I’m madder than a Yankee fan who bought playoff tickets over the fact that sports gets more ink these days than other, more important things in this world, like, for instance, where I had dinner with my lovely wife Sharon last Tuesday.
Look, you all know that whenever you pick up the newspaper in this day and age, the vast majority of it is about guys hitting, catching, or throwing balls. In fact, those nitwits at the Daily New York Post dedicate the whole back page to what happens on any given Sunday instead of giving us a second glimpse at really important stuff in the world, like the economy, the price of milk and gas, and how stamps are going to cost a couple of cents beginning next year.
So instead of getting the news we need, we get pictures of a bunch a guys running around in tights! And it is setting a really bad example for our youngsters, who now think it’s cooler to become an athlete than it is to be president of the United States.
And it’s not just the newspapers that are selling our kids down the river, it’s the television news as well.
Don’t believe me? Well then see for yourself by checking out the local news at 6 and 11 and watch what they are covering. It seems to me when they’re not screaming about the fact that this next storm that is about to hit is going to wipe us off the face of the earth, they’re telling us that the Giants are a lousy 5 and 0. I mean, who cares!?
And this pro-sports agenda is having its way on our little tykes.
I heard a story the other day about a mom who signed her big-boned boy up for kindergarten football. Apparently, some of the coaches saw this husky 4-year-old in the block corner and figured they needed him on the offensive line. But I’ll tell you this, folks, when I heard “kindergarten football,” I almost dropped my beloved meatball sandwich, because I couldn’t believe that a 4-year-old would be forced onto the field and asked to knock over another one.
But it’s true! And this mom friend thought it was a good idea, because it extended the school day and gave her kid the chance to get some time to play with kids his age. So she thought it was a no-brainer!
But her kid saw things differently.
Apparently, this mini-gentle giant went to his first practice and bawled his eyes out the first time another kid laid a finger on him. She had to take him home early from the first practice, but he went back for more the next time — and cried hysterically agian!
Apparently, he’s not reading the sports pages, and doesn’t realize if he wants to go pro, he’s going to have to get in his 10,000 hours post haste, and the only way to do that is start working on blocking before the first grade.
Or is he? His mom updated me that he’s still going to the practices because he likes them — even though he still cries a little bit.
Well, through it all, I still get pig-biting mad whenever I see these prize billionaire athletes pampered whenever they get caught doing something illegal, nasty, or not quite kosher. I’m not even going near the topic of steroids! And ditto goes for unsavory politicians.
Now is the point in the column where I mention something completely out of left field, and, in the process, let the ruls of capitalization fly out the window, much to the chagrin of my editor.
Me and the Wife attended the Brooklyn Columbus Parade Luncheon at the Dyker Heights Banquet Hall honoring the Grand Marshals on Saturday on Oct. 6. Being honored were Father Michael Gelfant, Pastor of St. Finbar R.C. Church; Josephine Sportella-Giusto, Principal of the Academy of Talented Scholars; Luigi Rosabianca of Rosabianca & Associates, and Lenny Tillman of Lenco Diagnostic Laboratories.
For 33 years, the Federation of Italian American Organizations of Brooklyn has been the primary sponsor of the Brooklyn Columbus Parade along with neighborhood community groups and individuals. The Parade starts at 65 Street on Cristoforo Colombo Boulevard (18th Avenue) down to 84th Street on Sat. Oct. 12 at 1 pm.
So come out and enjoy the parade!
And if you are reading this on Sunday, or in print, too bad, because you missed it!
Screech at you next week!