Impulsive Harbaugh goes all in unnecessarily

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Impulsive Harbaugh goes all in unnecessarily

Jim Trotter of Sports Illustrated tells us that Jim Harbaugh has demoted Alex Smith for Colin Kaepernick. He also tells us that Smith is trying to be the loyal soldier by backtracking on ESPNs Trent Dilfer.
RELATED: Report -- Smith informed Kaepernick will start
Well, all that means is that Smith doesnt feel comfortable fighting the power. It does mean, though, that Harbaugh has decided to roll the dice on Kaepernick, and if hes right, he has a Super Bowl trophy.And if hes not, he has created a mess out of which he cannot gobble his way to an escape.Harbaugh chose to tell Smith Wednesday that he was going with Kaepernick in New Orleans and beyond, concussion clearance or no concussion clearance. He decided that a so-so game against St. Louis and a big game against Chicago was evidence enough to put his championship plans in the hands of a neophyte.It is a gamblers move at a time when gambling isnt required. It is a move that declares the already shiny status quo to be null and void, and it is a move that tells every other player on the roster that yesterdays deeds do not equal todays hunch.And all Kaepernick has to do is win it all for Harbaugh to be beyond bulletproof. He will be Nick Saban, and Urban Meyer, and Chip Kelly, all rolled into one. Invulnerable, even in the face of any and all Yorks. And maybe thats how it should be in the NFL. In an amoral sport like football, in a soulless organization like the NFL, winning is the one reductive truth that trumps all other behaviors.But if hes wrong, if the 49ers arent a Super Bowl team after all, if Kaepernicks 1 games of work really are too small a sample size, he wont be able to gobble or jive his way out of this flightless bird. And we have no rooting interest either way. We dont care who wins the hand. We just know that he decided to go all-in trusting only his gut and the gods who handle the flop, turn and river.He has, in short, revealed his truest nature here. We make no value judgments, but we do know when a guy has decided to gamble on a longshot, and when he needs to do so. This was not that time, but Harbaugh couldnt wait. He didnt want people to talk about a quarterback controversy because he knows that it isnt who talks thats the problem, but who hears it.And Smith, based on sources, is not going to object to the change. Whether that makes him a good teammate or a natural-born follower is for others to deduce; psychology isnt what we do here.But Harbaughs gamble puts the entire team at risk, and it shows that while he is unafraid to make bold moves, it also shows that loyalty is a one-way street. Players suspect that of coaches and general managers all the time, but they file the information away from when the time comes to use it.And being 7-2-1, going into New Orleans, isnt that time.In short, Colin Kaepernick has been given the keys to the Lexus and told he can drive it like a Lamborghini Murcielago. If he wins the race, well, genius has been served. Winners by definition cannot lose.But if Kaepernick wraps it around a tree, or dunks into a lagoon, or gets hit the wrong way, the fault will not be his, but Harbaughs. The coach went all in when he didnt have to. He could have checked, even check-raised, but he pushed all his chips in because despite the fact that he didnt have to do it, he did it anyway. He surrendered to an impulse at a time when being impulsive wasnt really needed.And impulses sometimes cause scorch marks and scarring.

The real issue that lingers now that OJ Simpson is a free man

The real issue that lingers now that OJ Simpson is a free man

O.J. Simpson is free. The system as it is defined by those who run it in the case of the Nevada Parole Board, worked.

But the issue that lingers is whether we can free ourselves of him. That system is far more amorphous, arbitrarty and essentially unfair. And in its own revolting way, it works too.

The O.J. market has always been bullish. The old cliché that people can’t get enough no matter how much you shovel at them is more true for him than for any other sports figure of the last 50 years. More than Tiger Woods. More than LeBron James. More than Michael Jordan. More than all of them.

And now his parole hearing, televised and streamed by every outlet except Home & Garden Television, proved it again. He will never not be O.J.

But he is also 70. He is also planning to go to Florida and be with his family, based on what he told the parole board Thursday. He has assiduously avoided the media in his nine years in Lovelock, and if his family is providing the support it pledges, it will do its utmost to keep him from our prying eyes as he enters his dotage.

There is nothing we have that can do him any good. We have eaten all the forms of O.J. there are, culminating in the Emmy-award winning documentary on him, and finally, his release from prison. If he is wise as well as smart, here’s nothing left of his life but re-airs.

So the question becomes not so much whether he can leave fame alone, or whether fame can leave him alone. Our national appetite is poor on the topic of leaving people be, let alone deciding enough is enough. The fame we make for people gorges, purges and gorges again, in a hideous cycle that demeans all involved.

In sum, O.J. Simpson can, if he is paying attention to the value of normalcy, end his addiction to fame. I have far more serious doubts about fame and its addiction to him.

Quietest time in sports yields a pair of idiotic fascinations

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Quietest time in sports yields a pair of idiotic fascinations

Some time not that very long ago, someone in sports management who will almost certainly spend all of eternity bobbing for razor-studded apples in a pool of lava saw an opportunity in the phrase, “The quietest time in sports.” And decided to fill it with filth.
 
It is believed to begin right after the end of the NBA Finals, although that artificial start date has been extended through free agency now that the NBA’s principal entertainment vehicle is the burning of money. It used to be right after the Major League Baseball All-Star Game, though now it has been extended backward. And it ends roughly at the beginning of NFL and/or college training camps, depending on where you live and which of those two beasts you profess your God to be.
 
But let’s get back to the management succubus who has set us on the path that has led inexcusably to the current point. The idea that baseball no longer holds the interest or attention spans of the young, cool and inadequately trained in the value of money is now accepted as fact, and as any marketing nitwit will tell you, nature abhors a vacuum.
 
So here’s what we’ve got. Floyd Mayweather and Conor McGregor in what is very simply a lazy-stereotype-laden comedy tour that isn’t funny let alone even mildly convincing. They have both been on the stage too long, with a month still to go before the final shame-off August 26, where they simply enter the arena, stand with their backs to each other at the ring rope and spend 45 minutes trying to target-spit into the eyes of the high-rollers. Why the promoters didn’t just muzzle Mayweather and McGregor and use actual professionals like Key and Peele and Aisling Bea and Ed Byrne to work the crowds for a million per is simply a lack of imagination at work.
 
Here’s what else we have. Our idiotic fascination for Lonzo Ball’s two best Summer League games being achieved wearing shoes other than those promoted by his father/huckster as though his skills and intelligence are all in his feet.
 
What this actually is, of course, is people using Lonzo’s momentary and mostly microscopic achievement to call LaVar a tedious swine without ever using his name or his product catalog because he, like McGregor and Mayweather, beats down crowds and calls it entertainment, and people have signed on in a weird backdoor way – by finding reasons to like the son as a weapon against the father.
 
Thus, Lonzo Ball gets to learn how to be a professional athlete of note while carrying the load of his father’s impression upon the nation as well as the loads of those who believe that sins of the father must revert to the son. Popularity’s dominant property is its corrosion, and Ball will have to have very fast feet and well-constructed shoes indeed to dance away from the rising tide of a bored fan base with an ax to grind.
 
It isn’t as instantly gratifying a train wreck as Mayweather-McGregor, but it is a triumph of the new marketing strategy of wholesale idiocy that diminishes the watcher as well as the watched.
 
Neither of these events are in and of themselves interesting. Mayweather-McGregor is simply a kangaroo boxing a bear because circus entertainment no longer has circuses as venues, and Ball’s summer bears almost no relationship to the true test of his career – how to be the best player on a terrible team and then make the adjustment to being the third best player on a rebuilding team.
 
Ball has a longer shelf life because of that single useful component, but it is made less rather than more interesting by the presence of his father, who is now indelibly part of the tale at a time when most parents leave their children to find their fortunes by the virtues of their skills and wits.
 
McGregor-Mayweather has the sole benefit of being cringeworthy both before, during and after the event, a month-long smear of degradation that reduces all involved, including those who buy the fight, into penitents, into rolling apologies. It is an event in which nobody gets out with any shred of dignity, with the single revolting example of the grisly accountant-beasts who will take the Internal Revenue’s cut immediately after the fight.
 
And if that isn’t Satan winning, then you don’t know how to score a game in which Satan plays on all the teams at once and sees to it that the game is scheduled in the middle of July because some client of his told him it was the best time of year for personal and professional disgrace with a scoreboard on the end of it.