The NFL combine gets underway in Indianapolis this week, where Cam Newton will headline the attractions for NFL scouts and fans alike. The combine's collection of 40 times, weigh-ins, and intelligence tests is one of the more bizarre spectacles in sports--or at least the closest thing sports has to a livestock auction.
All of which brings us to Cam Newton, who offers us a little respite from the creepiness of it all by being interesting. For instance, when someone asks him the most obvious question possible ("Where would you prefer to be drafted?") he gives maybe my favorite draft answer ever.
"The ideal situation is drafting Cam Newton as quickly and fast as possible. Do I care where I go? No."
Of course, he also told the media at his workout, "I see myself as an entertainer-slash-icon," and generally talked like a guy who's been turned into a God by college football fans for the past nine months. That's to be expected, I think. "I don’t want to sound arrogant," he continued "but I did something in one year people couldn’t do in their whole collegiate careers."
Okay, so he sounds kind of arrogant. But on the flipside, he's also one of the only top quarterback prospects in the past decade that'll actually workout at the combine, and even if his latest comments confirm your suspicion that he's kind of a douche, at least he's an entertaining one. I'm just hoping that karma doesn't wreak havoc here, sending him to Buffalo, and ending all the fun before it ever gets started. Because God knows he'll be terrible if the Bills draft him.
Now, more links!
-- Yahoo! Sports' Adrian Wojnarowski has been absolutely murdering Isiah Thomas over the past few weeks, and his latest effort is probably the most venomous effort yet. A sample:
From immortal player to NBA president, GM and coach, Thomas has completed his transformation into a two-bit AAU middleman peddling contrived influence to a sad, lonely delusional Dolan.
My favorite part about all the Isiah attacks the past few days has been the way they portray James Dolan, the owner of the Knicks, and by all accounts, a world renowned failure of a human being. On this subject, David Roth offered probably the best commentary of all:
That would be James Dolan, goateed dry-drunk heir to an unloved New York cable empire, vanity bluesman par excellence, and toxic exemplar of sports plutocracy's manifold objectionabilities. ... An entitled, born-on-third-base type every bit as selfish and grudge-driven as the Koch Brothers—but with half the vision and none of the focus—Dolan may not quite be the worst owner in sports. Daniel Snyder, the owner of the Washington Redskins, is a prickly boy king with a mile-wide evil streak; Hank Steinbrenner is louder, more political and perhaps even more entitled; Donald T. Sterling, Dolan's L.A. analogue (which means that he is orange and buttons his shirts only to the uppermost swell of his belly), may actually be a worse person. But no other owner, with the possible exception of the noxious Snyder, so brazenly advances the paradoxes of cheering-for-laundry fandom as Dolan.
GO KNICKS, AMIRITE?!
-- Dr. Dre's mid-90s letter to his then-girlfriend-now-wife is so great for so many reasons. First, it's pretty great hearing him talk about shooting that insane, post-apocalyptic video for California Love. Second, because of the Sedale Threatt mention. Third, because of the way he signs off ("I wish I was up in that ass"), and finally, because there's no better way to see Burning Man than through the eyes of a multi-platinum hip-hop producer:
"We met a bunch of crazy naked motherfuckers in the desert today, they were putting up some type of giant wood man. I guess they have a big party out here for a bunch of days. I asked them how much they pay, they said "nothing", I was like "No money?" Someone should get behind this shit and make some loot off these fools..."
AND THEY TOTALLY SHOULD.
-- If Wisconsin's government is so convinced everyone needs to make sacrifices to help the budget, then they should put their money where their mouth is, ya know? Sell the Packers to Los Angeles.
-- This interview with the late Dave Duerson was enlightening, but terribly depressing.
-- As an antidote, here's an exhaustive breakdown of Sandlot.
-- You're telling me he STOPPED smoking pot?
-- Video of a groupie fight at All-Star Weekend. Why can't this be on VH1?
-- I have no idea who Jonny Gomes is (or Adam Wainwright, really), but this was a pretty fun way to celebrate a season-ending injury:
Jonny Gomes walked into the Cincinnati Reds spring training clubhouse early Wednesday morning singing at the top of his warbly voice.
The melody was not recognizable, but the words were plaintive: "Wainwright’s gone, Wainwright’s gone, Wainwright’s gone," he sang joyously.
-- I mentioned Blue Chips in a post this morning, and somehow, that led me to Bill Simmons' old review of it, which was pretty great. I can only assume that to complete the day, I'll end up watching Blue Chips later tonight. Some things are just meant to be.
-- Finally, speaking of Simmons, when he was at the All-Star Game he tweeted that, "The MVP of that game was Ciara. She caused more rubbernecking than a 15-car pileup." I thought this was a classic case of a white guy getting Rihanna and Ciara confused, but he later reiterated that he meant Ciara. This is notable for two reasons:
- Who knew Ciara was still around?
- Isn't she the one that everybody said was a transvestite?
And... Well, apparently she's back! Even John Wall is impressed:
But if Ciara's the new "it" girl in the NBA, it needs to be said: No Twitter flirting or public adulation will ever compare to the sheer creepiness Lil Wayne's "Promise," a remix of Ciara's single by the same name, and probably one of the most ridiculous, random things Lil Wayne's ever done. And for Lil Wayne, that's saying something. Anyway, enjoy?