Asshole Of The Week: Joe Mauer

Welcome to Asshole Of The Week, where every Friday your trusty Foul Balls editor picks out the one person from the previous seven days who makes him think, "Man, what an asshole." It could be anybody from an athlete, an owner, someone in the media, or just anybody who happens to catch my ire.

This week's winner of the Asshole Of The Week wasn't as easy for me to figure out as it has been in the first three week's of its conception. There wasn't that one person who really stood out to me this week.

For a while I thought about giving it to PETA for their reactions to Eight Belles dying at last week's Kentucky Derby. The only problem with that was then I'd have to pretend I really cared about horse racing, and I don't.

I also thought about giving it to Carol Slezak, but really, Panger is far more qualified to handle that situation than I am.

There was even some thought as to giving it to both Jay Mariotti and Rick Telander for their columns about Cedric Benson, and how the team should just cut him now immediately, even though the entire story hadn't surfaced yet. Just because he's not that good at football doesn't mean we should deny him a chance to prove his innocence first.

I decided against it though because I've given the Sun-Times enough grief this week, and really, giving Jay Mariotti an AOTW would be redundant. He's already the Asshole Of Every Day.

So, after much deliberating, in the end I had to go ahead and give it to Twins catcher Joe Mauer. After all, it was Mauer who broke up Gavin Floyd's second no-hit bid of the season with a one-out double in the 9th inning. Of course, there's a problem with giving Mauer the AOTW as well.

By all accounts, Joe Mauer is a nice guy and I've never read or heard a story saying otherwise. Plus, you can't really blame him for hitting that double. It is his job after all, and I don't think there are many players in baseball who want to be on a team that gets no-hit.

Still, it ruined my night. And I deserved that night too.

I've spent the last few years being tortured by sports teams in Chicago. As has been chronicled here at Foul Balls during the time, ever since the Bears lost Super Bowl XLI things have gone to shit around here. The Bears suck, the Bulls suck, the Sox sucked last season, and even though the Blackhawks improved, they still didn't make the playoffs. The only team that's had any success is the Cubs, and for obvious reasons, that doesn't exactly thrill me. Though even if it did, they still got swept right out of the playoffs.

When it hasn't been the teams themselves sucking, it's been off the field crap. Tank Johnson, Lance Briggs' car ride and contract situation, Brian Urlacher's family life and now his contract situation.

Ben Wallace's bad attitude, and Chris Duhon's partying.

Ozzie's mouth (actually, that's entertaining, but hearing the moaning about it gets annoying).

Sam Zell.

Even Benny the Bull is getting in on the act, if not spearheading it, with his reign of terror upon Chicagoland.

Everything in this city has just had a negative undertone when it comes to sports. So when I have an opportunity to take joy in something like a no-hitter, I don't take it for granted. It's the type of moment that helps a fan get through trying times like these, much like Mark Buehrle's no-hitter last season, or a Devin Hester touchdown return.

You took that moment away from me on Tuesday night, Mauer, and I don't appreciate it. And what did you accomplish by doing so? You still lost the game, but I lost happiness. You were going to lose anyway, why did you feel the need to rob that from me and other White Sox fans?

You're a sick and evil man, Joe Mauer, and you should be ashamed of yourself, but you aren't. No, when I look into your eyes, I don't see remorse. I see nothing. A cold, dark heart that has no feelings for anything but singles the other way and neatly trimmed sideburns.

Look into the eyes of a soulless man

And that, Joe Mauer, is why you're the Asshole Of The Week.

The Vagina Dialogues: Sox Blow-Up Doll Debate, Part Deux

By now you've probably heard plenty about the White Sox blow-up doll controversy, a stunt by the players which Sun-Times reporter Carol Slezak labeled as sexist, lewd and offensive.

As many some my dad and Fornelli know, this female sports fan took serious exception to Slezak's column in a post here at FB.

To my surprise, Slezak sent me an email responding to my post and has graciously agreed to let me share it with you:

[Panger], as I wrote, it isn't about me (or my tolerance level). It's about all of us. I don't care what they do with their dolls in their spare time. But they don't belong in the workplace -- and that's what a locker room is when the doors open to the media. The Sox know this, Major League Baseball knows this. And as you can see from Kenny Williams' and Paul Konkero's comments yesterday, they know the display had no business being there.

Would you have found it funny if the Sox players had erected a racist shrine? I hope not. Why, then, do you think it's appropriate for them -- or anyone -- to demean women, intentionally or not? When women start being paid equally and promoted equally in the workplace, then we can all say it's no big deal. But until that day, I think it's important that we recognize the connection between such behavior [ie, the shrine] and the fact that women are still treated as second-class citizens in many important aspects of life. Unfortunately, by looking the other way, or trying to impress the guys that we're cool, and can hang with that, we're only perpetuating the problem. It wasn't that long ago that we weren't even allowed to vote.

Kudos and thanks to you, Carol, for taking the time to elaborate on your position. I am deeply appreciative.

That said, I couldn't disagree with you more.

I don't care what they do with their dolls in their spare time...

You think it's okay if men are disrespectful and sexist behind closed doors? Which is it? Either it's wrong or it's not. (And we wonder why guys are so damned confused.)

...But they don't belong in the workplace -- and that's what a locker room is when the doors open to the media.

It's a workplace before the doors are open to the media... just not yours. Yes, reporters are doing a job but they are invited guests and can have their invitations revoked at any time. (See: Hiroki Homma.)

What other place of business in America grants reporters unfettered access to its employees, much less the right to watch as its workers drop trou and shower? Hell, I'd love to take notes while playing "pass the TP" in the stall next to Mariotti but can't get past the security at the Sun-Times front door.

You're concerned that female reporters might be made uncomfortable by the display of a blow-up doll. What about a player's discomfort at having strangers with notepads staring at his junk while asking about that botched double play in the third inning?


Lest you claim women reporters stick to business, let me direct you to the very first paragraph of sportswriter Jane Leavey's autobiographical novel, Squeeze Play:

"You see a lot of penises in my line of work: short ones, stubby ones, hard ones, soft ones. Circumsized and uncircumsized; laid back and athletic. Professionally speaking, they have a lot in common, which is to say they are all attached to guys, most of whom are naked while I am not, thus forming the odd dynamic of our relationship."

An odd dynamic, indeed. Can you imagine a male reporter getting away with that? "You see a lot of vaginas in my line of work. Waxed, shaved, bushy, Brazilian, French bikini.... "

But that will never happen because the WTA, WNBA, LPGA don't allow male reporters inside their clubhouses except under tightly controlled conditions.

Talk about a double standard.

Nevertheless, I think they've got it right. I've never understood why anyone is allowed in the clubhouse after a game, male or female. It makes no sense to me. Athletes should have a right to some privacy. They should have a right to blow off steam, relax, enjoy a good laugh and have some harmless fun, which is precisely what I believe the blow-up doll "shrine" was. (Oh yeah, and you might want to call it something other than a "shrine" which, by definition, is an object of worship and veneration.)

As a woman, I have the right to decide for myself if something or someone is sexist. To me, these locker room antics were juvenile and incredibly lame. They were also trivial, instantly forgettable (were it not for your column), and lacking any ill intent. Most important, I experienced not one whit of suffering or uneasiness as a result of exposure to them.

There may be a reason why I feel this way and you don't, and it's not a desire to impress the guys or be cool. As you wrote,

When women start being paid equally and promoted equally in the workplace, then we can all say it's no big deal. But until that day, I think it's important that we recognize the connection between such behavior [ie, the shrine] and the fact that women are still treated as second-class citizens in many important aspects of life...It wasn't that long ago that we weren't even allowed to vote.

And it wasn't that long ago men were hanged for rustling cattle. Welcome to the 21st century.

In urban areas, women are now earning more than men. As of this year, nearly 60% of all college students are women. Half of all law school and med school students are women, though many law schools are seeing a drop in female applicants because there are so many opportunities available for women now in other fields. Less than one hundred years after getting the vote, there's a woman who has fallen just 200 delegates shy of the being the Democratic nominee for president.

American women are like the second place car in a NASCAR race driving with a full tank of gas and just three laps to go against a leader who's running on fumes.

As long as we stay on the track, we've got this won.

Look at the facts. We live in a world where men still genitally mutilate millions of women, murder them in "honor killings," force them into arranged marriages or prostitution, take them onto soccer fields and shoot them for adultery, set them on fire for not having a large enough dowry...

Yet here, in just the last fifty years, American men have done something no other group in modern history can claim: they have bloodlessly (albeit reluctantly and hamhandedly) ceded large chunks of their power over to women.

Their reward? We get our La Perlas in a twist because some ball players pull a schoolyard prank in the locker room.

Is this really a matter worthy of column inches? Or is this just the gender version of the flag pin controversy?

I'm not a fool: there's still rampant sexism and injustice out there that we must actively resist. Evolution is a messy business. But we risk making further progress when we women fail to distinguish between the trivial and the significant. How can we enlist both genders to rectify true injustices when we're too busy rapping men's knuckles with rulers over a harmless joke?

American men are getting way more right than wrong. Columnist Cynthia Hemel summed it up well over twenty years ago:

During the feminist revolution, the battle lines were again simple. It was easy to tell the enemy, he was the one with the penis. This is no longer strictly true. Some men are okay now. We're allowed to like them again. We still have to keep them in line, of course, but we no longer have to shoot them on sight.

So what do ya say, Carol, let's dispense with the absolutism, cut the boys some slack, and have a laugh. We have the power now, we can afford to.

How wisely will we use that power? Well, that's another matter entirely.




Like I said, evolution is a messy business.

Sox Shrine: Blown Way Out of Proportion

Dear Ms. Slezak,

I read your column yesterday, the one where you excoriated the White Sox organization for the players' blow-up doll "shrine" erected (no pun intended) in their Toronto locker room earlier this week.

You called it sexist and had some pretty harsh words for the players and their bosses:

I'm sure the players' moms, wives, sisters and daughters are really proud of them. Way to go, guys. And just so we're clear, the tired ''boys will be boys'' excuse no longer works.

But it starts at the top. I'm pretty sure Guillen was born without a sensitivity chip, but what about general manager Ken Williams and chairman Jerry Reinsdorf? What about commissioner Bud Selig, who ordered Guillen's 2006 sensitivity training? Verbal or not, intended or not, the blow-up doll shrine said a mouthful about how the Sox organization views women. And I don't like what I heard.

As a card-carrying member of the Estrogen Patrol, I just have to say (with thanks to John Riggins): Lighten up, Carol, baby.

It was a joke. I'm sure you've heard of them. You might have even laughed at a few now and then (though given your joyless sermonizing, I have my doubts).

Carol, you're a sports writer, not a gardening columnist. If you haven't witnessed anything like this before, you probably haven't been doing your job very well.

These guys are doing what they can to turn things around and try to win baseball games. Emphasis on guys. You know, the ones with penises. They think shit like this is funny.

Hell, guess I'm gonna have to apologize to the Blah Blah Sisterhood cuz I thought it was funny too. A touch dumb ass but entertaining, nonetheless. It didn't even occur to me to be offended.

You write:

Can you imagine the Yankees... building a similar shrine in their locker room, in full view of clubhouse visitors?

Good point, Carol. I'm sure the esteemed Yankees organization told Roger Clemens to take down that Miley Cyrus poster he had taped to his locker.

No matter what draconian gender laws are passed, however many sensitivity training sessions are held - however vigorously you try to shame the hormones out of 'em - there is a simple fact you cannot dismiss with a wave of your hand: Boys will be boys.

Why can't women just laugh at it? Why do we have to take everything so damned personally, turn every light-hearted moment into a Lifetime movie?

To me, the bottom line is simple. How do the players and owners treat real women?

Have you, Carol, ever received poor treatment from a member of the White Sox organization? (And by poor, I mean worse than they treat Mariotti?) Have you ever been denied a story or a quote or access to a player or executive? Have you ever seen a player or executive show disrespect to a female employee or fan?

If yes, then you have a bully pulpit, let's hear about it.

If you haven't, then get over it.

Better still, perhaps you might turn your critical eye onto your own profession. Do you have an equally dim opinion about the sports media that appear intent on placing living, breathing female blow up dolls on the sidelines of every game? Is that worthy of a column from you?

Carol, if you were offended by the shrine, so be it. You have every right to cluck disapprovingly about what these guys did.

But please don't claim to speak for me or other female Sox fans, much less player's mothers, sisters, wives and daughters.

You see, some of us have vaginas and a sense of humor.

On Ozzie Guillen and Blow-Up Dolls

While watching the White Sox play baseball the last few weeks has done a lot to help push me to the brink of climbing a clock tower with a sniper rifle, at least they're providing me with plenty of fodder for the blog here. Whether it's just how much they suck, Ozzie playing mad-libs, or now with they way they view women.

Apparently Ozzie and the Sox thought the best way to break out of their hitting slump was to turn to blow-up dolls.

Designed to help the team break out of its slump, the shrine featured two female blow-up dolls surrounded by ''strategically placed'' baseball bats and was accompanied by a sign that read, ''You've Got To Push,'' Canada's National Post reported.

See, now that right there is hilarious. Unfortunately, as she's prone to do, the Sun-Times Carol Slezak blows this whole thing out of proportion.

But this isn't about reporters' feelings. Reporters are conduits to the fans. What a team does behind closed doors is its own business. But once the locker room opens, the franchise is on public display. So, how do you like your team now, Sox fans? Do you think the players respect women? I'm not so sure about that.

Do I think that the players respect women? Yes. Do I think they respect blow-up dolls? No. You see, Carol, there's a difference between actual women and blow-up dolls. Though a man's goal with both are the same, living, breathing women are actual human beings with feelings, and thoughts. Blow-up dolls are synthetic, manufactured dolls that look like women, but were made with the sole purpose of having men stick things in them. Sometimes it's a penis, other times it's a baseball bat.

I hope that clears that up for you. Also, if you're trying to find a moral beacon for society, I'd suggest you try looking for it somewhere other than a clubhouse or locker room. That's kind of like getting your world news from the National Enquirer.

Commit To The Controversy

So the Blackhawks are starting to work their way back into the public consciousness of Chicago sports fans. That's great. Really, I mean it. As I've often said here in the past, I have nothing against hockey and I used to enjoy it a bit. It was just that Bill Wirtz caused me to abandon the Blackhawks, and the strike caused me to abandon the sport all together.

Apparently I wasn't the only one who left for these reasons because now that Dollar Bill is dead, people are showing up to the United Center again, and people are actually talking about the team again. Seriously, you hear about the Blackhawks on sports radio in this city again. For the last five years or so, the only time you heard about the Blackhawks was if somebody was making fun of them.

Still, being back in the public consciousness also leads to problems. When nobody pays any attention to you, you can do whatever the hell you want and not worry about the consequences. When they are paying attention to you, you can get yourself in trouble from time to time.

Which is what seems to be happening at the moment. Remember last week when coach Denis Savard ripped into his team after a 1-0 loss, and told them they had to "commit to the Indian?"

Well, as you'd expect in this politically correct world we now live in, the phrase has rubbed some people the wrong way. Take the Chicago Sun-Times' Carol Slezak for instance.

The phrase has struck a chord with Hawks fans, many of whom would like to adopt it as the team's slogan. President John McDonough has been inundated with e-mails suggesting ways the Hawks can market the phrase, and you already can buy ''Commit to the Indian'' T-shirts online. Clearly Hawks fans are rediscovering their passion for the team, and that's great. But not everyone is happy about the way they've latched onto Savard's poor choice of words.

Count Podlasek -- executive director of the American Indian Center at 1630 W. Wilson on the North Side -- among the unhappy.

''For a fan base to use that statement as its motto is terrible,'' he said. ''What are they teaching the kids? These old symbols perpetuate the belief that American Indians are a thing of the past and that natives don't exist.''

Hey, it's Chief Illiniwek all over again!

I'm not going to get into a big debate about whether or not teams should have an Indian as it's mascot, but I will say that it doesn't bother me in the slightest. What I don't get is how the Blackhawks using an indian head logo is going to "perpetuate the belief that American Indians are a thing of the past and that natives don't exist."

Really?

I'm willing to bet that if the Blackhawks weren't named the Blackhawks that the majority of children in this city would grow up never knowing what in the hell a Blackhawk was, let alone whether or not they ever existed.

Now some people might say that I don't know what it's like since I'm not a native American, and I can't possibly know what it feels like to see my heritage exploited. These same people ignore the fact that as an Italian, I've spent my entire life seeing Italians in movies portrayed as nothing but members of the mob.

When I meet somebody and they hear my last name, I'm inevitably going to get the "Are you in the mafia?"

Does this bother me? No. Just like it doesn't bother any of my Irish friends that Notre Dame calls it's sports team the Fighting Irish, perpetuating the stereotype that all Irish people do is drink and fight. (Actually, that's not a stereotype. That's 100% true except they also eat a lot of corned beef and hash in between the two.)

The truth is that sports teams are just entertainment sources for people, they're not the moral compass of our society. Anybody who thinks otherwise isn't somebody you should be listening to.

Foul Balls

Bustin' Caps At Kams - I wrote about this at FanHouse last night, but I'm going to write about it here as well because I can. Yesterday it was announced that the Illini had suspended freshman linebacker Erique Robertson indefinitely for violating team rules.

That's all we got at first, but then later in the day Robertson appeared in court, and we all found out exactly what he'd done.

University of Illinois football player Erique Robertson has pleaded not guilty to felony charges for allegedly firing a gun at a Champaign bar.

The 19-year-old freshman is charged with reckless discharge of a firearm and two counts of aggravated unlawful use of weapons. Both are felonies.

Champaign police spokeswoman Rene Dunn said Robertson was arrested about 1:45 a.m. Sunday in front of Ellusions, a local bar. No one was injured.

I have no idea why Robertson brought the gun to the bar, and no idea why he fired the thing. What I want to know is where the hell is Ellusions? It sure as hell wasn't there when I lived in Champaign, and I don't remember seeing it anytime I've visited since then. Is it a townie bar?

No, wait, it can't be a townie bar. They wouldn't let a 19-year old into a townie bar, and everybody has a gun.

Any U. of I. students want to fill me in in the comments?

Gilbert Gives Leitch Two Thumbs Up - I got my copy of Leitch's "God Save the Fan" last Thursday, and I was finished reading it by Saturday. I don't tell you this to impress you with my reading skills (admittedly it goes over great with the ladies) I only say it so when I tell you it's a good book, you know I've actually read the whole thing.

But hey, if you don't want to take my word for it, take Gilbert Arenas'. From Gil's blog,

Have you seen the new book that came out, God Save the Fan? Will Leitch came out with the book. Thank you Will Leitch! Got to give a shout out to Will Leitch and Deadspin for coming out with the book God Save the Fan. I’m just going to tell you guys to go get the book, because I’m in Chapter 2. I mean, the title might be a little hard for some of you to read, especially since me and LeBron James are best friends. It’s about me and LeBron and it’s somewhere along the lines of “Why Gilbert is Better for the Game than LeBron” … it’s somewhere along those lines. I don’t want Cleveland fans to get mad at me, I didn’t write the book, I just read it. It’s kind of funny because me and him have been best friends over the five years since he’s been in this league. I was just grateful being mentioned with him. When I’m done playing and after all is said and done and he’s compared in Jordan likeness, I’m going to show my kids the book and be like, “Look at this here. Y’all see this, kids? Told you I was somebody. Y’all thought I was playing.” LeBron and I are really friends though, the whole free throw thing in the playoffs was just trash talking.

I know what you're thinking, and I'm shocked as well. I had no idea athletes could read either. Kinda makes me want to watch what I say around here.

Michael Wilbon Had A Heart Attack - When I sat down to watch Pardon The Interruption yesterday, like I do every day, I was pissed when I saw that Michael Wilbon wasn't on the show. Instead he was replaced by J.A. Adande, and I told myself "At least it's not Dan Le Batard."

Tony Kornheiser explained Wilbon's absence saying he was under the weather and had some minor chest pains. Turns out, Willy Buns had a heart attack.

Michael Wilbon acclaimed longtime columnist at the Washington Post and Pardon the Interruption (PTI) co-host suffered a minor heart attack this morning. It was reported that at 3 a.m. he complained of chest pains to his wife who took him to the hospital. Doctors found minor blockage in his heart and performed an angioplasty, which successfully removed the blockage.

Though he is weary he is expected to be back at his home in Scottsdale, Arizona tomorrow.

Get better, Wilbon. And lay off those sticky buns.

Chicago Columnists Are Annoying

I tend not to read Mariotti anymore because he generally does nothing but make me angry, but once in a while I'll see a headline of his and I have to read it. Yesterday was one of those days.

Mariotti wrote an entire column on the rap song that Bears first-round pick Greg Olson recorded as an 18-year old freshman at the University of Miami.

We all did stupid things in college. You did, I did, Jerry Angelo did. But most of us never were stupid enough to record a gangsta-rap ode to dormitory sex that was so relentlessly raunchy, repulsive and denigrating to women -- ''hos'' are mentioned 15 times, ''bitches'' 18 times, the F-word 29 times -- that Snoop Dogg might even blush. Simply consider the chorus from a little ditty titled, ''7th Floor Crew,'' from a group by the same name.

And let's face it, there is no greater authority on all things Snoop Dogg than Jay Mariotti. Jay then blathers on about how this is the next step in the downfall that is the Chicago Bears. I'm pretty sure he also works in how it's all Rex Grossman's fault at somepoint.

Jay is right about one thing though. We all do stupid things at 18. Where he's wrong is in stating that what Olson did was such a horrible offense. No Jay, it's just as stupid and harmless as anything you did when you were 18, it's just you're an out of touch moron so you just don't see the difference.

I hate to break it to you, but this is nothing more than a kid being a kid and I really wonder about the motive here. If Greg Olson was a black 18-year old college freshman recording the same song, would anyone give a shit?

No. This is nothing more than middle-aged white America having trouble dealing with the fact that white people can be influenced by hip-hop culture. The horror. Oh the horror.

The thing is, the stupidity didn't stop with Mariotti's column. In an online column, Carol Slezak expressed the same kind of shock that Mariotti did and even titled it "Olsen's Rap Makes Imus Look Like Feminist."

After listening to all 8 minutes and 56 seconds of this unbelievably disgusting rap, I was shaking in anger and shock. How is it possible for these young men to have such little respect -- or is it hatred? -- for women? If Don Imus got fired for the comments he made about the Rutgers women's basketball team, these guys deserve jail time by comparison.

Jesus Christ. Did she really just say that Greg Olsen should go to prison for this?

How in the hell is what Olsen did anything like Don Imus?! Imus is a grown ass man on a nationally syndicated radio show making blatantly racist comments. Olsen was an 18-year old kid singing along to a song that you can hear just about any god damned time you turn on your radio.

This shouldn't even be a story, let alone an issue. Just another reason why the common sports fan is turning more and more to the internet for their sports news.