The Super Bowl was days ago. I’m still cranky. Depressed. I’m mad at football for ending. I’m mad I won’t be able to risk ⅘ths or more of my paycheck on a three-team teaser for another seven months. I’m mad that my least-favorite team in sports has been crowned champions. Most of all, I’m mad that my favorite team in sports — while not having played in the big game (not even close) — is directly responsible for this crappy end result.
There is a God-awful part of the already ridiculous film Jerry Maguire when Tom Cruise's character and Cuba Gooding Jr.'s character tearfully hug after Cuba's character gets hurt making a touchdown catch, comes to, and then dances in the end zone.
This part is particularly obnoxious for many reasons. Cuba's character is an egomaniac who is making millions, yet wants more. Following his end zone celebration, his character is offered a multi-million dollar contract. WHAT. THE. HELL? I'm going to refrain from going off on the rest of that lame-ass movie, but I have made my feelings clear. Acting like a jackass after successfully doing your job, then being rewarded for your stupidity is unreal. The worst part is, the players who seek attention from us always end up getting it. Dancing with cheerleaders, pulling cell phones out, signing the football ... the list goes on.
Many thanks to Friend of Grantland Dave, who e-mailed editor-in-chief Bill Simmons this week to express some NBA-related ideas and rage. Good news, Dave! We love both ideas and rage here. We're publishing his e-mail (with minimal edits) below to share the anger. Thanks again, to Dave, who is kicking off our "reader e-mail rant" occasional feature.
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