A shit storm took place after Cam Newton decided to cut short his post Super Bowl presser on Sunday. Being a long-time member of the media, all I can say is: Big deal.
If an athlete doesn’t want to talk after the game, that’s his prerogative. And there are plenty of good reasons for an athlete to elect not to do so, the least of which being he might say something he will regret.
Newton is fun to watch, he’s an incredible athlete, and the Broncos’ players said he was humble after the game when offering them congratulations. So let it go.
One thing I did find amusing amid the dialogue is the idea his decision to not talk to the media somehow punished the media. That’s not the case.
A function of the media is to be a conduit between the athletes fans love to watch and the fans. Thus, when athletes decide not to talk to the media, they are essentially making the decision to not talk to their fans.
I feel lucky to have experienced my high school and college years in the ’70s. I did all kinds of stupid shit, yet my slate remained clean because iPhones, Facebook, texting and the Internet did not exist. Said advances have changed the world for the better, and the worse.
That sentiment came to mind when I read the following card on the Internet: “If The Breakfast Club took place today, all those kids would just be silently texting about their shitty Saturday and never make friends with each other.”
Observing candidates from both political parties jockeying for position, I thought of my late father-in-law Harry Allen, who liked to say of such folly that it reminded him of a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest.
Finally, a great “guy” moment from the past. I had not seen my friend Rick “Bucky” Walsh in a number of years when I visited him one summer afternoon at his home in Charlotte, North Carolina. Typical of guys, we picked up right where we left off. And what did we do while we talked? We drank a lot of beer and watched one of his daughters mow the yard. Doesn’t get much better than that.