My two things:
1. I never, ever, ever, ever thought we’d see Roy Jones, Jr. still fighting at age 40. And yet, here he is, getting humiliated last night by someone named Danny Green. I’m guessing the odds of Jones reading this blog are quite slim, but here I go—Roy, please retire. P-l-e-a-s-e. In your prime, you were the best fighter I’ve ever seen. Really, the absolute best. A dominant force who could dominate with either hand, at nearly any weight, with style and skill and spark. But you’re done, and any attempts to continue to hang on will end disastrously and pock your legacy. This isn’t basketball, where a veteran can collect $5 million for sitting on the end of the bench. This isn’t baseball, where Matt Stairs get big cash for 200 at-bats per season. No, this is a sport where your skull—which contains your brain—gets battered.
Bud, you got spanked by Danny Green.
Danny Green?
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2. I’ve now been asked, oh, 30 times, “So what’d you guys do for Thanksgiving?” This is a question I refuse to ask, because I know nobody cares, and I don’t really care, either. This is a wild guess, but odds are you ate turkey, perhaps with cranberry and stuffing. It doesn’t matter if it was at Mom’s or Uncle Jim’s; whether your oddball sister was at the table or whether you did the cooking yourself. It doesn’t matter if the potatoes were burned, if the pudding was moldy, if the apple juice ran dry.
It doesn’t matter.
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3. A bonus: Tiger Woods admitted he had an affair and violated his wife. Can we now please drop this?
