Jon Gruden in an email to Bruce Allen, the President of the Washington NFl team, once known by the racist slur "The Redskins," referring to De Maurice Smith, the African American NFLPA director in 2011, said of him that he had "lips the size of Michellin tires." You don't get more racist than that. Gruden, now the coach of the Los Vegas Raiders claims that back then he referred to people who lie (meaning Mr. Smith) as having "rubber lips." Really, Jon? Got caught being a racist and pulling shit out of the air? I check out the Urban Dictionary to see what it says about rubber lips. Definition #1: Someone who mangles the pronunciation of a word through lingual clumsiness. Definition #2: The rubbery shape of a person's lips. Think Mick Jagger. Nowhere could I find having rubber lips meaning to lie. That pretty much hoists you, Jon, on your own petard, wouldn't you say?
Another thought to keep in mind for those still willing to give Gruden the benefit of the doubt. To whom was Jon Gruden emailing this slur? Answer: To the brother of George Allen, famous for his racist "Maccaca Moment" to describe a man of color who was tracking his political speeches. Aha! And lets make a further connection: Bruce Allen was hired by Washington team owner Daniel Snyder a staunch conservative Republican who was proud of his team's name "Redskins" considered racist my Native Americans. Voila! And lest we forget, Mr. Snyder donated $1 million dollars to racist ex-president Donald Trump. Checkmate, baby!
There is a whole lot of inductive reasoning going on, Jon, that leads to a reasonable conclusion about you that in 2011 you meant exactly what what spewed out of your mouth to be a racist slur. Nobody believes that rubber lip lie crap,
Would Jon Gruden of today use raciest slurs? Probably not, not that he might not want to, but because in today's media sensitive society, he'd be caught out pronto and would be out of a job just as fast. Jon Gruden is not a stupid man, but he might very well be a deeply ingrained racist. The evidence seems overwhelming.
On to another distasteful subject:
Can't believe that retired NBA players scammed our NBA health insurance. Shame and for shame on you guys. What's so nuts to me is why? WHY IN THE HELL DO IT? The money doesn't make sense. Let's just say that all these scammers when they played only received veteran's minimum. In the year 2000 the minimum for vets with 4 years experience was $510,000 dollars but probably higher in most cases. But lets just say it was the basic minimum and each of the scanners played eight year seasons. That comes to $4,080,000, not a bad for 8 years work. So, now these guys are scamming a health system for 10 or 20 lousy grand? What's up with that? The only thing I can think of is they're broke and desperate.
I'm thinking of teachers minimum starting salaries, Small business owners, social workers paychecks and I have no sympathy for these guys. Every single one of the scammers should pay back what they scammed, and they should serve jail time. And they should made to pay for their own health insurance.
On a happier note, a much happier note, my Golden State Warriors are going to be a vastly improved team this coming season. Kudos to Bob Myers and Joe Lacob for insisting a WIN NOW strategy does not preclude a WIN LATER draft strategy. The Dubs are now a far better shooting team that the last season with Jordan Poole coming into his own and with the addition of Howard Porter Jr and Nemanja Bjelica to space the floor. Let's hear it for drafting Moses Moody and Kuminga. And sticking with Wiseman and not panicking because he was so raw. Klay will be back by mid year. Go Warriors!
I'm also happy to report - in my humble opinion - that the Sacramento Kings, my fall back team due to the fact I live in Sacramento, with the addition of Devion Mitchell and other vets Like Tristan Thompson, will be a much better team this year. I'm betting they will make the playoffs. I'm not betting a whole lot, but I AM betting.
Here's a poem from my first collection of poetry Nothing You Lose Can Be Replaced.
Oscar by Tom Meschery
Oscar Robertson, The Big O, Hall of fame guard Cincinnati Royals & Milwaukee Bucks
when we thought the game was ours,
out came the cavalry bugler
blowing charge. It was Cincinnati
1963, but today it's pure Hollywood,
soldiers suddenly appearing on the horizon,
the terrified Apache, who always suffered
a losing season, high-tailing it across the border. . .
were only and an average team. Don't you remember
the Warriors won most of those games.
not anymore. Today, I can't use
wins and losses, but Oscar's jumpers,
rising over Embry's crushing picks,
the bugle's notes fading into applause -
I need those picture, like movies
I can watch over and over.
