An Immense Darkness
by Brian Arsenault
If the media meant it. If they really did believe Michael Sam should be treated like any other player taken in the NFL draft, they would stop. They would stop showing him kissing his partner over and over again until it becomes nearly salacious. They would stop lying about never guessing some people would be offended or annoyed by their endless showing of “the kiss.”
They would stop having anguished panels shake their heads over how his “situation” will be handled by the media (badly, we all know), by the other players, by America by God. We’ve even jumped ahead to pose the damning question: What if he’s cut?
If they really meant he should be treated like any other player taken in the NFL draft, the media would congratulate him on his selection and move on, hardly mentioning him until he becomes a camp casualty or makes the team. They would cover his performance, not breathlessly wonder if someone somewhere won’t like him being in the NFL. (Surprise, some people won’t.)
But some people don’t like that fact that there are so many black players and some people don’t like games on Thursday nights. Some people don’t like Jerry Jones. I like him by the way and think the no fun league would be duller without him. Liked Al Davis too. A little color (no racial connotation meant) with my football please. It’s a game, remember?
Not enough people don’t like the fact that a windbag commissioner makes $40 million a year to pontificate about issues he ignored for years. Just like a politician, eh? Oh wait, he is.
Love that the tough New York crowd boos him every time he comes to the podium in the first round of the draft. That’s the real reason he wants to move the draft out of New York, by the way. OK then, boo him wherever he takes his moveable feast of human flesh.
Especially, though, not enough people have let the media know that its disingenuous posturing is offensive and annoying. Their pretense at being oh so refined while trying to shock and gawk is enough to induce vomit. They may as well point their cameras at the victims of train wrecks and tornadoes and pretend they are heart broken while they leer right along with their viewers. Oh wait, they do that.
The 24-hour news cycle was supposed to make us better informed. Instead it has given us the National Enquirer and its ilk on TV and on demand and we’re not even sure when it happened.
What Mr. Sam and his partner may yet not know is that the media which seems just so understanding and sympathetic today may stomp their life into a greasy little puddle tomorrow and then say oh how did that happen. I hope not but don’t count on it.
Shut them off Mr. Sam. Do it for your career. Do it for your partner. Do it for your life. They have no soul.
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