Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Pacman Fever

I gotta admit, I don’t spend much time or energy keeping up with our professional playas’ misconducts, high crimes, and misdemeanors. Even though I think they do shirk their responsibility in being the role models they truly are, the outrage and wrath they incur when these Bitchez Behave Badly far outweigh their importance in society. I mean, presidents lie about weapons of mass destruction, levies break, Halliburtons profiteer off of no-bid contracts, you won’t be able to retire until you’re 422, and people froth at the mouth because T.O. is an asshole? Not a drug dealer (like Jamal Lewis), not a murderer (yeah, I know Ray Lewis was acquitted—but come on), not a drug addict (like Ricky Williams), nor a drunk-driving murderer (like Leonard Little), nor a sex offender (like Ruben Patterson)—just an asshole. Don’t get me wrong: Terrell Owens is a Grade-A asshole. He’s poisoned more relationships Lucrezia Borgia, but come on, yall, Dick Cheney does exist. Learn to focus your rage on more productive targets.

Having said that, I gotta say, “Fuck Pac Man Jones!” I mean, what the hell, negro?

This brother’s been a menace since birth. In fact, I read somewhere that during the twenty-fifth hour of Mama Jones’s labor, Baby Pac Man snatched the scalpel away from the doctor, ripped himself outta his mama’s womb, and held up the hospital staff at gunpoint (apparently he was packin’ in utero). While at West Virginia University, he received a one-year prison sentence for a bar fight in Morgantown. A West Virginia thug? Damn, bruh, how pathetic is that? If you really wanna prove your manhood, why not tussle with the Hatfields and McCoys? Or were you afraid that those hillbillies would’ve had you squealing like a lipsticked pig while the banjos kept a-duelin’.

It only goes downhill from there? Apparently, dyslexic in his thuggery, Pac Man bites bouncers and punches out strippers. He has already been implicated in one Nashville drug ring—even had his car (with “Pac Man” stitched on the leather seats—smooth criminal) confiscated by the police. He was involved in a shooting outside of a gas station. God, I wish I were making this shit up!

And, of course, there was that Las Vegas strip club incident back in ’07, where Daddy Warbucks here decided to make it “rain money” in the club—apparently sprinkling around $81K on some fine ass. And when that fine ass started picking up the loot, you started to beat that ass. Even Billy Graham knows not to pick up the money! But you weren’t satisfied. Your ass gets kicked out, and the bullets start flying? Three people shot, one paralyzed, because you wanted ... what? to be HNIC?!

The list goes on and on. And because athletes have such an exalted position in our society, you’ve gotten away with it. Your West Virginia prison sentence turns into two years probation (and he doesn’t even report to his P.O.). The cops find you in a hotel room with tons of marijuana, and your boy takes the rap. After countless altercations and shootings, instead of wearing prison stripes you get to wear the Cowboys’ stars. All because you can run with speedy receivers and knock down footballs. Not throw a ball 90mph or make it curve at 72mph. Not even because you can hit that same ball. Not because you can hit a 30-ft. jumper. Not even chuck a football 60 yards. But you can knock it down! And for this God-given talent, you get paid millions of dollars. All you have to do is shut … the fuck … up! But you can’t even do that.

Yeah, I know the story. I know I’m supposed to feel sorry for you.

“He lost his father at 4,” the Titans’ media guide says, “and he was raised by his mother, Deborah, along with his grandmother, Christine Jones, for most of his life. He credits them with being the primary reason he was not overcome by his tragic and violent childhood surroundings.”

But bruh, billions of people around the globe grow up in the same or even worse circumstances than you and never get into half the shit you’ve gotten into. Hell, Barack Obama didn’t really know his father, and he’s running for President. And the ones who do, usually end up where you should be: jail. But no, because you can swat at footballs, you get to get rich and live the high life—if only you can shut … the fuck … up.

Instead, you have to get into it with your bodyguard and attack him. You’re such a head case, the Cowboys gave this grown man a babysitter. And it’s still not enough. Pacman can’t look at all the pain and misery he’s caused. He can’t look at how amazingly lucky he’s been and just … well, you know. No, he has to refuse to eat his vegetables and sling peas at his babysitter.

Now, he’s suspended for four games. Four games?! All the shit he’s pulled, and that’s all he gets?! What happened to “zero tolerance,” Godell? Oh right, Bill Belichek is still coaching, ain’t he?

Man, I pray to God, the Cowboys don’t take him back. I pray nobody takes him back. I mean, I realize a shutdown corner’s a hard thing to find, but damn, yall, how many passes can you give this man? This is more than T.O. demanding the ball all the time, though 33 percent of the offense goes through him. Pacman is truly a menace to society, he needs to be in jail. Without the protection of the NCAA and now the NFL, he’d be there right now. It’s time for him to be shunted off to a place where he can no longer do any harm, where this wannabe thug can play Kick, Punt, Pass the Punk all day long.