Boston, another glorious day ...
Tonight, ESPN's SportsCenter is dedicating a segment on what else was happening in the world of sport when OJ Simpson and his buddy took off in a white Ford Bronco and went on a little joy ride around Los Angeles exactly 15 years ago. The teasers was, "What you missed" while OJ was huddled in the back seat, gun to his head. Things like the opening of the first futbol World Cup on United States soil, the New York Rangers victory parade celebrating the team's first Stanley Cup in 45 years, and an NBA playoff game between the New York Knicks and the Houston Rockets.
I'll tell you what I missed out on. That Friday should have been one of the best nights of my life. It was my bachelor weekend, and my brother Sean had collected a tremendous group of guys to celebrate with us in the hills of southern Vermont, at Mount Snow, which was hosting a World Cup mountain bike weekend. I was in fat-tire heaven. Instead of strippers, we got to oogle some of the finest and fittest female athletes in the world (such as the sultry and statuesque Italian Paola Pezzo; be still my heart!). We pedaled a good part of the day, watched some amazing racing when we took a break from riding, and were gearing up for a night on the town when the TV got clicked on in the condo. And there, for all the world to see, was OJ on the run ...
I feel the same way today that I felt 15 years ago. I was begging -- pleading -- for OJ to end the quintessential Hollywood soap opera by putting a bullet in his head. That's what everyone was watching to see happen anyway, and that was the only thing that was going to pull my posse away from the Boob Tube. OJ's "slow speed" chase along the LA highways, with a gaggle of police cruisers in tow, was a made-for-TV melodrama that proved riveting to everyone, it seemed, but me. I was stoked for some serious partying (well, as serious as parties can get in southern Vermont in early summer). Instead, we had a bunch of guys hovering over the TV, with me in the background, by the door, screaming "Pull the trigger, OJ! Do it now, for God's sake! Please!"
Nevermind the fact that Simpson would have saved the city of Los Angeles millions of dollars -- and saved the rest of us from having to put up with the constant regurgitation of of his trial (only the single biggest travesty known to jurisprudence, with the possible exception of Enron and George W. Bush's election) by simply applying a little pressure on the trigger that night. Of course, he was too much of a coward to do that. And, please, don't insult me with any lame arguments about how he was never convicted (Yeah, OJ, how's that search for the "real killer" going?). Simpson was guilty as sin, plain and simple. At least the civil case jury got it right. But, just like so many high-profile cases, this was about money, not justice. It's just like Kobe Bryant's little "romantic interlude" in Colorado a few years back, or Donte Stallworth's 30-day sentence for killing a man while driving drunk this past winter (to Stallworth's unending credit, he immediately owned up to his culpability; something that Simpson and Bryant, not to mention George W., are clearly unable to do).
I've always had a major hair across my butt regarding the Cult of Personality in this country in this day and age. Sadly, it's only getting worse, especially in the Wide World of Sports. I can usually ignore it. But when it interferes with my bachelor party, well, then it's personal! ;-)
Best,
-Brion
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