Tan Posts

Yesterday Ziller pointed out some of the hubbubbling on the Vogue cover with LeBron James and Gisele Bundchen. Some are taking issue with the cover reinforcing negative stereotypes of black athletes, fearing – and legitimately so! – that continued exposure to such suggestive imagery will make society at large treat black people like ... gorillas? It's the kind of old school racism that makes me want to snatch a white women off the street before climbing a nearby skyscraper and pounding my chest in a furious rage. Don't try to stop me, I will swat away your helicopters, and throw barrels at your short Italian dudes. ROOWWWRR!

This is what's confusing about racist accusations like this. It's sort of like: huh? What am I being protected from again? Are white people going to see the cover and try to capture me and/or feed me bananas? Are they going to mistakenly look for LeBron at the zoo instead of a Cleveland Cavaliers game? Where do these people who so easily conflate humans and animals live? And why would we write columns to accommodate their anomalous brains?

I have a lot of respect for ESPN's Jemele Hill, she has written a number of powerful, informative, insightful columns on race-related sport issues. But on this one she's forcing the issue. Let's break it down:

Jerry Rice, often referred to as the "greatest wide receiver to play the game," and sometimes the "greatest football player ever," is amongst the most iconic athletes in sports, let alone NFL history. Despite this legendary status his #80 jersey for the San Francisco 49ers is shockingly not retired. And now the recently signed Isaac Bruce, who himself wore the #80 throughout his 14 year tenure as a Ram, and also ranks among the greatest WRs of all time (#3 on the all time yardage list) is considering wearing Jerry's jersey, and Rice has given his blessing.

"I don't know what is going to happen in that scenario but if it was left up to me I would say, 'Yeah.' For Steve Largent to do what he did for me he showed me a side of him where I just feel like I have to do the same thing. He set the standard. It would be left up to Isaac and myself to sit down and talk or if the 49ers decide to do something like that it is OK with me."

It is a classy move by a traditionally class act, but the fact is Jerry Rice wearing the same # as Steve Largent -- a great WR, but no Jerry Rice -- is not the same as Bruce, or anyone, wearing #80 for the 49ers. Despite Bruce's HOF resume this move is the equivalent of Aaron Rodgers asking if he can wear Favre's #4 jersey next season. In a word and a punctuation mark: Blasphemous!

Like Lawrence Taylor's #56, Barry Sanders' #20, Jerry Rice's red-and-gold #80 is a memory that should not be tampered with, even if Jerry doesn't mind. It's not really about him, it's about the fans and the organization.

Bruce, who originally chose the number out of respect for Rice, and who is an equally classy guy himself will probably opt for an alternative. I'm sure 95% of San Francisco fans are hoping he does the right thing. Sorry, No Photos

TAN (The Assimilated Negro) makes jokes and broad generalizations in his exploration of race and sports.

With all the hullabaloo (there's a word I used growing up in the Bronx all the time) over Brett Favre retiring and the end of an era in Green Bay -- nay, the NFL! -- I couldn't help but wonder if perhaps Mr. Wrangler deciding to hang up his jeans will signal the end of The Great White Quarterback Era as well.

Of course I don't mean to imply there won't be anymore white quarterbacks in the NFL, or even great white ones. I'm talking about the "Great White Quarterback" story as an iconic igniter for racial flamewars. Over the past 5 years or so when his play ranged from MVP-caliber to MVPiece-of-doo-doo caliber, Favre was the poster boy for anyone looking to point out unfair treatment of white QBs vs. Black QBs (or other athletes).

This wasn't a debate or conversation confined to NAACP meetings, or the homeys hanging out at the bar and bashing The Man. Everyone was in on it. When Donovan McNabb said black quarterbacks have "to do a little bit extra," CBS Sports's MIke Freeman defended McNabb by pointing at Favre. Blog posts inquiring about racism in the NFL were abundant, many using The Great Favre as their lead-blocker. Back in 2005, Slate explained why Brett Favre, Great White Quarterback, got media love even when his results don't support it.

TAN (The Assimilated Negro) makes jokes and broad sweeping generalizations in Shirts & Skins, his weekly exploration of race and sports. His opinions, like this tagline, may change at any moment.

How fitting that on the day after Super Tuesday Mets fans will finally get to meet the man who will likely be their president for the next seven years, Johan Santana. Finally Mets fans get to see their new star in the flesh. They get to hear the new voice in the clubhouse. And they get to taste the dulce de leche icing on the latin cake GM Omar Minaya has cooked up in Queens.

Of course if we had a crumb for every article explaining how this moment came to fruition we'd be able to cure famine across the universe. But really all you need to know is this: Johan Santana wanted to be a Met. After all, this was a man with a no trade clause to control his destiny. He didn't have to go anywhere he didn't want to go, and he could wait a year to sign wherever his heart desired.

But his heart desired to play in the Latin Disneyworld in Flushing. And why not? There's money, opportunity to win, and a lot more players speaking his language. On Minnesota last year there was one Spanish speaking regular, Luis Castillo (who incidentally was traded to the Mets, much to Santana's discontent), and a couple players total. On the Mets there are five regulars, including Luis Castillo, and more than half the roster can roll their "r's" with ease.

In March of '05 NY Magazine profiled Minaya's building of a "Latin Dream Team" and positioned him as a contrarian to the popular Moneyball, a book with the tagline: "The art of winning an unfair game." Three years later the Johan Santana signing may be the final crowning chapter for the would-be manual on Raceball: The art of using racism to create a winning culture.

Problem: Your guy has been reading Fanhouse all week, filling his head up with all sorts of talking points and analysis that he will use to annoyingly pepper you with all throughout Super Bowl Sunday. He's busy pounding his chest and asserting himself as king of the Super Bowl castle, meanwhile all you wanna do is get pregnant. LADIES, MY MERCEDES!

Solution: Here's the guide with all the counter-intelligence you need to reverse the momentum and set him back on his heels. Plus, I'm going to give you a couple extra lines that will either leave him all hot, bothered and unable to high-five his boys cause he has a boner, or flaccid and depressed because he knows his post-game will consist of nothing but a cold shower and a night alone with his Super Bowl wisdom. Here's how it breaks down:

The Boast: Guys are just regurgitating the stuff they see on ESPN or read online. We give you 4 likely sound bytes of Football Intelligence you'll hear for the Pats/Giants game.

The Reverse: What they haven't considered, but you have. Now. The only football knowledge you'll need to turn the tables on Mr. Stupid.

Weird Look: Obviously the guy is going to be taken aback when you up the ante. Here's what to say to make him comfortable in his manhood again.

Following the initial kick-off and return you have two options: One leads to hot sex at halftime. The other leads to his public embarrassment. The choice is up to you:

The Whisper: Every woman's trump card. Here's the line to whisper in his ear if you want to derail his one-track football mind.

The Glare: The other trump card. Say this while giving him the glare-eyes and he'll know you're the Tom Brady to his Eli Manning.

So now you know the formation. We've got some plays after the jump. Ready, break!

TAN (The Assimilated Negro) makes jokes and broad sweeping generalizations in Shirts & Skins, his weekly exploration of race and sports. His opinions, like this tagline, may change at any moment.

Is there a more beloved head coach in professional sports than Tony Dungy?

Belichick may be a genius, but falls short on the love meter. Ditto Phil Jackson. Joe Torre was beloved, but the bloom is surely off that rose as he heads to LA, Land of Apathetic fans.

But everyone loves Tony (except the gays). And the decision of The Greatest Black NFL Coach Ever to spend at least one more year steering the Colts, along with the recent MLK holiday, and the arrival of the first black GM in the Super Bowl, and, like, Obama, has that sweet smell of melanin in the air. We are living the dream. Holla!

The interesting sidebar to Dungy's Deal or No Deal drama was learning Jim Caldwell, black man, would assuredly be the next coach after him. That would make Caldwell, who's been with him since the TB days, the first "legacy hire" for black head coaches. The minority "old boys network" just put down their first NFL power move! We're moving Jimmy in, and that's that. The ROC is in the building!

It was only a few years ago (2003) that the NFL felt they had to exercise The Rooney Rule, the NFL's affirmative action coaching policy, and fine the Detroit Lions for not interviewing a minority candidate. Now we're up in Super Bowls, and two black assistant coaches you probably never heard of (Tomlin, Caldwell) have come out of nowhere to land high profile gigs. So what does this mean for The Rooney Rule? If black head coaches are starting to walk on their own, is it time to lose the crutches?

This week we're doing a Rooney Review to determine if we are in need of Rooney Reform. There will be other "R" words. We'll also figure out how to tie Tony Dungy back in since that's what I used to lead off this column. After the jump sexy words and exclamation points about NFL affirmative-action policy making. Aw yeah ...

TAN (The Assimilated Negro) makes jokes and broad sweeping generalizations in Shirts & Skins, his weekly exploration of race and sports. His opinions, like this tagline, may change at any moment.

One of the NFL's major stories this year could be an American sitcom called the "The Assimilation of Randy Moss."

At the start of the season Moss was a down-and-out malcontent; a tarnished diamond in the rough of the NFL projects known as the Oakland Raiders. Then he gets shipped off to a New England boarding school, shares a room with Captain America Brady, throws on the blazer, button-down shirt, and tie (in J. Crew's fall catalogue this look is called The Patriot) and shapes up his act. From there his exponential development could only be properly expressed through video montage.

Now motivated, Moss is putting his abundant tools to good use. Assimilation successful: Touchdown! Still sassy, funny and smart -- but no longer a menace to society -- Randy Moss has become the Will Smith of Wide Receivers. The Fresh Prince of New England.

Now this is the story all about how
Randy Moss's life got flipped turned upside down
and I'd like to take a minute just sit right there
I'll tell you how he became the prince of a town called Bel Air ... New England