If you wear a press credential, Marshawn Lynch doesn’t want to talk to you. Of course, he’s technically supposed to talk to you, as many people on the internet will tell you today. It’s in his contract. He signed his contract. It’s his job. Blah blah blah.
It’s his job because Roger Goodell (a man who is a human shit stain) says it’s his job. Whatever. The day you do something because Roger Goodell tells you to is the day you’ve sacrificed your integrity and human dignity.
Today, Marshawn Lynch, faced with a half million dollar fine if he didn’t appear at a media circus, appeared at a media circus and treated it with all the contempt it deserved. He did the absolute minimum required of him, and in the process showed up a bunch of sanctimonious press people who will now write many hot takes and oh-so-earnest think pieces on what Marshawn Lynch owes them and the People of America.
Here’s my hot take, sanctimonious press people (Saps, for short): “I’m here so I don’t get fined.”
I know why you don’t like him, Saps. He’s a living demonstration of how irrelevant you really are. You know this is all a farce, this nonsensical dance you do with sports figures. They stand up in front of a wall of logos and answer your utterly unoriginal questions in utterly unoriginal ways, and you solemnly record and regurgitate their empty platitudes as if you’re actually doing something of value.
You’re not. You’re are, however, saps. And parasites.
Not a good look on anyone, but mostly we pretend not to notice.
Now, it’s a fair statement that Marshawn Lynch isn’t doing anything of value either—not in the big scheme of things. He runs with a ball in his hands under an arbitrary set of conditions at certain scheduled times throughout the year. Within the constraints of the game he plays, he’s good at running with a ball in his hands, and people find that entertaining, so we throw billions of dollars at this game. A tiny fraction of those dollars end up in Marshawn’s bank account, and because even a fraction is a lot of money, a lot of people have the impression that he owes them something. They think he owes them not just the running in the game, but a piece of himself outside the game. Damn you, Marshawn, they seem to be shouting, you owe us those empty platitudes and regurgitated talking points!
To hell with that.
But, he signed a contract!
And he showed up, and he showed you up, Saps.
Now, in all likelihood, Roger Goodell, Human Shitstain, will arbitrarily decide to fine Marshawn anyway, because that’s the kind of dick he is. And in all likelihood, a bunch of sanctimonious press people will nod their heads and talk about what a big poopy-pants Marshawn is because he wants to play the game he’s good at, not their farcical press game. It’s about the integrity of the game, some of them will say. It’s about meeting your obligations.
It’s about the Shield, NFL apologists in particular will bleat.
This is what the Shield is about:
- Hiding the effects of concussions for decades from the athletes.
- Ignoring the abuse of painkillers by league trainers and doctors for decades until finally the DEA got involved.
- Ignoring hundreds if not thousands of cases of domestic abuse until a situation so out of hand it couldn’t be ignored forced the league to finally pretend like it gave a shit.
- Draconian punishments for players caught using recreational drugs while barely slapping the wrist of an owner caught with distribution quantities of drugs.
- Using extortion tactics to extract millions of dollars from cities for stadiums, something which has been shown over and over again to be nothing more than an economic boondoggle for everyone involved except the NFL itself.
- And more.
So spare me your hand-wringing over Marshawn Lynch treating media day as the circus it is. He runs the ball, and runs it well. If that’s not good enough for you, too bad.