grave?

And what about me? Did I carry this view forward? Well, I live in Skokie, which for many years had the highest per capita population of Jewish people in the country. We have any number of Jewish neighbors, and we get along well. I have worked for, and with Jewish people, and let me tell you, they are some of the nicest people and best teammates I have had the chance to be around. My prejudices are aimed at the unrepentantly stupid, the arrogant, the racist, the liars, and the thieves – whatever their race, creed, color, or religious background happens to be.

Obama’s speech was uplifting. It challenged us to be better than we are. It challenged us to deal with our issues openly, honestly, but still be respectful to others, their views and fears. The speech harangued the mainstream media who put forth flash over substance, divisiveness over real substance. As he said, we as a nation have more important things to do: like build a better health care system; get out of Iraq; improve the status of all Americans, not just the wealthy and corporations. If Obama’s candidacy is doomed; if the vision that he dares show is vanquished, not because of policy, but for this BS, then not only is this country up the creek without a paddle, but deserves its demise as a superpower, and as the great democratic experiment.

This was another case of what you said is alright, but the time and place could have been a bit better. Last month, Dana Jacobson, a co-host of “First Take” on ESPN2, served a one-week suspension as a result of her behavior at a Jan. 11 roast for ESPN Radio personalities Mike Greenberg and Mike Golic at Atlantic City, N.J. At the roast, Jacobson reportedly made a rambling speech that included vulgar references about Notre Dame. Jacobson is a Michigan graduate, and she and Golic, a former Irish defensive lineman, often have exchanged barbs about the rivalry between the schools. One eyewitness labeled it an “embarrassing display,” and one newspaper account said the crowd booed Jacobson.

But, let’s face it, we’ve all said “F@#k Notre Dame” at some point, unless of course, you happen to be an Irish fan. Yes, Jacobson is a Michigan alum, and we all know that Michigan fans are only slightly less obnoxious than Domers, but she let out some of the pomposity of Notre Dame’s administration, alumni, students, fans and boosters. Let’s count all of the reasons to hate the teams representing “the Golden Dome.”

First of course are the alumni. Pompous does not accurately reflect the attitude of most of the “Domers” that I have encountered. This is the school, I was told once, that “doesn’t have fraternities and sororities, being at Notre Dame is being in a fraternity or sorority.” What b@llS#%t. They think that because their school was dominant in sports 50-60 years before they were born, that they should be a constant in any NCAA championship. Well, the other schools have caught up with ND on the recruiting front, and, to their credit, the high academic standards can make it difficult for the school to recruit top flight athletes. By, instead of facing reality and owning up to the fact that they are now just another of the 166 schools in Division I college football, they demand to always be considered a power by the fans, media, and NCAA. Those days are over boys and girls. Get a grip.

The whole “Touchdown Jesus” nonsense. So, they have a mural of Jesus on a building overlooking the stadium; this does not mean that you have God on your side or that you are a top flight football program by divine right. In fact, it is a bit insulting to those of us whose religious beliefs are less stringent or nonexistent. If God were Catholic, would HE (She) allow her school to take such a beating every year?

The “Notre Dame Broadcasting Network.” NBC is losing much money on an exclusive contract with Notre Dame that allows the school to remain independent even though most of the other schools in Division I football are attached to a conference in some way. ND joined the Big East Conference rather than the natural partner, the Big Ten, since the Big East would allow them to have a conference in basketball, but not in football, and therefore, ND wouldn’t have to share it’s NBC money (which the other Big Ten schools would have wanted their cut of). It would make a lot of sense for the Irish to join the Big Ten since they already have annual games with Michigan, Ohio State, Michigan State, and Purdue. But it is great to see NBC paying all that money for games that have no audience other than ND diehards and those of us who enjoy watching ND take a beating.

The other fans. If there is one group of people who are worse that the people who actually attended Notre Dame, it’s the rabid fans who can’t spell Notre Dame correctly, much less have the SAT scores to be admitted. Being from Chicago, there are a whole lot of people: some of Irish ancestry, many not; who live and breathe ND football. Many of these people have IQ scores under 100, but still go on proclaiming their loyalty for a school that they couldn’t attend. And since the days of ND having a large number of Irish players is over, having a bunch of Irish people rooting for predominantly African-American players is pretty weird. Add to that the fact that many of the Irish boosters would just as soon cross the street than face a real black person up close on the street, is preposterous. When I was growing up, I developed a hatred for Notre Dame because they seemed like all white America’s college football team. Little did I know that the school’s true colors would not show themselves for a couple of decades?
Race relations. I cannot understand any black player wanting to attend Notre Dame in light of the Ty Willingham era. Brought in after the Irishman the school had hired was discovered to have lied on his resume, Willingham, a classy, quiet African-American, was given the job, and in the first year, had success including a bowl appearance. But he found that, like coaches before him, many factors, not the least of which are numerous schools that have the academic credentials to rival ND and successful football programs, led to difficulty in recruiting. Yielding under the unrealistic expectations of the fans, alumni and even the school itself, Willingham was fired; the first coach in the school’s long history to be fired before completing his first contract with the school. Black students were unhappy; some faculty members openly protested the way Willingham was treated.
And who did the school hire, Charlie Weis, the Great White Hope, former offensive assistant with the then-Super Bowl Champion New England Patriots, and ND alumnus. Like Willingham, Weis’ first team had success including a bowl appearance. Fearful of Weis being lured back into the NFL, the school did something else it had never done, renegotiated and extended the contract of its first year head coach for over $11 million. But it has been tough going for the Irish ever since, perhaps hitting the program’s low last season which started with typically high expectations and a top 25 preseason ranking and ending with a school record worst 3-8 record. Best of all, Weis seemed out of his element; outcoached, out recruited, and handling a starting quarterback controversy with one player transferring just before the first game, pushing a once-promising freshman into the starting role, and eventually brining in a more experienced QB. It remains to be seen if Weis’ heavy handed handling of the situation has ruined the sophomore’s confidence.

Jacobson, for her part, apologized all over the place: “I am sorry. My remarks about Notre Dame were foolish and insensitive. I respect all religions and did not mean anything derogatory by my poorly chosen words. … My actions at the roast were inappropriate and in no way represent who I am. I won’t make excuses for my behavior, but I do hope I can be forgiven for such a poor lack of judgment.” Dana, the only thing you have to apologize for is the choice of the location and audience for your comments.

So, here’s a toast (no pun intended) to Dana Jacobson, a woman who had the guts to get drunk and tell people how many of us feel about Notre Dame.