What the Hell Was ESPN Thinking?

There’s a lot of brouhaha at the moment about ESPN’s coverage of yesterday’s Sugar Bowl game in New Orleans, or rather of the pre-game.  The game was postponed for a day in the wake of the horrific events of early New Year’s morning only a few blocks from the Superdome, where the game was played.

So why is the photo for this piece of a baseball game?  Allow me to explain.  Curmie has been a fan of the New York Mets since 1962, the year of the team’s inception.  I can tell you that the biggest home run in Mets history had nothing to do with their World Series championship years of 1969 or 1986.  It was Mike Piazza’s two-run, come-from-behind, homer in the bottom of the 8th inning in Shea Stadium on September 21, 2001. 

It was the game-winning hit and it came against the best team in the division, the arch-rival Atlanta Braves.  Vastly more importantly, it was during the first major league game to be played in New York after the attacks of 9/11.  And, for the first time in a week and a half, the locals had something to be happy about.  That night, anyone who wasn’t a Braves fan per se (and probably a fair number who were) needed that home run.  Not just Mets fans.  Not just New Yorkers.  Americans.

We’d been told the everything was going to be OK, but we needed more.  David Letterman going back on the air helped, but everything was still somber.  The Bush jokes that would cement the resolve—you don’t joke about the President if your country is in crisis—were to come later.  But first, there was Mike Piazza.  Sometimes, sports matter.

In the winter of 1980, Curmie lived in a small town in rural Kentucky.  He remembers watching the “Miracle on Ice” Olympic hockey game on the TV.  After the incredible upset of the powerhouse Soviet team by a bunch of American college kids, after the most famous line of Al Michaels’s career—“Do you believe in miracles?  Yes!”—there was a lot of noise outside, loud enough to be not merely audible but intrusive in Curmie’s second-floor apartment.

Outside, there was a string of cars with horns blaring; their windows were down (even in Kentucky it can get a little nippy in February), with a bunch of mostly teenagers leaning out and chanting “USA!  USA! USA!”  I’m willing to bet that Curmie was one of fewer than a dozen people in the entire town who’d ever seen a hockey game live, but here were these kids who didn’t know a poke check from a blue line getting excited about the Olympic semi-final.

In the midst of the Iranian hostage situation, with the country only showing the slightest signs of emerging from the energy crisis (is it any wonder the incumbent President was routed in the election a few months later?), we—again, all of us—needed something to grab ahold of, something to suggest that we’d weather the storm.

There have, of course, been other moments that transcended sports: Jesse Owens dominating at the Berlin Olympics in 1936, Joe Louis knocking out Max Schmeling in the first round, Billy Miles appearing from nowhere to win the 10,000m in the Tokyo Olympics, we might even add Spiff Sedrick’s improbable sprint to glory in the women’s rugby 7s in this year’s Olympics.

But this year’s Sugar Bowl was most like that baseball game in September of 2001: what made it special wasn’t who won, or what political statement could be wrangled out of the victory, but the mere fact that the game went on was a sign of determination and perhaps a little bit of defiance.  If you’re a Georgia fan, you’re disappointed that your team lost, but you were reminded before kickoff that there are more important things than football games. 

Well, you were reminded of that fact if you were at the game in person.  You’d have less of that perspective if you… you know… watched on TV.  ESPN, which had exclusive broadcasting rights, cut away from the moment of silence, from the Star-Spangled Banner, and by extension from the “USA!  USA!  USA!” chants at the end of the anthem.  Needless to say, a lot of folks on the political right attributed the obviously intentional omission to anti-American “wokeness.”  (Here’s one example.) Whether the decision was in fact a product of political orientation or garden-variety incompetence may be up for discussion, but this has to rank among the biggest blunders the network has ever committed… yes, even worse than hiring Bill Walton, and that’s saying rather a lot.

Please remember, Gentle Reader, that this is Curmie saying this: the guy who decried the “unrelenting jingoism” of NBC’s Olympic coverage in 2012, and the “ultra-nationalistic bleatings of Peyton Manning” at this year’s opening ceremonies.  Curmie is no fan of pretending that “nationalism” and “patriotism” are synonyms.

Except.

The attack in New Orleans was a body blow to the American psyche.  It didn’t knock us out, but it staggered us for a moment.  (Curmie mentioned last time out that there was a “what if” scenario for him personally on this one.)  There’s a difference between moving forward despite what happened the previous morning and pretending that those events hadn’t occurred.

We, as a nation, need to proceed with as close to a normal routine as is possible.  That’s obviously impossible for those most directly affected, but I was pleased to see that our favorite New Orleans restaurant re-opened last night after closing for New Year’s Day.  And the game went on: with heightened security, but it went on.

Everyone—players, coaches, officials, television crews, concessionaires, fans—who showed up for the game a day after it was scheduled to be played had to have been at least a little apprehensive.  But there they were.  They got a moment to ponder the essential truth that someone who cheers for the other team isn’t the enemy: assholes who intentionally plow into pedestrians are.  Television viewers didn’t get that moment.  And whereas Curmie was unimpressed with the rendering of the national anthem, on this particular occasion he’d have liked to have seen it, especially given the image you see here of New Orleans mayor LaToya Cantrell.

The crowd’s chanting “USA!  USA!  USA!” at the end was unscripted, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t have been anticipated.  ESPN sideline reporter Laura Rutledge was widely and appropriately praised for her reporting of events in New Orleans from the initial attack all the way through the game.  She could have told the bosses what to expect, but perhaps she was fooled into thinking there was a decision-maker with more savvy than a dead flounder.

The chant may have been trite, it may have been was certainly eminently predictable, but it was above all else a communal monodigital salute to those who would attack us.  Ultimately, we’re family.  We can disagree, loudly and stridently, about everything from politics to what team to cheer for, but if you come at any of us just for being us, you’ll have to deal with all of us.  We are bloodied but unbowed.  We are legion.  Messing with us is contra-indicated.

(BTW, don't ask why that one paragraph is formatted differently than all the others.  Blogspot is inscrutable.)

The Great Story of Rich Strike's Win... Which ESPN Can't Be Bothered to Cover

Let us take as given that there are some serious problems with horseracing: unscrupulous owners and trainers, doping, horses bred for speed at the expense of overall health, all that.  And it is certainly a sport for rich people.  All those great stories about a group of friends kicking in a few thousand bucks (pounds, Euro, etc.) apiece to buy a racehorse that subsequently wins The Big Race against colts that sold at auction for millions—these are heart-warming tales, but they capture our collective imagination precisely because they’re so rare.

Of course, it would be difficult to name a sport that isn’t dominated by the obscenely rich.  With the occasional exception of a team like the publicly-owned Green Bay Packers, virtually all sports teams are owned by individuals whose net worth is three or four zeroes more than yours or mine. 

And, in this country, one of the premiere sporting events of the year is the Kentucky Derby.  Few people care about gymnastics, swimming, or figure skating on an ongoing basis, but Olympics competitions in those sports attract a lot of viewers.  Similarly, the nation’s indifference to horseracing in general disappears, briefly, on the first Saturday in May.  Nearly 150,000 fans showed up at Churchill Downs in Louisville; television viewership numbers haven’t been released as of this writing, but predictions were in the range of 15 million.  That’s a lot of folks.  And, all told, a record $168.8 million was bet on this race alone.

Side note: the Kentucky Derby is also special for completely other reasons to Curmie and Beloved Spouse.  Watching the 1981 Derby from my apartment on the other side of Kentucky was sort of our first date.  We “bet” on Tap Shoes.  He… uh… did not prosper.  On the other hand, a year later, on the second Saturday in May, we were married.

This year, there were lots of potential stories.  How would the horses initially trained by the suspended Bob Baffert fare?  Would this be the year a Japanese horse won the roses?  Would jockey John Velasquez win his fourth Derby?  Or would Mike Smith, at 56, become the oldest ever to win, aboard a horse who’d only run in two previous races (winning them both, including the Santa Anita Derby)?  Or would Steve Asmussen, the winningest trainer in the country, finally get a Derby win after 23 losses?  And do I go with the morning line favorite or the post-time favorite?

The answers to the above: not very well, no, no, no, no, and neither.

Sonny Leon guides Rich Strike to victory

There are Disney movies that don’t strain credulity as much as what actually occurred.  The aptly-named Rich Strike did indeed strike it rich yesterday.  This was a horse that didn’t qualify for the Derby on points, and was added to the field at literally the last minute Friday morning when legendary trainer D. Wayne Lucas pulled Ethereal Road, allowing Rich Strike to become the twentieth and last entry into the field.  A former claimer, Rich Strike was sold by the famous Calumet farms for $30,000.  He just won $1.86 million.  Someone at Calumet is muttering a big “Oops” about now.

The horse was listed, probably optimistically, at 80:1.  The odds were even that low because there wasn’t a really clear “super-horse” favorite.  But a late entry without speed racing from the far outside post?  A trainer (Eric Reed) and jockey (Sonny Leon) who had precisely one Grade 1 win and no Kentucky Derby experience between them?  Yeah, 80:1 was probably wishful thinking.

At the half-mile pole, Rich Strike was well to the back of the pack, in 18th place, perhaps 10 lengths off the lead.  Even coming into the home stretch, he was in 13th place, surrounded by other horses, with no apparent chance of breaking through, no matter how fast he might have been capable of running.  Except that he did.  Leon, who had never won a Grade 1 race, gave as masterful a ride as Curmie has ever seen (seriously: check this out)—finding the gaps and shooting his horse through them.  That young man’s phone IS. GOING. TO. BLOW. UP.

By the time they’re into the final furlong, Rich Strike is up to fifth and on the rail.  Leon guides him outside to pass a fading horse, then straightens him out and charges towards the wire.  The announcer continues to talk about the battle between morning line favorite Zandon and post-time favorite Epicenter: “Coming down to the wire, Epicenter and Zandon, these two, stride for stride!”  He doesn’t even mention Rich Strike until he’s already caught the favorites at the 1/16 pole.  Needless to say, that merited an excited “oh, my goodness!”. And it was a clear win—no photo finishes, noses, or necks.  Officially, it was ¾ of a length.  Curmie would have said a full length, but he’s not going to quibble.

On the way to the winner’s circle, one of Rich Strike’s connections is screaming “we shocked the world.”  Indeed, you did, sir.

This has to be one of the most memorable horseraces in history.  Was there luck involved?  Boatloads.  The scratch of Ethereal Road just soon enough to allow another entrant into the field.  And taking nothing away from Leon’s utterly brilliant ride, sometimes the holes just never appear the way they did yesterday.  But this plucky colt, his modest Kentucky-based trainer, and a jockey who rode the race of his life—they deserved the win, however much Steve Asmussen wants to pout. Train your horse better next time, Stevie.

This story has got everything: luck, huge underdogs across the board, an exciting come-from-behind finish… you name it.  So what sports reporter wouldn’t be all over this?  The answer to that question is apparently “anyone who works for ESPN.”    

Seriously.  It’s over 18 hours after the conclusion of the race, and what’s on ESPN’s webpage?  Gasping coverage of game threes of NBA conference semifinals, a couple of reports on soccer leagues in foreign countries, NCAA women’s softball scores, even a story on not-even-close-to-being-a-sport WWE.  The biggest horseracing story, at least in this country, in a decade or more: not a freaking word.

Now, Curmie could understand if ESPN decided that horseracing isn’t really a sport (WWE is?), or if the downside of the sport makes it ethically unpalatable (unlike, for example, the clear linkage of football to chronic traumatic encephalopathy).  But pre-race coverage—which horse to bet on, mostly—is still up.

ESPN has long been known for insufferable announcers.  As a college basketball fan, Curmie will definitely turn off the sound if not the game itself if Dick Vitale or Bill Walton are within hailing distance of a microphone.  Even Jay Bilas—who, unlike the two just mentioned, actually analyzes the proceedings instead of spouting idiocies and catch phrases they think are cute—allows himself to be an accomplice in ESPN’s belief that people tune in to see and hear “their people” instead of, you know, the game.  Curmie can but hope it’s against his will.

And if the front-line announcers are this bad, imagine what the guys covering the game between the University of Southern North Dakota at Hoople and Pigeon Puke Ag and Tech are like.  But this is all, of course, a matter of personal opinion.  Somewhere, one supposes, there’s someone who doesn’t work for ESPN who thinks Bill Walton adds to fans’ enjoyment.

Less forgivable was last fall’s airing on their main channel of what purported to be a high school football game between IMG Academy (a “school” devoted almost exclusively to athletics) and “Bishop Sycamore” (a school that doesn’t even exist).  Curmie wrote about this incident last September, and the situation kept getting weirder and more sinister after that.  ESPN was unquestionably complicit, but one could argue that they were simply too fucking lazy to exercise even cursory oversight of their product.  And what they did wasn’t criminal, right?  I mean, yes, they abetted criminality, but they were too incompetent to know any better, so that’s OK, then.

But now we pass from sloth and logistical ineptitude into the range of YOU CAN’T CLAIM TO COVER SPORTS IN THE US IF YOU DON’T HAVE AT LEAST 500 WORDS UP WITHIN A HALF AN HOUR territory.  There is literally no excuse for an omission this egregious.  But just as ESPN thinks they’re more important than the game, they also think it isn’t really worth covering if they weren’t the ones to do the live coverage.  They are as arrogant as they are incompetent, and that’s saying rather a lot.

Correction: It appears that ESPN did indeed post a story.  It didn’t appear on their homepage, and it was not the featured story even on the horse racing page, which you have to search for (there is, however, a direct link to the NBA’s G-League, even though a). they're a minor league, and b), their season has been over for weeks): ESPN pundits’ predictions about the race occupied the featured position until days after the race was over.  But there was a story; the link was hard to find (Curmie specifically looked, twice), but it appears it was there.  With this minor correction, Curmie’s indignation stands.

High School Follies: First Round of the Season

Curmie needs to write faster, because even if we’re talking about just high schools, it’s hard to keep up.  Anyway, here we go.  Note: a couple of more egregious cases aren’t included here; they’ll be treated separately… soon, I hope.

Not All Stupid Dress Codes Are about Girls.

The hair that signals the end of civilization.

Curmie has railed against school dress codes for years.  Most of the time, the stupid rules are aimed at girls, lest they be (gasp!) distracting to boys.  So: no visible shoulders, cleavage (or even collarbones), thighs…   Sometimes there’s a more general stupidity: no hair dye, no pro sports paraphernalia, no untucked shirts, that sort of stuff.  But there’s another option.  Years ago, the son of one of Curmie’s colleagues wanted to wear an earring.  Of course, the local school district would not countenance such an outrage; the lad wasn’t a girl, after all.  There was a battle at the school board level, and Curmie is pleased to report that the good guys won this one.

Ah, but that was long ago, even if not far away.  About three and a half hours from Curmie, there’s a place called Sanger, whose educational establishment has adopted one of the more repressive dress and grooming codes Curmie has seen.  In addition to the usual sexist injunctions against cleavage, spaghetti straps, skirts (or even shorts) shorter than fingertip length, yoga pants without a long blouse over the top, etc., for girls, there’s also all manner of paranoia directed at boys who aren’t short-haired and clean-shaven.

Curmie is pretty sure the last time he would have met all of Sanger’s criteria was when he had to shave and get a haircut for an acting role… in 1975.  Of course, Curmie would be okay at Sanger High now, even though he has a goatee and his hair is several inches too long, because it’s only students who are expected to “project a positive image for the student, school, and District.”  Staff aren’t expected to comply, presumably because they have a choice whether to be at that particular school, and would offer a monodigital salute on their way out the door if expected to comply with the silliness of the regulations.

Anyway, there’s a Change.org petition started by the mother of a boy who just likes to wear his hair long… and by “long,” I mean shorter than Curmie’s has been in several years.  I suppose it’s good news in a perverse sort of way that it’s not just girls running afoul of the defenders of 1950s styles (although Sanger has a history of punishing them, too, as evidenced by this Change.org petition from two years ago).

Of course, it’s also more than a little ironic (or hypocritical) that one strongly suspects that a good many members of the Board of Education, especially if they’re Curmie’s age or thereabouts, wore things in their high school days that they’d condemn now, and they’d have us believe that they turned out all right.  On second thought, maybe the standards really are appropriate, because those BoE folks are a taco short of the #4 special.

You’re Pledging Allegiance to WHAT?

In California (that part almost goes without saying), a teacher named Kristin Pitzen had her students pledge allegiance to a Pride flag.  Well, sort of.

Kristin Pitzen

According to her own social media post, Pitzen took down the American flag in her classroom during COVID (as if we aren’t still “during COVID”) because “it made [her] uncomfortable,” packed it away and hasn’t found it yet.  (It’s unclear how hard she looked.)  She had already instituted a policy whereby students could stand or not, say the words to the pledge or not, etc.

But when one student in her 3^rd period English (or ESL?) class questioned how they could face a flag that wasn’t there, Pitzen giggled (or at least she does in the re-telling) and pointed to a Pride flag.  In a previous post, she had mockingly stated “I pledge allegiance to the queers.”

Okay.  Three stipulations up front.

• There is nothing wrong with celebrating Pride Month, or with efforts to symbolize inclusiveness of virtually any variety.
• 2.  It’s easy to lose things.  Curmie has lost two very important documents somewhere in his office in the last couple of weeks.  You know: I put them somewhere “safe.”
• 3.  The Pledge of Allegiance has always been problematic.  I don’t owe allegiance to a flag, which is at most a symbol.  I can muster respect.  Allegiance?  No.  “Under God” is a troublesome phrase for a secular country, especially if we’re expected to swear obeisance.  And, of course, reciting the pledge starts as an exercise in rote memorization: Curmie “knew” the pledge long before understanding what is meant by “allegiance,” “republic,” “for which it stands,” or “indivisible.”  

Few people think about the words they’re saying, because they’ve been trained not to.  And the idea of demanding such a declaration runs counter to all the best things about this country. 

All that said… What the Serious F*ck?  This isn’t cute or funny or whatever the hell Ms. Pitzen thinks it is.  It’s just… well, stupid.

They Played WHO???

This one starts weird and keeps getting weirder.  The last weekend in August, ESPN aired, on its main channel (!), a high school football game between IMG Academy and Bishop Sycamore. 

The score isn't the only ugly thing here.

Exactly how Bishop Sycamore, a school no one has heard of (and for good reason: see below) was deemed worthy of national coverage for a game against a sports powerhouse is unclear, although clearly officials at BS (appropriate initials) lied, and neither ESPN nor Paragon Marketing, which scheduled the event, could be bothered to do a little basic fact-checking.

Um… if there’s no school at the address listed and no curriculum listed on the website, that might be a clue.  Of course, that would take… hell… maybe 15 seconds to check.  We can’t expect people engaged in scheduling events on a major television network to do that kind of intensive research, now can we?

But the story is just getting started.  Bishop Sycamore had played another game two nights earlier, and a lot of its athletes play both offense and defense, creating a level of fatigue that was potentially dangerous, even if the two teams were otherwise evenly matched, which, of course, they weren’t.  And a number of them had apparently already suited up for junior college games.  And there is considerable debate as to whether Bishop Sycamore is actually a school at all.

And it gets weirder.  A former Assistant Director of Officiating and Sport Management at the Ohio High School Athletics Association went public with an accusation that the whole business was a “scam.”  Bishop Sycamore is not recognized by the Ohio Department of Education for the 2021-22 academic year, although they were last year as a “non-chartered, non-tax supported school.”  And the new football coach proclaimed that Bishop Sycamore is “not a school,” but rather a “post-grad football academy.”  Not a very good one, apparently.

The problem, you see, was “a mistake on paperwork.”  Catchy euphemism for shameless mendacity, don’t you think?  Oh, and they allegedly passed over $3500 in bad checks to the hotel where they stayed the weekend of the IMG game.  Indeed, there’s a laundry list of offenses linked to the former coach (the one who coached the IMG game), and a similar list of promises to prospective… erm… players which no one had either the ability or the intention to keep.  Rather, they preyed on mediocre recent grads who weren’t offered D-1 scholarships, probably for very good reason.

Of course, IMG is also pretty much a scam, too, but that’s a rant for another day.  And, of course, Paragon Marketing richly deserves to be out of business.  And ESPN owes literally every sports fan a profound apology.  (Well, they do for a lot of reasons, but this one has got to be at the top of the list.)

Sigh.

They cancelled WHAT?

This event never happened.

Students at Eastlake High School in Sammamish, WA, wanted to recognize the anniversary of 9/11 with a themed event with student attending the football game wearing red, white, and blue clothing.  Okay, maybe it’s a little on the faux Patriotic (capital letter fully intentional) side, coming as it does from students who weren’t even born at the time of the event being commemorated.  What it isn’t, is offensive.  Not in actuality, not in potentia.

But don’t tell that to the school’s administrators, or their “leadership teachers,” whatever the hell that term means. Actually, do tell them, because they’re individually and collectively too stupid to understand that.  What passes for a brain trust at Eastlake High decided, quoting both principal Chris Bede and assistant principal Darcie Breynaert (how convenient that they had, word for word, the same inane response to students’ and parents’ complaints), “I know tomorrow is 9/11 and understand the sacrifice and values our flag represents, but I think they just did not want to unintentionally cause offense to some who see it differently.”

Who, exactly, is likely to take offense at commemorating a significant event in recent American history?  What is even potentially offensive about wearing red, white, and blue?  Does the apparent reference to the football opponent being a majority-minority school have anything to do with the decision?  If so, are they presuming that black and Latinx students are too dim-witted to know that it’s the weekend of the 20^th anniversary of 9/11?  Are they saying that black and Latinx students aren’t really Americans?  Or how, exactly, does all this work?

The saga goes on and on, with EHS officials digging themselves into deeper holes with each announcement.  What isn’t clear is why the students didn’t simply, oh-so-coincidentally, wear whatever the hell they wanted to the game.  The only plausible explanation is that the decision to abandon the “themed” wearing of red, white, and blue was presented to the students, intentionally or otherwise, as a prohibition against sporting those colors at all, and the students, knowing what morons their administration are, might have feared punishment.

Curmie, ever the theatre historian, is reminded of the “Bottle Riot” in Dublin in 1822.  The details of the case would take too long to explain here, but the judge in resulting trial set the standards for well over another century of theatre disturbances: you can boo if you want to, and you can even go to the theatre with the express intention of booing, but if you gather your friends together with the intention of booing, that’s conspiracy.  I’d think the same concepts would be at play in terms of (gasp!) wearing patriotic colors.

Caitlyn Jenner, the ESPYs, and Narcissism

Curmie has been reading a lot of late about Caitlyn Jenner’s acceptance speech (transcript here) of the Arthur Ashe Award for Courage at the ESPYs. It was indeed a pretty impressive piece of rhetoric, highlighted by this already much-quoted sequence:

If you want to call me names, make jokes, doubt my intentions, go ahead, because the reality is I can take it. But for the thousands of kids out there who are coming to terms with being true to who they are, they shouldn’t have to take it.

That’s great stuff, and might even do some good.

It is beyond question that Jenner has shown courage throughout the transitioning process, and has given some comfort, intentionally or otherwise, for others in the trans community. Curmie is by no means an expert in such matters, but he does have a former student and a family member who have transitioned (in opposite directions, as it happens), so he isn’t quite as ignorant as he was even five years ago.

Here’s Arthur Ashe, because

Curmie is tired of seeing photos of Caitlyn Jenner.

Does Ms. Jenner “deserve” the Arthur Ashe Award? Is her particular brand of courage more significant than that of dozens of other athletes, past and present, in facing down disease, political oppression, or any of a host of –isms and –phobias that repress the human spirit? 

Curmie doubts it, and has long suspected that the award is more about calling attention to the ESPYs (especially this year, when the program migrated from ESPN cable to the parent company, ABC) than to honoring the recipient. And controversy does build ratings, after all. Sports columnists from Bob Costas to Frank Deford have raised eyebrows at the selection. The name of Lauren Hill, who played two basketball games for Division III Mount St. Joseph before succumbing to inoperable brain cancer—oh, and by the way, raised over $1.5 million for cancer research in the process—was one name floated about for the honor. (Hill did posthumously receive “Best Moment” recognition, a sort of Miss Congeniality award, at the ESPYs.)

Moreover, there’s something a little unsettling about propping up Jenner as a role model for a transition that took place only decades after she presumably understood her real identity. Please forgive Curmie a little skepticism at the notion that the tribulations associated with these changes aren’t eased a little by worldwide fame and a fortune probably north of $100 million. That’s a little different situation from Joe at the carwash who wants to come out as Jo.

Still, in a world in which transgender people are disproportionately victims of violence, and disproportionately prone to suicide, there is good to be had from the publicity surrounding Jenner’s selection. If even a handful of those kids struggling with their identity think they might have an advocate, good. And if even a handful of judgmental people pause and take a single step towards acceptance of and respect for those other than themselves, that’s good, too.

Except…

There were those who argued vehemently that Jenner should have been eliminated from consideration based on that fatal traffic accident in February. As the investigation continues, a few things have become clear. First, the crash was unquestionably his (he was still Bruce, then) fault. Second, there seems to be no evidence that Jenner was chemically impaired, speeding, or talking or texting (any of which might lead to a felony charge under the circumstances). Rather, police are saying he was simply driving ”HUA” (head up ass). Third, Jenner’s celebrity status undeniably led to a kid gloves approach by local authorities, not to mention the press. “Bruce Jenner Severely Traumatized After Fatal Car Crash” read one headline. Curmie suspects that Kim Howe, who died as a result of Jenner’s negligence, might be unimpressed at his (now, her) suffering. Fourth, two lawsuits are currently pending against Jenner, at least one of which asserts that she still refuses to accept responsibility for the wreck. Here’s Jessica Steindorff, the driver of the Prius involved in the accident:

I find it difficult to understand how the culture we live in can honor a person who is responsible for taking a life and injuring several others with both an award and a reality show. For an individual who is such a positive role model in many aspects of her life, Caitlyn has failed to do the right thing and take responsibility for her actions.

There are lots of responses here—not least of them that the notoriety that allows Jenner to get preferential treatment in some ways also attracts attention from those who want to benefit—in terms of money, publicity, whatever—on a celebrity’s vulnerability. Would Steindorff have sued you or me, Gentle Reader? Perhaps more readily. Perhaps not at all.

Moreover, people are often masses of contradiction; the good and bad angels of our beings are often both loudly heard: Thomas Jefferson and George Washington were slave-owners. That doesn’t make their place in the American pantheon any less secure; it merely reminds us of the mortal fallibility of us all. Bill Cosby made us laugh, and broke new ground for African-American entertainers; he is also a serial rapist. In Curmie’s field, Dion Boucicault was one of the most significant proponents of copyright law… and one of the most egregious plagiarists in history.

So the fact that Bruce/Caitlin Jenner had a moment’s breach of responsibility and is, perhaps under legal advice, reluctant to claim agency with respect to those actions does not present a strong case against her receiving the Arthur Ashe award. But now comes what to me is a more damning revelation, published in the UK’s Daily Mail, that the award was the product of a quid pro quo arrangement which granted the splashy April coming-out party to Diane Sawyer of ABC.

Naturally, ABC denies the linkage, and let’s just say that the Daily Mail is not the most reputable of all news sources, nor is “reports have emerged” the most compelling of sourcing. But the timing of the award announcement and the fact that NBC had previously been regarded as the frontrunner to get the big Jenner interview (largely because E! Entertainment, which will air the upcoming reality show “I Am Cait,” is an NBC affiliate) make the allegation more than a little plausible.

All of this devalues an award which already was suffering from a crisis of integrity. One needn’t be as cynical as Curmie to suspect that the Arthur Ashe award was a mere commodity to be used as a bargaining chip by a mercenary network looking to cut a deal with a narcissistic former athlete. Indeed, whereas it’s remotely possible that the award selection was on the up-and-up, Curmie would bet the ranch that this deal was as crooked as the proverbial dog’s hind leg.

So whereas Curmie is supportive of Caitlin Jenner’s independence and cognizant of the risks she took to get there, he’s not at all thrilled at the notion of honoring an attention whore. Caitlin Jenner, like Lance Armstrong before her, is philanthropic and inspirational precisely up to the point at which being so ceases to accrue to her personal benefit. There are a host of gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender role models in the world. Caitlyn Jenner does not appear to be among them.

NOTE: Curmie was about 3/4 done with this piece when his netpal Jack Marshall posted on this topic. You can read his comments here.