- Not even Pedro Martinez’s famed blue glove is big enough to conceal this one. Martinez, the New York Mets ace and native of the Dominican Republic, was recently seen along with Hall of Famer Juan Marichal at a cockfight in a video posted this week on YouTube. The footage showed the two laughing before releasing the roosters. They took part as honorary "soltadores," the word used to describe the person who drops the razor-blade-strapped rooster into the little rooster octagon or ring to do battle. Now before you get irate over the fact that cockfighting is illegal in 49 of the 50 states here in the U.S., know that the fight took place in their home country, the Dominican Republic, where cockfighting is legal and popular. According to Pedro, the cockfight occurred at least two years ago. Of course, leading the charge of irate and incensed animal lovers is People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, which sent letters to both pitchers Thursday, calling on them to publicly apologize. You can always count on those freaks at PETA to act outraged at the slightest hint of impropriety toward animals. So while I enjoy a nice, juicy steak, wear my fur coat and sit down on my bear skin rug, I’ll allow Pedro to address PETA’s concerns. “I understand that people are upset, but this is part of our Dominican culture and is legal in the Dominican Republic,” Martinez said in a statement issued by the Mets. “I was invited by my idol, Juan Marichal, to attend the event as a spectator, not as a participant.” Let’s hope that this is Pedro’s last venture into cockfighting, because his bird didn’t do very well. In the video, which was posted Tuesday, the animal released by Martinez appears to be killed. You can’t actually see the video now because YouTube has yanked it down, citing the dreaded “due to terms of use violation.” Now I’m not a cockfighting fan, I’ve never been to a cockfight and the thought of two roosters pecking and slashing each other to death in a bloody spectacle doesn’t interest me…but I still think PETA is hilarious. No one cares what you wack-a-doos think about this, so no, they’re not going to heed your call for an apology. Like it or not, cockfighting is a recognized sport in the Dominican, so unless you think you’re going to convince a whole island of people that they need to change their way of life due to some loser animal right activists in another country, you need to let this one go. Now pass me the A-1 sauce for my Porterhouse steak, please…..
- So that race for the Republican presidential nomination….yeah, that’s over. The only candidate named after a piece of baseball equipment, Mitt Romney, has dropped out of the race and thus John McCain is the only one left standing for the Republicans. Romney bowed out yesterday, completing an unlikely run for McCain that saw him go from extreme long shot last summer to the choice to represent the Republicans this fall. As I’ve said before, right now I just don’t give a crap about the Republican side of things. The true terror of this election lies on the Democratic side with the possibility that Hank Clinton could be their candidate. So let the Republicans choose whichever rich, old white dude they think has the best chance of winning and I’ll get around to caring about them in a few months. Right now all our energy needs to be focused on doing anything and everything, legal or illegal, ethical or unethical, to prevent Hank’s nomination for the Dems. So congrats to John McCain, although he is imbecilely behind W.’s plans in Iraq, so there would be a major problem with him as president as well - just not as big a problem as all of us would have with Hank as our leader.
- I’m becoming more and more concerned about Amy Winehouse. And no, it has nothing to do with her continued drug and alcohol problems that currently have her in a British rehab center. No, I’m referring to the fact that every picture I see of her lately makes her look more and more like a transvestite drag queen who did her makeup in the back of a dark box truck driving down a bumpy country road. She may have looked that way all along as part of her image, but it’s getting worse lately - a lot worse. It’s one thing to cultivate a bizarre, oddball image to create a niche for yourself in the music world, but this is beyond that. Winehouse is so wretched to look at right now that even if she were the world’s greatest singer and guitar player all rolled into one, you couldn’t bear to watch her perform. Thus, I’d have to imagine that all of the arrogant, self-important, self-congratulating mainstream musicians set to attend and receive awards at their run-of-the-mill, don’t-dare-recognize-anyone-we-don’t-already-know ceremony are happy that Winehouse is not going to be in attendance at the Grammys. She’s being detained back in Britain, unable to get a visa to travel to the U.S. for the awards show. She may still appear via satellite, but at least that wouldn’t be quite as scary as seeing her in person. She was also scheduled to get up on stage and mumble indecipherably - what she calls performing - but that isn’t going to happen. Stay down, get sober and do us all a favor by ceasing your singing for a while, Amy…..
- College football recruiting is already way out of hand. Hours and hours of programming, crap loads of pages on websites and message boards are devoted to the physical, mental and performance attributes of guys who aren’t even old enough to vote and even when they arrive on a college campus will likely take 2-3 years to make a real impact. When you have that kind of unjustifiably frenzied culture, you end up with stories like that of Kevin Hart, a player from Fernley High School in Reno, Nev. who had claimed he'd been duped into believing he had been recruited to play at a Pac-10 school admitted Wednesday before admitting that he made up the whole story. Hart, a 6-foot-5-inch, 290-pound offensive lineman, offered an apology in a statement he issued through the Lyon County School District. He said he had wanted to play football at a Division I school “more than anything. When I realized that wasn't going to happen, I made up what I wanted to be reality. I am sorry for disappointing and embarrassing my family, coaches, Fernley High School, the involved universities and reporters covering the story,” Hart said. At first, Hart claimed that he had been duped by a man he had paid to help promote him in his bid to play college football. He spoke with deputies Saturday, a day after he had announced at a school assembly in front of a packed gym and also at news conference that he would sign with the University of California. At the announcement ceremony Friday, Hart, with Fernley coach Mark Hodges at his side, said he had talked with Cal coach Jeff Tedford many times and that "personal experience" led to his decision to choose the Golden Bears over Oregon. But the announcement was questioned almost immediately, and officials with California and Oregon said Monday that Hart had never been recruited by their programs. Lyon County sheriff's Lt. Rob Hall said Hart had claimed the alleged recruiter was named Kevin Riley and that he believed he was from Las Vegas. Hart, however, was "unable to provide any phone numbers, addresses," or other contact information for the purported recruiter, Hall said. Hart went so far as to sit hats from both schools on the table in front of him and make a fake dramatic announcement as to his choice by putting on the Cal baseball cap. Shortly thereafter, his story unraveled and he is left looking like a kid with highly questionable character. To be sure, the system is a crappy one and the pressure on these kids is immense to land a scholarship with the right school. Still, you can’t totally absolve Hart of blame because no one made him do what he did and clearly this was a reasoned, thought-out plan. He knew what he was doing and he knew it was wrong. This kid needs to get someone who can help him get a grip on reality and get some perspective on life, because clearly up to this point he hasn’t been getting good advice or support from those around him.
- Now this is really getting absurd. The whole battle of words between Roid-ger Clemens, one of baseball’s all-time greatest pitchers and one of its biggest asses at the same time, and his former trainer Brian McNamee was bad enough when these two were arguing and accusing like two third graders on the playground. They’re traipsing around Capitol Hill trying to curry favor with congressmen and committees and to make one another look bad as they proffer conflicting stories about whether or not Clemens really did use steroids. However, the absurdity has gone to a whole ‘nother level with the news that McNamee told congressional investigators he injected Roger Clemens' wife with human growth hormone as she prepared for a Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition photo session five years ago. The testimony came during McNamee’s Capitol Hill deposition on Thursday, wherein he injected Debbie Clemens at her husband's direction. Even if this is true, who gives a crap? Artificially enhanced women in Sports Illustrated wearing swimsuits? No way. Something tells me that more than a few of the bimbos who appear in the mag’s annual swimsuit issue have also been enhanced, albeit by surgical means and not by HGH. But even Debbie Clemens was HGH-ed up, who cares? As far as I know, there’s no law against women HGH-ing up to look better for a magazine photo shoot. Can we keep this to you two accusing one another of crap, little Roger and little Brian? You two immature, finger-pointing pieces of crap can embarrass yourselves quite nicely without dragging anyone else into this mess.
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