Stupid Black People Need to STFU!

Please take a minute and re-read that headline. I'm not a racist and I'm not proposing that all blacks are stupid. I'm saying that stupid people come in all colors, shapes, sizes and socio-economic backgrounds, and some of them happen to be black.

And some of these stupid black people, like Stephon Marbury, Jamie Foxx and the head of the Atlanta chapter of the NAACP, want you to believe that in spite of the egregious and stomach-turning allegations that Mike Vick has admitted to, he is really just another person of color who is being unduly chastised and prosecuted by a racist legal and judicial system.

Of course, there's just as many stupid white people that think that Mike Vick is guilty souly because he's black, which fuels this never-ending playing of the race card every time a prominent person of color runs afoul of the law.

The truth is, there's just as many famous white people who have achieved great levels of celebrity, only to do something incredibly stupid and watch all the money, fame and career opportunities dry up and blow away.

Don't believe me? Here's just a quick list compiled by the contributors over at SeahawkBlue:

SPORTS
Marv Albert
Tonya Harding
Pete Rose

ENTERTAINMENT
Pee Wee Herman
Martha Stewart
Hugh Grant

POLITICS & RELIGION
Richard Nixon
Spiro Agnew
The whole Watergate gang
Gary Hart
Bill Clinton
Jim Bakker
Most every pedophile priest

(I consciously eliminated stupid white people who got in trouble for making racist remarks, like Don Imus, Michael "Kramer" Richards and Jimmy The Greek Snyder, so as not to cloud the issue.)

The point is that when white people in positions of prominence embarrass themselves, they evoke the scorn of the general public for the duration of their episode of stupidity, become the butt of jokes by every late night comedian, and then have the courtesy to fade quickly into the background while we all enjoy issuing our verbal stonings and await the next stupid white person to step up to the plate.

The big difference?

There's no NAAWP standing buy to issue inflammatory statements of support for the stupid white person, and very few, if any, stupid white athletes, comedians and/or entertainers feel the need to use the situation to exhibit their own stupidity by voicing uninformed and ill-advised opinions on the topic.

But the biggest difference of all is that when a stupid white person steps on his own dick, the media doesn't stick a microphone in the face of every available member of the black community to get their reaction to the situation.

As a matter of fact, most gaffes by stupid white people go mostly unnoticed by the black community at large. Kind of like when one rapper guns down another rapper outside a Detroit record studio, hardly any white people take notice either.

No, the "racial" issue with the Vick situation is the same as the OJ issue, the Rodney King issue and every other situation when a stupid black person tries to play the race card to deflect attention from their obvious and unmitigated guilt.

Whenever a prominent black person steps on his own dick, undoubtedly the punishment is meted out by a white police officer, judge, commissioner or NFL team owner, and thus we have an assumed "race issue", and the overplaying of this race card dilutes the support and sympathy that should be given to anyone who is truly the victim of a racial bias or social injustice.

No, the smartest black person throughout this entire ordeal has to be NFL Players Association President Gene Upshaw, who has had the good sense to keep his mouth shut, and let his silence speak volumes about his true feelings.

Man how I wish Roger Goodell was a black man, so that human turds like Mike Vick and Pacman Jones would have no wiggle room at all.


(Funny but True: the image that accompanies this article was returned with the first page of results from a Google Search on stupid black people...really! I would have used this comic, which has an ironic tie in, but the pet owner was not black)

Who Loves The Seahawks More Than Captain Caveman?

The title probably should end with the word "Does", since I'm sure most visitors love the team more than they love Captain Caveman, but it was already too fucking long. However, in this piece he did for Deadspin, one time Streeter Matt Ufford professes his true feelings and devotion to our favorite NFL franchise.

(and I'm just mailing it in!)

Tim Donaghy: The Movie

No matter how things ultimately turn out in the NBA Ref Game Fixing saga, one thing on which you can bet the farm is that there's a gaggle of would-be screenwriters out there hacking out script ideas to pitch to Hollywood. At least I hope that the eventual movie is a major motion picture and not some lameass ESPN production. The last thing I want to see is John Turturro and his Mickey Mouse ears running up and down the hardcourt over the span of several weeks!


I know the facts of the case are yet to be revealed, and as yet nobody has even been officially charged of anything, but this has all the makings for a summer blockbuster. You've got racial tension of a white official fixing a predominantly black game. You've got the FBI squaring off against yet-to-be-named organized crime figures. And you have the Jewish conspiracy question of "what did David Stern know, and when did he know it?"

We'll worry about who will play what roles later, once more names and faces are added to the mix, but for now, as they say in Hollywood, let's cut to the chase.

In other words, how does this movie end, or more specifically, what will be the fate of Mr. Tim Donaghy?

As I see it, there are four possible outcomes:

A) a long term reservation at the greybar hotel
B) a guilt-ridden suicide
C) a Soprano's style gangland whacking
D) a Jimmy Hoffa-esque disappearance

Smart money is on option A) above, as the other three more dramatic endings usually only occur in the cinema, but those are the ones that the screenwriters are hoping for.

A guilt ridden suicide is the most lame, as it makes the ref into a sympathetic character and robs the bloodthirsty viewers of the ultimate rub out, especially those who may have lost money on actual games Donaghy had officiated.

The gangland hit has the most potential, from a classic movie ending standpoint, but it's pretty cliche' at this point, so much so the final episode of The Sorpanos decided that sucking was a better option.

Option D) provides a lot of intrigue (and possibly a sequel) as it leaves a ton of unanswered questions. Did the mob get to him? Did the FBI dump him in witness protection? Did he escape and is now living on the lamb? Or did David Stern exercise his ultimate authority as the most powerful commissioner of the four three major sports leagues, and call in the hit himself?

So while we all have to wait to see what ultimately happens to this weasley bastard who has now called into question every ump, ref, and officiating crew working the major leagues.

Readers are welcome to use the comment area and try your hand at writing the final scene of Tim Donaghy: The Movie yourself. For my money, I'd like to see him and Bill Leavy holding hands while driving off the edge of a cliff Thelma and Louise style!

(this item was written before reading the similarly themed Bill Simmons piece on ESPN.com)

A Post of Self Importance

Any long-time readers of 12 Seahawks Street should recognize the image to the left as the Magic Hat, and should infer that this means it's time for the Alba family to go on vacation, which it is.

I leave the blog in the sweaty but capable hands of Heir Bloof, and hope that no real good stories break while I'm away so he has to scramble to come up with content.

Knowing him, he'll just post a bunch of crap next to a picture of some scantily clad vixen, and none of our over-hormoned, under-sexed, NFL-starved readers will really give a shit. Just like you don't give a flying fuck in a rolling donut that I'll be at the beach for a week.

But, as a lovely parting gift, click the link or the Magic Hat above, and relive a truly unbelievable story from last year's trip to the beach, complete with a picture of an well endowed anonymous beach goer who appears to be constipated.

If I were Paul Tagliabue I'd Be Pissed!

Well into the tenure of newly appointed Football Czar, Roger Goodell, I'm starting to wonder what kind of relationship he had with his former boss.

Because if I were Paul Tagliabue, I'd be pissed.

First, Richie Cunningham with his new and tougher personal conduct policy, has shown a very bright light on the criminal and antisocial behavior that apparently was going unnoticed, or at least undeterred, under the Tagliabue administration.

Then, with his wing-tipped encased left foot, Goodell stamped out the World League of American Football NFL Europe That German League NFL Europa, the unsuccessful manifest-destiny brain-child of his bispeckled predecessor.

And for his grand finale, to add insult to injury, he pulls off a feat that neither Tagliabue nor the Son of God himself, Pete Rozelle could accomplish, which was to win a judgement against Al Davis and the The Evil Empire.

While every out-going leader says the right things publicly, I'll bet that deep down they secretly hope their successor struggles a little bit, or at least doesn't make them look like a total ass-hat in their first year in the corner office.

If I were Paul Tagliabue, I'd be pissed!

How to Make the 49er-Cards Matchup More Gay

As if the second-feature of the opening Monday Night Football matchup wasn't gay enough, pitting metrosexual Matt Lineart against gender-confused Alex Smith, ESPN has decided to gay-it-up a little more by choosing to put Mike Greenberg in the booth.

Although he'll be flanked by NFL icon Mike Ditka, doing his best John Madden impression, and NFL alumni Mike Golick, trying despirately not to speak with his mouth full, having "Greenie" in the booth calling this game is going to provide more bi-curious subtext than the volleyball scene in Top Gun.


Granted, having Greenberg discuss the differences between an ascot and a necktie, or extolling the benefits of the man-purse during lulls in the action may help the struggling ESPN telecast appeal to the female viewer, while at the same time avert the focus of the male audience from the pitiful brand of football being played on the field.

And with Tony Kornheiser calling the opener, and Bonnie Berstein on the sidelines, the casual view may get more information on the blintz than the blitz.

I just hope that six hours into the 2007 season I don't find myself missing the Joe Theisman era.

Wait a minute.

Theisman? That's not Jewish, is it?

EDIT: Need I say more?