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Ok, first of all, we are not prudes, so this blog post is not going to be about the political correctness charge that some of our readers claim we follow blindly. And it’s definitely not about “cafeteria communism,” the newest term that one of my detractors is lovingly calling us these days. (Big sidenote: We like to make money, last time we checked that we prefer “cafeteria capitalist,” thank you very much.)

However, it does appear that once in a while this blog enters certain trend stages, and it looks like this week it, the trend is NUDITY. First, Hope Solo (please, please, please pose all Solo in ESPN the Magazine), and now the 2-year-old son of New England Patriot quarterback Tom Brady, also known in Brazil as Mr. Giselle Bundchen.

This all started when Boston Barstool Sports posted a paparazzi posted a pic of Tom’s and Giselle’s, 2-year-old, having a fun little naked blast on a beach in Costa Rica. No, we aren’t going to post the pic here, if you want to see it, Google it or give BBS some more traffic hit. Even though the pic is not being posted here, we will say that it is extremely common for certain cultures to have their children run around naturally on a beach. And if we were Brady’s lawyers, we would be chatting with the photographer on a couple if issues.

We WILL post what BBS —a very raw and occasionally funny Boston sports web page— said about the picture:

“That’s a big f–king hog for a 2 year old right?  Just swinging low like a boss.  I guess we shouldn’t be surprised though.  That’s what MVP QB’s do.  They impregnate chicks and give birth to big d–ked kids.   Does Peyton Manning have any children?   If he does I bet they got pencil d–ks.

PS – The mom’s a– ain’t bad either.  I was going to try and save this for GTA tomorrow, but just couldn’t do it.  Not with Brady’s kid’s d–k staring me in the face.

Our thoughts? We think that BBS owner David Portnoy crossed the line. There is comedy, and then there is insult. Like we said, we aren’t prudes (just check out what we post on Latino Rebels on a daily basis), but when we try to write comedy, we tend to raise the bar a bit and not go after the cheap laugh.

Now Portnoy’s narcissism is getting him into more trouble and he is facing consequences, and rightly so. First mistake was getting banned by WEEI’s The Big Show, a Boston sports talk institution. It appears that Big Show host Glen Ordway really took Portnoy to town. Hey, it’s a free country and we applaud WEEI for being courageous and telling Portnoy to suck it.

As for Portnoy, looks like he won’t be apologetic. His statement to New England Cable News (NECN) was weak, to say the least. But we let you decide.

“We saw the Brady’s kid picture and basically I saw it and thought it was a funny joke. I mean really that’s the nuts and bolts of it. For me it wasn’t so much about the kid, it’s an ongoing theme with us is that Brady is the best, Brady is God and really for us that blog was just another way to say it. It’s like Brady’s kid is the best, Peyton Manning’s is the worst.”

Here is a video response from Portnoy.

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This is a bit hard to understand, but once in a while I will just be a All-American and red-blooded male, without sounding like a sexist pig. Ok, this is probably going to sound sexist and pig-like. Apologies in advance.

However, there are certain things that make me happy. The Red Sox. US Soccer. My Family. My Friends. Puerto Rican Polls That Show How Unpopular Luis Fortuõ Is. And then there is Hope Freaking Solo.

Yesterday, the American Goalie Goddess (see my Facebook profile and you will get it) tweeted the the following on her stream:

It might be hard to believe that ESPN THE MAGAZINE would actually show Hope going all Solo in his comfortable skin. However, even if it doesn’t happen, this was my Tweet of the Year!

GO USWNT!!! GO HOPE!!!!!

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ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON LATINOREBELS TODAY

The love and support from the listeners of the Tony Bruno show continue on his Facebook page. Last Friday, Bruno got into a social media mess when he tweeted that San Francisco pitcher Ramón Martínez was an “illegal alien.”

First of all Los Angeles radio star Piolín supported Bruno over the weekend, since Bruno posted this on his Facebook page:

Thank you Piolin for the prayers and thoughts. My family and real friends keep me strong because they know who I am and what I am. Threatening my life or wishing bad things makes those of you who resort to this truly troubled.

Having Piloin endorse Bruno is huge, although we probably need to connect with Piolin later once this whole Bruno mess gets resolved. He will have some ‘splaining to do.

As for the story, tt appears that the Bruno loyalists really don’t care about the criticism. However, more and more posts denouncing Bruno’s comments are showing up as well. Looks like this story is just getting started. Here are some of the posts today from his Facebook page:

Love’ya Tony! U still the man! Im Mexican-American of legal resident parents! I’ve always been a loyal listener of your programs for 10 yrs. If Piolin is down with you, then its all good in the hood G! It’s not like everybody that has posted negative remarks on your Facebook page is innocent! It don’t matter who you are, we’ve all said things we regret. It just sucks that you are a radio icon, making u n easy target!

They are talkin about you on SportsCenter… LOVE YOU SO MUCH BRUNO!!! WE ARE BEHIND YOU 100%

Bruno has made it clear that he thinks beanballs are dirty baseball. Managers who order their underlings to enforce unwritten rules on the field while they are secure in the dugout are gutless/cowards. I’ll grant this could be excessive/vitriolic, but that’s the business pundits are in… trying to tease something a little more titillating out of the world of sports. Tony then went on to say that Bochy treats “his” middle relief like unscrupulous bosses treat their illegal aliens. Get it? It’s actually a defense of Ramirez that he’s stuck in the position where he has to do his manager’s dirty bidding. It’s a rip on Bochy… perhaps Bochy thinks that because Ramirez is Hispanic that he can be treated like an illegal alien. A biting hyperbolic rip, sure. Again, isn’t that what pundits do? The dumbing down of discourse is using “racist” when you don’t have an articulate response.

Tony, hello from 16th and Oregon. Listen, can’t excuse what you said. BUT, you are human. I think too many of us get lost in forgetting that thing called “being human”. It includes making mistakes, even stupid ones, and learning from/owning up to them. I applaud you for saying that you were wrong to anyone who will LISTEN (instead of pointing fingers from the perch of a high horse or throne in a glass house). Every single person who puts out a criticism should look in the mirror and if they ever said a derogatory comment (even in “private”), a JOKE that may be offensive, or thought something ill of another person; they should think before they type. Because the high and mighty need to look at themselves before throwing stones. God bless and good luck. Stay thirsty my friend.

People want you suspended or fired for something you said on twitter? These are the same idiots who complain when a waitress gets fired because she downtalks her job on facebook. Hypocrites. You shouldn’t have had to apologize, I’m sure half of these people were yelling at their TVs for the Phillies to “murder” the Giants. I guess racism is worse than the implication of physical harm.

Other comments were a bit more mixed:

Wanna see true racism… just read some of the comments posted on this wall.. The same person who called Tony a skin-headed racist, turned right around & called my black friend a ~N~.. Since when is being white make u right & free to say such horrible things with FULL ill-intent?? There are more latinos supporting Tony then u realize.. btw i’m married to a latin, so because i’m white, should i lynch Tony for his tweet? NOPE!!! I STAND BEHIND HIM, ALONG WITH MY HUSBAND!!!

 

What i’ve noticed thru-out this whole situation, is the people who are bashing tony for his remarks & his fans for supporting him, are 100x’s worse for using foul language & truly racists comments.. I don’t see any of u apologizing.. Ur words are premeditated, not a slip of the tweet during the heat of the moment.. Before any of the politically correct, self-righteous, angels judge, look into ur own mirrors & closets..

 

Time to shut this wall down Tony. Seriously, if anyone on your team is seeing this, stop the bleeding. The hate and ignorance flowing on this board is helping no one, and doing your cause some very real and serious harm. Catering to the strip club douchebags makes for entertaining radio for the less meatfisted out here, but now that they feel you have been wronged, they are rising up in a wall of senseless vitriol that will cause affiliates to drop you like Imus. It’s vacation time, Tony K. style.

So, for all this and for all that will very likely happen now (this story is not going away), we dedicate this song to you, Tony, for the following reasons: FOR BLOCKING US FROM YOUR FACEBOOK PAGE. Sad.

Hit it, Phil!

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It perplexes people who have known me for ages as well as my new friends who still bleed Yankee pinstripes. To them, I might as well be Benedict Arnold, Neville Chamberlain or the one who got Jesus nailed to a cross. We are talking serious issues here.



So, for all those who have asked me, “How the hell do you root for the Red Sox now?”, I will share my reasons as simply as possible, since I know Yankee fans can be a little bit slow when it comes to logic and reasoning (it’s because they listen to yahoo Yankee announcer John Sterling, the worst broadcaster in history).

But first, a little background: when I moved to the Bronx in 1976 from San Juan, I was already a huge baseball fan. The Pirates were my team…. for obvious reasons. Then my uncle took me to see Tom Seaver at Shea and I was hooked on NY baseball. I lived about 40 blocks from Yankee Stadium, down the Grand Concourse and of course, as a foolish and impressionable little boy, I became a Yankee fan.

It wasn’t hard: Phil Rizzuto, Willie Randolph, Craig Nettles, Ron Guidry, Goose Gossage, and yes, of course: REG-GIE., REG-GIE, REG-GIE! I was at the 1977 World Series game where Jackson hit the three homers against the Dodgers to win the title for the Bombers. I met Dimaggio and Mantle. I also watched a game once from Steinbrenner’s luxury suite. Then Don Mattingly came along, and I wanted to bat left-handed.

Fast forward to 1986. Freshman year, Harvard. Mets-Red Sox. I had always thought that Yankee fans were pretty loyal, but when I caught the Bill Buckner game with my roommates and when one of them threw their TV out the window into Harvard Yard after the Sox blew the Series, I was intrigued. Still a Yankee fan, but intrigued.

1988. I entered Fenway Park for the first time. Mind you, having gone to games in Yankee Stadium and at Shea, I had no idea that a heavenly place such as Fenway even existed. 10 beers later (I had a GREAT Fake ID from Alaska!), I was hooked. But I still rooted for the Yankees.

Then Mattingly retired in 1993 (or was it 1994, when the Rangers won the FREAKIN STANLEY CUP). At the same time some Mexican kid with a funny name started playing for the Red Sox. By then, I was paying for about 10 games at Fenway, at a time when you could still walk up to a ticket booth and buy bleacher seats for $10. Nomar Garciaparra was everything I loved in a baseball player: play hard and ask questions later. Soon, NOMAH became my mantra.

Enter a little Dominican pitcher named Pedro Martínez and all of a sudden, Fenway felt like Santo Domingo whenever he pitched. Meanwhile, the Yankees started feeling like Microsoft to me. Too rich. Too good. Too arrogant. Yes, I started fallen for the scorned lover.

2004. The year it became cool to say PAPI in Boston. Sure, Ortiz was on the juice, but for 48 hours in Boston when the Sox were down 3-0 to the Yankees (btw, AROD pickup annoyed the crap out of me), life in Boston was never better. People said hi on the train. Strangers held doors open for others. All because of the BIG PAPI.

Seeing my father-in-law shout for joy when the Sox won their first title since 1918 sealed it for me. Add another 2007 title and a ballpark that is about as good as it will ever be, and you have perfection.

Finally, both my kids are huge Sox fans. As a Papi, I know feel I need to steer them right.

So call me the Bronx Judas. I freakin love it. And by the way, Beckett pitches a two-hitter tonight.

Boston, you know I love you madly.

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Disclosure: when I was a contributing reporter for The Boston Globe sports pages in 1989, I had the pleasure of meeting my writing idol, the amazingly talented Leigh Montville. Not only was Montville the most original sports columnist I have ever read, he was also incredibly nice to a 19-year-old reporter from San Juan and the Bronx.

I have followed Montville’s career for the past 22 years, from his stint at Sports Illustrated to his current calling as a sports biographist. To this day, his book Ted Williams: The Biography of an American Hero, is one of the BEST biographies ever written.

This year Montville returns with Evel: The High-Flying Life of Evel Knievel: American Showman, Daredevil, and Legend.

For an boy growing up in Nixon’s America, THIS BOOK IS A MUST READ. For several years in the 1970s, Knievel defined what a rebel was all about: with his daredevil appearances on ABC’s Wide World of Sports, his bravado, and more importantly, the coolest toy ever.

The BEST TOY EVER!!!!

Here is an excerpt from the book, which describes the time Knievel wanted to jump Snake River:

The man of the moment made the moment a family affair. If this was going to be his last day on earth, then he would go out looking like a church deacon, Linda and the three kids would be there. His mother would be there from Reno. His father had been there all week. (“Bob always had to have a challenge,” his dad said at a press conference, sounding a bit like Ward Cleaver. “I tried to discourage him for years for fear of injury.”) His eighty-one-year-old grandmother, Emma, would be there. His half-sisters would be there from both sides of the family tree. His cousin, Father Jerry Sullivan, a Catholic priest from Carroll College in Helena, Montana, would give the benediction before liftoff.

His lawyers, accountants, bartenders, friends, and fellow reprobates from long ago had appeared already at the site. Bus trips had gone down from Butte. There had been a mass migration from the city, people driving the 364 miles in five, six, seven hours, depending on speed. The Butte High band had gone down to play the National Anthem. Everyone had assembled, former promoters, fans, everyone …Ray Gunn, his first assistant from Moses Lake in the early days, had returned for the show, friends again, signed up now to watch the jump from a helicopter and carry a bottle of Wild Turkey to the other side for an instant celebration.

The day would be part wake, part wedding reception, an all-time Humpty Dumpty experience. The broken pieces of Robert Craig Knievel’s life would be put together for this one time as they never had been put together, not once, in all of his years.

He would fly from Butte in the Lear in the morning with his family. Watcha would be at the controls and would buzz the crowd at the canyon, a dramatic touch. Watcha and everybody else would switch to a helicopter at the Twin Falls City- County Airport, arrive at the site to great applause, and the man of the moment would put on the flight suit in his trailer, and the show would begin.

Unless, of course, he canceled the show.

“I have two demands that if you don’t meet I’ll cancel the show,” Knievel said in an early morning phone call to Bob Arum from Butte.

Arum prepared for the worst.

“First,” Knievel said, “I want to have all the press meet my helicopter when it lands. I want to make a statement.”

Arum said that would be impossible. Moving the entire press corps through the crowd could start a riot. (Another riot.) What he could do was bring Knievel to the press tent. That was possible. Knievel could make his statement that way. Same result.

At a time when America battled with an unpopular war, a bad economy, and loss of prestige in the world (sound familiar?), Knievel was DA MAN, the American who said fuck it to the rest of the world. This little Puerto Rican Italian boy loved every minute of it, and for the Tony Hawks and Shawn Whites of the world, without Knievel, the X Games would be just a pipe dream.

So, congratulations to Montville. You had me in 1986 when I started reading you religiously in Boston. And your grip on my mind is still tight.

As for Knievel, I leave you with this video gem:

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Twitter. It is officially the great flattener.

In a response to a tweet where we questioned Baltimore Raven Donté Stallworth’s tweet that the National Football League Players Association (NFLPA) will need some time before passing judgment on a new collective bargaining agreement that would effectively end the NFL’s lockout and ensure a 2011-2012 season, Stallworth claimed that we were just falling for the owners’ “propaganda.”

Here is the original tweet sent to him:

Ok, even though we can’t type, within a few minutes, Stallworth posted this to us and our friend @JaimieField:

Ok, first of all, thank you, Donté, for ACTUALLY RESPONDING TO US ON TWITTER. We will give you that.

As for the fact that me and Jaimie are just blind propaganda followers of the NFL owners, we are going to pass on that one.

The fact is the the owners won the PR battle on this one. They went on the attack quickly by announcing that a deal was made (smart move, by the way) and the NFLPA is now backtracking and a bit confused. Your player egos are a bit bruised, and we have no sympathy for it.

This is the problem with the court of public opinion here. THE FANS DON’T CARE ABOUT THE PLAYERS’ INDECISION. THEY WANT FOOTBALL. AND THEY WANT IT NOW.

At a time when people are losing their jobs, having problems paying their mortgage, and trying to stretch their budgets, football gives people comfort and hope.

Instead of sympathizing with your fans — the people who pay the tickets, but the jerseys, buy the concessions, play the fantasy games, and in essence, GIVE NFL PLAYERS THE PRIVILEGE TO PLAY FOR MILLIONS AND MILLIONS — the NFLPA and the player reps like you are trying to equate this labor struggle with any other labor struggle.

Sorry, we aren’t buying it.

You guys are talking about sharing billions and billions of dollars, so you can live in your nicer homes, drive your nicer cars, and live a nicer lifestyle than, say, 99% of the US population.

Charges of “propaganda” won’t fly, Donte. Sorry.

Just say yes and let’s get ready for some football!!!!

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SIGN THE PETITION TO HAVE MLB ALL-STARS SEND A MESSAGE ABOUT ARIZONA!!!!

Arizona has literally become the police state for Latino Americans in the United States and the vast majority of undocumented individuals who struggle each day to achieve the American dream.

With the All-Star Game being played this year in Phoenix, we are urging the Major League Baseball Players Association to send a visual and powerful message to show their opposition to SB1070, an anti-immigrant, anti-Latino law that is dividing Arizona and this country.

Latinos make up for 27% of all the players in MLB today. These players predominantly come from places such as the Dominican Republic, Venezuela, Mexico, and Central America—the very same places where others risk their lives to achieve their dreams in the United States.

SIGN THE PETITION TO HAVE MLB ALL-STARS SEND A MESSAGE ABOUT ARIZONA!!!!

MLB Latino ballplayers are blessed: not only do they play a boy’s game and make millions, they are also not threatened by laws such as SB1070. Or are they? It’s time to TAKE A STAND AND SEND ARIZONA A MESSAGE. Follow the legacy of Jackie Robinson and Roberto Clemente. Stop injustice!

SIGN THE PETITION TO HAVE MLB ALL-STARS SEND A MESSAGE ABOUT ARIZONA!!!!

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