The Lingerie Football League (shockingly) is a little unprofessional

Well, since it’s Sunday, I wanted to bring you a heartwarming football story, about some opportunistic promoters and the women who have enabled them.

The Lingerie Football League started as an idea a few years ago as a diversion during the Super Bowl. Some marketing geniuses got it in their head that to give TV viewers some T&A during halftime, why not put half-naked women on TV playing football?

And who would’ve thunk it, the people lapped it up. (OK, maybe poor choice of words there.)

Anyway, the success of the Super Bowl “game” led to the creation this year of the Lingerie Football League, with 10 teams.

Well, things haven’t gone so well, and now the natives are revolting. According to this document obtained by The Smoking Gun, the league is threatening legal action against some players who complained that the league reneged on promises to pay medical bills for injured players.

Seriously, who could’ve seen injuries happening? The women are playing in next to no clothing, with very little protection, and many have no football training.

Who could forsee injuries? My favorite part of the legal filing is the “accidental nudity” clause, wherein a player told The Smoking Gun that the league didn’t want women wearing bras or underwear. Why? Well, that would cut down on the chance of “accidental nudity” occuring during the game.

And yes, that’s covered in the contract.

Oh well, looks like the LFL is not long for this world. That’s too bad. Because I heard Cinemax had a line on their next TV contract.

The wildly unfair sex crimes laws in America

There are times in this country where well-meaning laws go way, way too far.

Where a good idea ends up doing nearly as much harm as good.

Today I’m all ticked off because of a series of stories I’ve read about how teenagers who had consensual sex with other teenagers are often treated like pedophiles and rapists.

I’m talking about the sex offender laws that punish some truly innocent people. In our efforts to keep creepy men away from touching small boys and girls, we’ve swept up into a net people who are far, far from a danger to kids.

Let’s take this case from Ann Arbor, Mich. that was reported on www.annarbor.com this week. Twenty-three-year-old Matthew Freeman is now facing one year in jail. Why? He played basketball within 400 feet of a school. In his own driveway.

This is a crime in Freeman’s case because in 2003, at age 17, he was convicted of fourth-degree sexual assault for having consensual sex with his 15-year-old girlfriend. That conviction required him to spend 10 years on the state’s sex offender list.

Or how about, in another extreme case, authorities in Georgia trying to evict a man with Alzheimer’s from a hospice, because he’s a sex offender and the hospice is within 1,000 feet of a church?

Or better still, how about the case of Fitzroy Barnaby, a 28-year-old man from Evanston, Ill. who’s on the sex offender list after while driving his car, he nearly hit a teen pedestrian. Barnaby got out of the car and grabbed the girl’s arm to talk to her, she called the police, and suddenly a jury finds him guilty of unlawful restraint of a minor, which puts him on the sex offender list.

This is insanity, people. There are absolutely good reasons to have these laws on the books, since there are so many perverts, pedophiles and sex criminals out there. But there has to be wiggle room and extenuating circumstances, and flexibility, in these laws. Branding someone a sex offender is worse, in many ways, than calling him or her a murderer.

They can be ostracized from their friends, their community, and their life can be made a living hell. To simply lump a teenager who had sex with his girlfriend in with pedophiles is wildly wrong.

Laws must be changed to allow for the discretion of judges, juries and state officials who maintain “sex offender lists.”

The culture of fear has overtaken common sense far too often in these cases, with innocent people doing time they don’t deserve.

Lil Wayne’s real estate problem, and the Washington Post re-writes Public Enemy lyrics

Every once in a while, you’ve gotta feel bad for celebrities who are rich and famous.

I mean, right now it’s gotta stink to be Lil’ Wayne. Sure, he’s the biggest rapper around, selling millions of records and being idolized by kids of all ages, race, and musical background.

But according to this story in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, old Lil’ is having real estate issues. Aren’t we all? Although not many like this.

Seems that the man who sings about “bitches and hos” is trying to sell his 3-bedroom, 2 bath condo in Miami. But apparently, it’s not selling. And that might be because prospective buyers being led through the home report an overwhelming stench of marijuana, and “hot, rap-video girls walking around in nothing but a bra and underwear, blasting hip-hop.”

You know, I’m sure a ton of Century 21 agents would love that listing!

But seriously, maybe these real estate agents aren’t making the deal sweet (or high) enough. They should tell the clients that hey, if you act now, Mo’Nique will stay for the first few weeks teaching you how to pole dance, and we’ll throw in any weed you find lying in the couch cushions for free!

***So call me a newspaper nerd if you will, but my absolute favorite year-end collection/list to peruse is the best of the best newspaper corrections of the year, collected at www.regrettheerror.com. There have been some brilliant ones in the past (the weekly paper in Denver that once had to correct an article about the Garden State by saying “the writer meant to say New Jersey, not Jew Jersey” is a personal favorite of mine), but this year’s best is great because of what it sparked.

Basically, in a story in the Washington Post about Public Enemy, the writer said the famous hip-hop trio once said “9/11 was a joke.” In reality, Public Enemy’s lyric was about 911 (calling the police) being a joke.

So the correction itself was pretty funny. But then people on Twitter got ahold of other possible “music corrections,” and it’s freakin’ hilarious. A couple of my favorites: “Mo money does not, as was reported, bring mo problems. We regret the error.”

Or how about “we have in fact determined that there IS sunshine after you’ve gone, even if you’re sad.” Or “there is, in fact, a mountain high enough. The Post regrets the error.” Or, another of my favorites, “We would like to clarify that if you got a problem, yo, Vanilla Ice will not actually solve it.”

Check them all out on Twitter here.

Why we love athletic competition, as explained by me (sort of). And Ben Franklin does commercials with 80s music

So this might be one of those posts that only athletes understand. Or tennis players. Or, well, no one.

When I’m on the tennis court, I usually don’t pay attention to anything besides the ball, and the guy I’m playing.

I’m not thinking of the overdue electric bill, or the notes I have to transcribe that night, or the stupid fight I had with that guy at work a few hours earlier.

I’m pretty well zoned in, and rarely do outside thoughts creep into my head.

So Monday night I had an interesting moment on the court; not really an epiphany, but close. I’m playing singles in my weekly league match, and I go up 5-3 in the first set. I’m better than this guy, and I should be winning, I think.

Then, as often happens, I let up for a minute and my opponent, Rick, wins the next two games. It’s 5-5, and the set is up for grabs.

OK, I tell myself. No big deal. If I lose this set, I can still come back, it’s two out of three sets here …

And then after two particularly long points in a row, it hits me: I really, really want to win this set. I really, really want to win this match. Suddenly, it’s very important to me that I win.

I am absolutely loving the 1-on-1 competition I’m involved in. Rick and I, complete strangers, locked in a duel for two hours, just to see who’s better on one night on a tennis court.

For the next hour, I relish this match. He wins the first set, I win the second, and we play a tiebreaker for the third. I win, 10-8.

I am wildly happy, and exhilarated, and satisfied. All over a tennis match, one of thousands I’ve played in my life.

So why did I suddenly deem it so important that I compete hard and win? I think it speaks to why we love competition in general, especially in individual sports like tennis.

Sports is a way for us to test ourselves, every time. Do I still have what I used to? Can I still hit that forehand up the line, or the jump shot from the corner? Unlike so much of our lives, with patches of gray scattered as we search for solutions, sports gives us a definitive answer. Either I succeed and win, or I fail and lose. At the end of the day, I have a crystal-clear verdict.

I also think maybe it has something to do not just with winning or losing, but about the feeling of control. So often we feel powerless over our lives, but in tennis, it’s just me and the other guy, and I can make him miss shots with what I do.

I don’t know, maybe I’m just rambling incoherently here. I guess I’m just trying to say that for a minute, I was able to step outside myself and appreciate why I love tennis, and sports, so damn much.

***And now, for something completely different. Check out this hilarious commercial for a plumbing company in Georgia, which combines a great 80s song, and one of our Founding Fathers. How come no one thought to put those two things together before?

The disgraceful sucking up to Lieberman, mascots gone wild, and a very cool hockey goal

Yeah, I’m pissed at Joe Lieberman.

The Connecticut senator has once again revealed himself to be a moral-less, depraved politician who only wants to stick it to the liberal Democrats who pushed him out in the Connecticut primary in 2006. And how a man who three months ago says he’s a big fan of something (the Medicare buy-in) now says he can’t vote for a bill with that in there, boggles the mind. Joe’s got all the cards and he’s holding the health care bill hostage.

So yeah, I’m pissed at him. But I’m MORE pissed at President Obama and the other Democrats, who are so freaking willing to bend over and kiss Joe’s, um, ring. Why, why, why are we letting this egomaniac run wild and completely decide what the health care bill will look like?

This thing has already been more watered-down than the Slip N’ Slide in your backyard, and now the Dems are kowtowing to Lieberman? Is Obama this desperate to get something, anything, passed on health care? I say screw Lieberman, and talk to a few other moderate Republicans if you’re so dead-set on passing the health care bill with 60 votes.

Otherwise, man up, grow a set, and use reconciliation, which requires on 51 votes to pass bills. It’s utterly ridiculous that Joe Lieberman gets to hold up health care.

Strip him of his freakin’ chairmanship, at least. Spineless, spineless Democrats again can’t get out of their own way. Who lets a guy like Lieberman dictate the entire terms of the debate?

Pathetic. Here’s Howard Dean, who, for whatever else you say about him, is a doctor and knows what the hell he’s talking about on the health care issue. His advice? Blow the damn thing up.

**Adventures in Mascots:  Man I love stories like this. One of the men who performs as the mascot at New England Patriots games has been arrested in Rhode Island as part of a prostitution sting.

Robert Sormanti was arrested in a Providence hotel over the weekend.

So many jokes here, how do I pick just one? OK, how about this: Do you think at the end he said, “Rates sure have gone up since 1776?”

And did he say, “Just so you know, the term ‘Minuteman’ is a misnomer?”

Or how about, “Tell me how Ben Franklin likes it.”

Sorry, that was three jokes. Couldn’t help myself.

**So check out this remarkable goal by the Chicago Blackhawks’ Marian Hossa the other night; you really have to watch the slo-mo replay to appreciate how skillful it was:

Ole’ Roy Williams acts like a king, a fave TV show slips, and a Walgreens sign that made me laugh

Well, well, looks like Ole’ Roy Williams has lot his cool yet again, and once again abused his power.

The North Carolina basketball coach, who is as thin-skinned as they come, apparently isn’t satisfied being king of the hoops world these days, and the most popular man in The Tar Heel state.

Nope, now he’s kicking opposing fans out of the Dean Dome for yelling things at his players. Seriously.

Last Saturday against mighty Presbyterian College, the Tar Heels were winning big as expected. Late in the game, with Carolina forward Deon Thompson at the foul line, a Presbyterian fan named Brian King sitting behind the Carolina bench yelled “Hey Deon, don’t miss it!”

So Ole’ Roy turns around and points at the guy, starts yelling at him, and then has security eject him from the arena.

The Carolina spokespeople later claimed that when security got to King’s seat, he seemed intoxicated and that’s why they threw him out. King denies it, and the UNC security people adamantly state that Roy didn’t ask for the guy to be thrown out, only that his tickets be checked.

Please. I believe the guy. What arrogance of Williams, to try to get rid of a guy who’s simply heckling a college basketball player. Disgraceful, but not that unusual for Roy. And sine when can a

And yeah, you all know I’m a Duke fan. But still, this was despicable for any coach.

**So I saw the following sign at Walgreen’s tonight as I drove past and it made me laugh:  “H1N1 vaccine available here.”

followed underneath by:

“Progresso Soup $.99″

Because you know, I expect a typical consumer to be driving by, turn to his wife and say, “You know honey, I think it’s about time we got that swine flu virus we’ve been hearing so dang much about. And hey, how ’bout some soup for dinner?”

**Quick midseason update on my two favorite CBS Monday night shows, the only two shows I watch on the network (I gave “The Good Wife,” a try this year, but after three episodes I just gave up. Couldn’t get into it.)

“The Big Bang Theory” continues to kick major ass; Monday night the brilliant Christine Baranski was back as Leonard’s mom. She ruled.

I’m sad to say, though, that “How I Met Your Mother” is falling faster than Tiger Woods’ reputation. I’m sorry, the show feels forced this season, and the storylines are getting dumber and dumber (the gang all starts smoking, then all tries to quit?). The old “HIMYM” would’ve laughed at this season’s lameness. The characters have grown stale.

Sigh.

A rare easy win for the Jets, OD’ing on Barack, and a huge gay-rights win in Houston

Well that was a highly unusual Jets game for me.

Hardly any pacing or shouting. Very little teeth-gnashing or anger-filled phone calls to my Jets posse. It was a delightfully easy win for the Gang Green, a 26-3 pasting of the pathetic Tampa Bay Bucs. I realize I insult all pathetic things by calling the Bucs pathetic; quite frankly, Tampa would have had to improve quite a bit Sunday to reach the high level of patheticness.

Basically, the Jets did what I expected them to do on offense: Run, run, run. Kellen Clemens proved once again he has as much business being an NFL quarterback as I do in the NBA as a dunking coach. Seriously, dude missed open receivers by THREE FEET sometimes! He was pretty bad for most of the game, though he did make a few nice throws in the second half, and most importantly, he didn’t screw up with any bad turnovers.

The defense was terrific, harassing Tampa’s running game and completely confusing poor rookie QB Josh Freeman. Man did that kid look lost.

The Jets running game was terrific again; I’d like to see them use Brad Smith more like they did today, on some Wildcat option plays. Guy is fast and has a strong arm so he’s a threat to throw.

And Thomas Jones, well, he was great again. (Discuss: Thomas Jones is the second-best running back in Jets history. At worst, he’s third, behind Curtis Martin and Freeman McNeil.)

The Jets have now won three in a row, against, admittedly, crappy teams,  and once again Sunday, the football gods shined upon them in other games. Miami beat Jacksonville, and Denver lost, too. The Jets are now tied with Miami, Jacksonville and Baltimore for the wild card spot, and stayed one game behind Bully Belichick’s New England team (who don’t scare anybody anymore; hell, Carolina was tied at 10 in Foxboro with someone named Matt Moore as their quarterback).

Still don’t think my boys are going to the playoffs, but if Sanchez is healthy next week and the Jets can beat Atlanta, well, things will get interesting.

Couple quick NFL thoughts:

– A brief toot of my own horn. In my weekly NFL pick ‘em league, I went 14-for-14 on Sunday’s games. Picked every single winner correctly. I don’t think I’ve ever done that before. OK, you can stop applauding now.

– Indy escapes again. New Orleans escapes again. Both are 13-0. Five more wins each, and my dream of two 18-0 teams meeting in the Super Bowl becomes reality.

– The NFL blackout rule kills me. 85 miles away from Jacksonville, a bunch of Miami Dolphins fans who really wanted to see their team play the Jags had absolutely no options Sunday afternoon. No viewing allowed on basic TV, or DirectTV, blacked out in both places because Jacksonville didn’t sell the game out. Just an awful, awful rule.

– This just in: The Giants defense is awful. What a wildly entertaining Sunday night game, though, with Philly claiming a 45-38 win over the Giants. Every few minutes there was another huge scoring play. But man, the Giants D stinks.

***So I saw President Obama on “60 Minutes” last night, and once again he was smart and well-spoken and defended his ideas well.

I used to laugh at the following notion when it was first posed a few months ago, but now I’m thinking it might not be crazy: Is this President on TV too much? I mean, every five minutes he’s doing another interview or press conference or speech. I just think maybe we should see him a little less, give off the appearance of being a little more presidential, and not be so available.

Just a thought.

***Finally, I wanted to follow up on something I wrote about a month ago, which become a terrific reality Saturday: The city of Houston elected its first openly gay mayor, as Annise Parker won a run-off election. The fourth-largest city in America has a lesbian mayor, becoming the biggest U.S. city to ever have an openly gay person in charge at City Hall.

This is huge, especially in a place like Texas, which in the past has not proven to be, shall we say, welcoming to people who are different.

Brick by brick, crack by crack, the wall of intolerance is coming down.

Worried about the Jets, some Sandler for Hanukkah, and songs I want at my funeral

If you’re a Jets fan this morning, you are absolutely concerned that Kellen Clemens will sabotage our season today.

Look, there is literally NO reason to believe this guy, who was given chance after chance to be the Jets QB of the future, can lead the team to a win over Tampa Bay.

Sure, the Bucs stink. And sure, the Jets have needed so many minor miracles the last few weeks from

other teams just to still have a shot at the playoffs (Eric Mangini and the Cleveland Browns, thank you for Thursday night!). And sure, they probably don’t need great QB play today to beat Tampa.

But still, I just have no faith Clemens can play a decent game. We’ll see.

****So, my wonderful wife has gotten into the spirit of Hanukkah since we’ve been together. One year when we were dating she garnished her whole apartment in Hanukkah-themed decorations as a surprise when I came over one December night. She spins a mean dreidel, and she makes great latkes, too. Anyway, Saturday she came home with latkes and some blue and white (normally black and white) cookies. Yummy.

Anyway, here’s Adam Sandler’s Hanukkah song for you, in case you haven’t heard it yet this year:

**Finally, I’m not much of a death guy. I don’t think about it too much, don’t dread it, really don’t touch on the subject much at all.

All I’ve asked my family is, when my time on Earth has passed, to play two songs at my funeral: Guns N’ Roses’ “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” which totally got me through my freshman year of high school, and “Goodbye My Friend,” by Linda Ronstadt, which chokes me up every time I hear it (and was featured in the greatest “Wonder Years” episode ever.”

Is that so much to ask?

Here’s a little G N’ R, for the 80s music lovers among you. God this is such a great song.

“Daily Show” on intentionally stupid blondes, Whitey Herzog, and the Rock Hall of Fame concert

So a few quick thoughts for today:

Jon Stewart and “The Daily Show” nail our politicians and pop culture figures so often it’s easy to take them for granted. Sometimes you just have to stop and marvel at them, like today with the above clip. Satire, when done right, is just so much better than calling someone a name, which is all the Republican right seem to be doing these days (Terrorist! Fascist! Socialist!)

**So ever since HBO aired the four-hour 25th Anniversary Rock and Roll Hall of Fame concert from MSG a few weeks ago, I’ve been watching it little by little. A few acts here, 20 minutes there, and I’m almost finished with it.

If you haven’t seen it, it’s pretty freaking awesome. So many legends were on stage for at least a few songs each, and just about all of them sound so good.

Couple highlights for me so far:

–Simon and Garfunkel, looking happy to be together, performing “Sounds of Silence” and “The Boxer” in perfect harmony.

–U2, Mick Jagger and Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas doing a kick-ass version of “Gimme Shelter.”

–Bruce Springsteen and Patty Smith performing a great version of “Because The Night.”

– Stevie Wonder continuing to blow everyone away with his voice and his piano-playing.

Honestly, the whole thing is fantastic. Check it out if you have a chance.

**Finally, I know I’m late on this, too, but I saw Whitey Herzog got elected into the Baseball Hall of Fame this week. He was a great manager for the St. Louis Cardinals, but I remember two things very specifically about Whitey: He was the answer to a great trivia question (“Who was the first person to ever hit into an all-Cuban (player) triple play?” and 2, this great little story about him from SI in 1987.

Another peek behind the sportswriter curtain, a heartwarming story, and the Glee fall finale

So this is another one of those “what it’s like to be a sportswriter” blog posts.

I’ve gotten to do a lot of cool things in my 12 years as a sportswriter. But one thing I’d never done, in my years of covering high school sports, is stayed in one place for four consecutive years, and gotten to cover a star athlete from their freshman year, all the way through senior year.

At my last three journalism stops, I’d stayed three years or less, which is pretty common for young writers. So kind of like a teacher who works with a kid for a long time, then wonders how they turned out, I never really got to see the full 360-degree maturation process of these young athletes.

‘Til now. Katie Lindstrom is a volleyball player at Warner Christian Academy, a small Christian school in South Daytona, Fla. She’s everything you’d want in an athlete: quick on her feet, makes smart decisions, and is unfailingly upbeat and encouraging.

I first met her when she was in ninth grade, in my first few months here in Daytona Beach. I’m quite certain it was the first time she’d ever been interviewed. She was extremely nervous, pausing to think about each answer, but she was unfailingly polite and friendly. I remember thinking that she was a smart kid, and one who could be a really good player one day.

Fast forward 3 1/2 years. Katie Lindstrom is now a high school senior. She just led her team at Warner to a second straight Class 1A state volleyball title. She was the unquestioned physical and emotional leader of the team, and when the championship match was over, Lindstrom walked up to the makeshift podium on the court to receive her medal from the official.

And a whole bunch of Warner fans in the crowd started chanting “Katie! Katie!” It was a goosebumps moment for her, and she started crying again.

I have to admit, I got some goosebumps, too. We write about athletes and talk to them in brief spurts of time, never really, truly knowing them. But here was a kid who in 2006 was more shy than a church mouse, and now she’d turned into a terrific leader of a team, and now after her last game people were chanting her name. I’d basically watched this kid grow up, athletically, right before my eyes.

It was truly something cool to see, this metamorphosis, and again, I liken it to a teacher seeing a student they once taught, all grown up, proud and confident and having turned out quite well.

I interviewed Lindstrom, maybe for the last time, on Wednesday. She was voted by the area’s coaches as our Player of the Year. We chatted for a while, she was her usual “sweet almost to a fault” self, and then I said goodbye and wished her good luck.

We thanked each other and then I left. It may be the last time I ever see her. Soon, there will be new freshmen to follow and other transformations to see.

The sportswriting world keeps on spinning, but every once in a while it slows down to let you see something special.

*So I try not to pimp my own News-Journal work too much on this site, frankly because I plainly acknowledge that if you were really that interested in Daytona Beach sports, you’d go to our website. (Also, I don’t think a lot of what I write for the paper is very good.)

But if you have a minute, please check out this story I wrote for today’s paper, about a high school football player whose brother died of brain cancer five years ago, but is still being honored in a special way by a football team having a special season. (That’s Shawn on the left, and Josh on the right, about two years before Josh died at age 9.)

**So thanks to my stupid cable box not working Wednesday night, I didn’t see the “Glee” finale until Thursday.

It was totally worth the wait. Loved, loved, loved it. Sue Sylvester with one of her best lines ever (“Bring it on, William. I’m reasonably confident you’ll be adding revenge to the long list of things you’re no good at. Next to being married, running a high school glee club, and finding a hairstyle that doesn’t make you look like a lesbian.”), fantastic solos by Rachel and Mercedes, the look on Mr. Schuester’s face when he hears the glee club perform at sectionals, through Emma’s phone … just great stuff.

Can’t wait ’til it’s back in April.