And The Eager Beaver Award Goes To...

I've watched a lot of golf, and from what I've seen, professional golfers project some of the most uniformly stoic personalities in sports.  Their blandness seems rivaled only by CPAs for the least interesting people to talk to at a party.  Rarely do you see personalities like John Daly experience much success in such a profession.  He's the only player sponsored by Hooter's for crying out loud.  In terms of personal life scandals, I never thought Daly's would be surpassed.  Certainly not by the biggest name in the sport, a name I will not be using in my post in order to avoid the Google's furtive peeping.  Hereafter I will refer to him by codename:  Lord Bangkok.

I have experienced a range of reactions with the still-unfolding story of Lord Bangkok's exploits, starting with denial.  When I first heard of the Thanksgiving accident, I didn't want to believe that he had been carrying on an affair.  Did I ever think he was infallible or "above that"?  Not really.  It just didn't seem to fit with my perception of him.  I watched him play at The Congressional tournament this summer, stood within five feet of him as he teed off at 14, watched his laser-like focus.  He had a smokin' hot wife with two little kids.  He seemed so grounded in that relationship, it never occurred to me that he would cheat.  For full disclosure, I'll  add that if I had a wife like that, I'd be eating out of her hand for as long as she'd let me.  Could be the celibacy talking, though.  I digress.

It was disappointing to say the least.  But my mind quickly found a box of cynicism to pack away the old image and roll out the coping arguments.  "He's on the road nearly every week of the year working.  He's a rich, young, attractive professional athlete.  Women probably swarm him everywhere he goes.  He's only human."  But day after day, new women kept coming forward.  I moved on to a whole different kind of disbelief, more of the shaking-my-head-while-muttering-"unbelievable" variety.  From the photos of the women, they all looked like they came off an assembly line, The Hasbro All-Stars.  And while I've never found that sort of plasticity attractive, Lord Bangkok certainly seemed to be as consistent with his women as he is with his 7-iron.  Or so I thought.

Then came some pictures of women that were total outliers.  At this point, I couldn't find anything within myself but amusement.  This story had just gone gonzo and I mentally couldn't get my arms around it anymore.  I could only laugh when I saw this long cool woman in a red dress:

My first reaction was, "When did Lord Bangkok start picking up women at the Waffle House?"  Followed by a chuckle.  Followed by the bristling of the alpha-hairs on the back of my neck when I realized he was poaching on my turf.  I felt defensive suddenly, and thought, "So the Hasbro All-Stars were too boring?  Sinking your putts at the exclusive Augusta National course isn't enough for you, now you gotta come down to my muni course to show off??"  Turns out, I wasn't too far off with the Waffle House thought.  It was Perkin's.  A Perkin's waitress bringing Lord Bangkok a little extra gravy with his grits.

Then there were the porn star(s).  One fit the Hasbro mold.  The other...not so much.  This wicked little trollop had a tramp stamp of a lion above her cellar door and a tattoo of a baby in diapers right next to it.  Classy.  I'm betting from looks alone that she has about a half-dozen piercings not in her ears, and made Lord Bangkok feel like a very, very naughty boy.  Not to mention she was 40.  There are plenty of foxy 40-year olds out there; that is not the point. The point is, she's a porn star; more directly, she's a 40-year old still doing porn!!  That's gotta be like taking your car to Jiffy Lube for an oil change on your truck:  quick and professional, but no matter how proud you are of your rig, staring at those 20-foot bay doors is just a reminder that they service much bigger rigs than yours all day long.

All in all, the fallout from this situation really saddens me.  He'll lose his family.  I don't see his wife recovering from the humiliation he's put her through.  He's already losing a significant amount of current income, and will probably suffer some loss of long-term earning potential.  His charities and causes will undoubtedly suffer as well.  And he has nobody to blame but himself.  I don't defend his actions.  He betrayed his wife and children in grand fashion.  And for who?  A bunch of party girls and gold-diggers?  His actions are indefensible.  But the level of sanctimony and holier-than-thou-ness coming from many in the press makes me want to puke.  Many of these fat, ugly sports writers have, shockingly enough, had affairs of their own.  The only thing that's kept them from stepping out on the scale that Lord Bangkok did is their lack of money, talent, charm, and looks.  Spare me the "but Lord Bangkok is on a pedestal.  He was supposed to be better, and he owes his wife, his kids, the PGA, and America an apology" bit, you hacks.  Your tartuffery is shameful.

So here I am.  I've finally completed my journey, and have overcome my disillusionment.  Lord Bangkok is more human now, not such a cyborg.  I believe he's still a solid guy who has made a long list of bad decisions.  I hope he can get his priorities in life re-booted and concentrate on being a good dad.  I hope he can get his spirit recentered in something solid that works for him and that gives him strength.  I hope he eventually returns to golf, and when he does, I hope he proceeds to thrash the record books.  He's got at least one fan still pulling for him to come through as a person and as a golfer.  Godspeed, Lord Bangkok, til I see you again at Torrey Pines.

I Can't Believe I'm Writing a Post About Survivor

My roommate and I had a little scrap this morning regarding the outcome of Survivor last night.  Russle, who in my view played one of the most strategically bold and aggressive games I've seen, lost the jury vote to Natalie by a vote of 5-4, taking home the $1 million prize.  My roommate was happy with the outcome, while I felt it was an absolute case of Survivor jury nullification. 

In the final tribal council when the jury members were given the opportunity to question the final three contestants, (a step in the process intended to help jury members make up their minds), none of them seemed interested in anything the contestants had to say.  Instead, they took the opportunity to whine about how they had been blindsided by their own ouster from the game, many of them by Russle's maneuvering.  And yet, I couldn't help thinking about how each of them had watched Russle dispatch other players with whom he'd made alliances and still made no counter-moves to get him out of the game.  Fool me once, shame on you.  But these folks, especially Jaison, sat around for weeks riding Russle's strategy and making no moves of their own (Jaison's gonna be a pretty aweful lawyer if he doesn't thicken up his skin and learn to strategize on his own).  Mick and Natalie argued that Russle couldn't have gotten to the end without their help.  I guess, but does sitting around like pawns while Russle pushes you around the board really deserve a million dollars? 

My roommate thinks so.  Five members of the jury were so aggrieved by their betrayal that they obviously thought so.   Back when I first got drawn into one of these strategy games, I would have agreed.  I wanted the person who played the most ethically sound, honest game to win.  And if a person who plays that way makes it to the end, sure I would like to see them win.  But having watched a few of these shows, I think these games are warfare, and I am more inclined to reward players that play, even if I was a victim of their tactics.  What happened last night is not even close to that.  It was the strategist and two of his pawns in the final, and the jury rewarded the pawn. 

It makes me think back to the Big Brother last season with Jeff and Jordan.  She was the cutesy little blond with the southern accent and nobody really gave her much credit.  Sound familiar?  She employed the "fly under the radar" strategy, which is a legitimate strategy.  And when Jeff fell for the dumbest ruse ever employed in television strategy games and got himself eliminated, I thought she'd be gone too.  But when called on to keep herself in the game, she came through and outperformed the other alliance that was still in the game.  Natalie didn't do that.  She was a complete non-entity the whole game. She got a good bit of camera time because she's kinda cute.  But neither she nor Mick made a single move besides aligning with Russle at the start.  She didn't win a single challenge, didn't contribute to the strategy.  When she defended herself to the jury by saying that her and Russle "bounced strategy ideas off each other," I almost laughed out loud.  From what I saw, she sat there while Russle told her how to vote, and she voted.  I guess that's what makes me so unsatisfied with last night's result.  She did nothing to win.  She won by not playing.  The jury rewarded her incompetence with $1 million.  I am with the minority vote here:  I believe that, love them or hate them, the person who plays the best game strategically should take home the prize.  Not that any of it matters.  I just wasn't happy with the outcome.

One thing my roommate and I do agree on, Shambo's brand of crazy was the gift of the season.     

Blog Rule #136: Know Your Audience

If you're going to offer a taste of what's in your jockstrap to the quarterback of your mother's alma mater, make sure your mother doesn't read your blog.