How Technology Is Pushing Celebrities Into An Era of Transition

 

Here’s a reminder and my column links, then I’m gonna launch into a theory I have.  Should be fun today:

Reminder:

If you see or hear any extreme quotes (great/awful/exciting/dull), feel free to fire them over in the comment section or to my email or via carrier pigeon or whatever.  I’ll try to keep our Best and Worst Quote-Giver Standings in the right sidebar relatively well updated.  BizNasty is starting the slow, inevitable pull-away (thanks to last nights quote about Chris Thorburn: “He can smoke a cigar in the shower his nose is so big.”  Now THAT’S good stuff.)

Columns:

Tuesday’s Puck Daddy: The vulgar world between whistles

Wednesday’s Hockey Primetime: Making the step from college to pro

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Today’s theory is an extension of Bruce Arthur’s lastest column on Brett Favre: Great American Entertainer.

Basically, Arthur’s column is a walk-through on the ‘ol gunslinger (or as columnist Jason Whitlock has started calling him, “the ‘ol dongslinger), and how he’s gone from being everything a hero quarterback should be, to some low-level narcissist who constantly provides a high-level of entertainment.

From Arthur:

In the process, he went from being the epitome of what we were told quarterbacks were supposed to be — square-jawed, durable, charming, a little reckless, heroic at times, a Marlboro man with a golden arm — to a selfish, drama-loving diva.

In the piece, Arthur mentions how this has become the age of implosion for famous sports figures.  He points to Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Tiger Woods, maybe Lance Armstrong, Michael Phelps, and now it looks like you can add Brett Favre to that list.  And just for kicks, let’s all read this awesome parenthetical paragraph he tacked on before we continue:

(By the way, between Favre’s alleged dong shots and Tiger Woods’ marriage-dissolving text messages, Derek Jeter should offer a seminar. No, really. He should rent a nice hall, and print up flyers or send out a promotional email or something, and explain to fellow sports stars how you can live in a high-profile city, have sex with almost anybody in the world, never once be caught up in scandal or public disapproval of any kind, and stay a hero. He could charge $1-million a minute.)

LIterally, he could charge one million a minute.  Tiger would attend for hours. 

After that preamble, here’s my theory:

This is a transition period for professional athletes and other stars in general, because of technology.  As a group, they will be in more public scandals in a five-to-eight-year span (of which we’re in now) than they ever were before, and ever will be after.

When our stars of today grew up, their heroes could do nearly anything within the law (and some things outside of it) and get away with it.  There were no cellphones, let alone any that also functioned as picture-and-video cameras.  There was no twitter, no facebook, no voicemails to convert to mp3 files, no sex-tape making and sharing devices, no texting, no recording tools, just…. word-of-mouth and ink, really.

If someone saw or heard a celebrity do something shady they could be talked to, or paid off, or just generally written off as a nut.  What’s that rumour you heard?  Ridiculous.  Then said star would hit a homerun or throw a touchdown and it would all go away.  Hell, it almost all goes away today if the fallen star plays well on the field after we know they did something horrible (Vick!), let alone when all the evidence they had was a few people playing ”the telephone game.”

Since those rumours stayed unproved yammerings, there was no reason to believe anything but the best about those highest on our pedestals.  Mickey Mantle and Joe DiMaggio, Joe Montana and Joe Namath, Bobby Orr and Wayne Gretzky, you name it – rumours may exist about many, but 90% of fans still believe in the purity of their idols.  And they should – innocent until proven guilty, and it’s healthy to believe in your fellow man.  Maybe a touch naive, but overall a positive thing I’d say.

Our stars of today seemed to learn from those stars of yesterday - nobody ever really got in trouble, regardless of what the whispers on the street may have been.  Caution must not have seemed important when fame reared its pretty little head.

Now it’s a whole new ball game. 

Any Olympian of years past was free to rip a bong hit three years from their next Olympic event and maintain a positive public image.  Thanks to everyone having cameras in their jeans these days, Michael Phelps is the butt of hippie pot-smoker jokes that make it seem like he’s both Cheech and Chong.  For him, I doubt that’ll change anytime soon.  It’s just to funny to pass up.

Soon, these stars won’t be so caught off guard by this new era of media and technology.  They must be seeing that things are different now.

And so, they’ll learn.

The next generation of heroes will have new handlers and a new education.  They will see how the shady dealings of today’s celebrities were not aided by technology, but rather undermined by it.  It will leads to a fork in the road, and stars will go one of two ways:

They’ll either:

(A) develop more clandestine methods, with a more airtight group than Tiger Woods (if possible), and learn from the likes of Derek Jeter  or 

(B) shape up.  You have to be Batman to be a successfully scuzzy celebrity today, and some might find it’s just not worth the effort.

It’s not Babe Ruth days anymore.

So here we are, in our chaotic little transition period.  A time where the “I can do anything I want” celebrities of today are learning that they can’t.  The ride has been fun to follow (while a little unsettling), and we’re not at the fork in the road yet.

But in the coming years, most stars will have to make the choice:  Do they want to be Batman, or respectable? 

I’ll let Arthur close us out:

(You know, not enough people are talking about how impressive it is that the oldest non-kicker in the NFL was able to master sending pictures of his junk, which is something the teenagers are reportedly doing these days. He really is like a kid out there!)

Some Hockey, Some Football, Some Weekend

 

You catch the highlights of the Flyers/Rangers game last night?  Can we kindly ask Carcillo to go play in a different league?  What an embarassment.  No better fit for that orange and black though, I guess.

He fought Avery and Gaborik, saying after the game (about the Gaborik fight): “I didn’t really expect to fight who I fought, but it worked out okay.  I don’t know who on that line would have been able to help him though.  Once he dropped his gloves, I was pretty much just licking my chops.”

He looks like some creepy Spanish explorer with that dumb mustache. 

And they call me, El bagodouche.

You know what’s crazy about watching highlight packages these days?  Last night, two huge rivals, major NHL teams going head-to-head in Madison Square Garden, Sean “Celebrity First” Avery fights El bagodouche Carcillo, and and as he’s getting off the ice, I see the back-up goalie open the gate for him.  Wait, who’s that?  It was, from small town Yorkton, Saskatchewan, a quiet, polite and funny ex-junior-teammate of mine, Matt Zaba.  It always takes a few seconds to process when you see someone you know where you don’t expect to, like when two TV shows do a crossover and suddenly Ray Romano is on King of Queens.  But that’s the way it is now.  Buddies and teammates just make ESPN cameos.  Crazy.

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I’m not sure what I liked more about this clip: How much Rafa likes it, or how much the commentator is enamoured with the whole situation (he can barely breathe he gets so giggly).  Either way, it’s a great clip. (By the way, how did one jagoff from Jersey get me to think about him everytime I use a commonplace word like “situation”.  It’s just such. a great. nickname.)

 

 

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I could poop I have such a great weekend ahead:

Tonight: Another Dexter-athon. 

There is simply no better way to watch TV than a box set, and if you stumble upon a show you like, what a treat.  I was fortunate enough to have not seen a SINGLE STAR WARS before 2009, so I got to take them all in, one at a time, over a couple weeks with Bri.  I still haven’t seen more than a show or two of Lost either.  It’s just the greatest, commercial-free, plot-following hidden pleasure a TV can provide.  So yes.  Dexter tonight.  And wine.  Muchos, muchos wine.

Saturday:  ASU/U of A college basketball

ASU is number one in the Pac-10, and is playing their crosstown rival, U of A.  Around here, you pick one horse and ride it, so after buying ASU gear to attend a football game earlier this year, I’m currently aboard a horse named Sparky (plus its twice as sweet cause the Sun Devil hand sign is, essentially, The Shocker).  My uncle/editor/mentor/business-advisor/unpaid-slave Ken got me tickets for my birthday, so Bri and i will be hitting that game up!

Sunday:  J   E   T   S   JETS JETS JETS!  …..And Vikings Saints is gonna be S -I-C-K   SICK SICK SICK! 

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Football predictions:

Saints 31, Vikings 30

This game is going to be epic. 

It makes some sense to pick the Favres Vikings.  Their pass rush should be able to put enough pressure on Brees to limit the time he needs to find a receiver, and by all logic, the Vikes deadly offense is playing a sub-par defense.  I could see the Saints stressing about Favre and forgetting Peterson can do serious damage everytime he touches the ball.  (BTW, is there a better celebration in sports than Jared Allen’s “calf roping” move?  No.  There’s not…. sorry for the grainy video)

 

 

That said, it’s amazing how quickly everyone writes off the Saints success from this season like they’re a tenth place team that got lucky a bunch of times.  It’s tough to win every night in the NFL no matter who you’re playing, but they damn near did it…. every night.  We saw the Vikings have a few horrible tackling games this year and lose – the only times we saw the Saints lose, they were depleted with injuries or mailing it in (er, sorry, resting guys for the playoffs).  They’ve got a ton of weapons, and Brees knows how to use ‘em.

The game will be high scoring, and close, but a field goal wins it after a late game push by Brees and the Saints.  And Favre retires after the game, only to un-retire before leaving New Orleans.

….sighhhhhh.  Here it comes….

Jets 17, Colts 24

The Jets are going to end the season by torturing their supporters, as per usual.  Colts will score to go up seven, but the Jets will have the ball and ample time to get downfield and tie the game up.  Sanchez will finally be put in a situation where if he doesn’t get it done, we won’t get it done.  And then he’ll throw a pick, just so everyone in the entire state of New York can question him and the Jets for the entire off season.  Ouch.

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Post houseguests/New Years/Christmas and all that, life has finally settled back into something normal.  I’m back to a fourty hour writing week, and need more work to fill that time (and money to pay those bills) - if you, or anyone you know could use some Bourne-infused text, hit me up at jtbourne@gmail.com

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That’s all folks.  Thanks for another great week, and hope your weekend is full of Jet chants and booze!

The Good Kind of Media

 

In regards to a few commentor debates in the past, the most relevant video I’ve ever seen just showed up in my facebook inbox.  This came courtesy a dear friend, Christina Aaron -- thanks Chris!

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Okay haters, the following comment is officially void: “I used to watch SNL when it had ________ on it -- back when it was good“.  It’s time to give it another chance.

Kristen Wiig might be the funniest person on the planet at this point.  She was damn near the only funny part of “Knocked Up” (as the station exec. implying Katherine Heigl she should lose weight -- without actually saying those words).  Below, she’s rocking her semi-frequent role as “prominent travel writer, Judy Grimes” from SNL’s season premiere.  Sorry you have to slog through a commercial:

 

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 As possibly the last fan of Brett Favre (despite my protests to his return), I thought I’d run the “highlight of the weekend”, possibly sponsored by Bengay:

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Just another great comeback orchestrated by Brett Brettersons

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Okay, one last vid for the day.  I’m a closet “homestarrunner.com” fan.  I realize there’s no cool way to say that, so I thought I’d just run the second (of 15) “teen girl squad” videos and let it speak for itself.  These cartoons are priceless.  If you like this, you’ll like the rest.  They just get better.

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And I’ll follow that up with a little depth.  I’ve always been a major sucker for piano.  This one, “Hometown Glory” by Adele, is currently in heavy rotato in the car.  Simply put, it’s beautiful. 

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I thought some stuff like that might make your Monday better.  Always helps me!

The Land After Time

 

I stumbled onto a massive discovery.  In trying to run some early morning errands, I had to kill some time waiting for the bank to open.  I went to the mall, only to see a sign saying that the stores weren’t open there either.  Yet people were still walking into the place.  Old people.

If we could mine the precious deposit of old people that were in the mall before it opened we could start a nursing home.  They were everywhere.  Alone, in couples, men, women, with ipods and walkmen, jogging shoes and stretchy pants.  They were using the closed mall as a big track to walk laps around.

Hundreds of them.

I took a few steps in and got caught up in the current… it all made sense:  Air conditioning, nicely sanitized tile, a food court (with a cafe that opens early to cash in on these clunkers), and it occured to me:  this is exactly the same thing I used to do when I was 12, with my friends.  We’d go public skating, move around in a big circle, be social, listen to music, and grab a hot chocolate from the concession stand. 

The ciiircle of life…….. it’s a wheeeel of fortuuuuneeee…  What a discovery.

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Green Bay Packer Nation probably owned a collective 23 rafillion Favre jerseys.  I’m not proposing that the “Favre goes WWE villain and switches teams” moment wasn’t genuine, but how much money do you think they made selling new GB Pack jerseys to slighted fans who didn’t wan’t to wear a jersey with “Arnold” on the back anymore (read: Benedict)?

And how many Rodgers jerseys have they sold?  This guy could be the best QB in the league this year.  How well timed was his rise to prominence right when Favre basically tore down the un-built statues of himself in Green Bay?

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Does anybody else think that the mom and kid in the AT&T rollover minutes commercials have a priceless chemistry? (Can’t believe I’m about to run an AT&T commercial after they grinded me for $43.57 as a broke freshman in college, but it really does make me laugh)

 

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But if there’s a set of commercials you have to watch, it’s ESPN’s “this is SportsCenter” commercials.  Spend some time on YouTube.  I still love this one:  “…that was a poor effort”

 

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Scott Van Pelt is priceless.

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I’ll link to my take on the Phoenix Coyotes situation later today or tomorrow…  I know you need your hockey news fix.

In the meantime, I have a light-hearted article up on www.hockeyprimetime.com -- my thoughts on the experience of sharing a cold tub with another dude after a hockey game.

Also, tomorrow:  The first of a series of video blogs on the upcoming NHL season.

Are You Ready For Some Football??

 

Things I felt like bringing up today:

Google Analytics, as I’ve mentioned before, is amazing.  Without telling me the specific information on users, it tells me fun stuff like what cities people are checking my blog from (shout out to readers in Nykoping, Neuilly-sur-Marne, Ramat Gan, and Cagayan de Oro…seriously), what site referred them to me, and what internet connection speeds my readers were using that particular day. 

Where am I going with this? 

I have to know:  Who the hell are you, people connecting via dial-up internet??  It’s not even cheaper at this point.  I’d never checked that stat until yesterday, when four of my readers apparently connected via dial-up.  I just want to know so I can call every single one of you and knock you off your respective modems.

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NHL TV’s “portal” site is pretty neat.

This summer I met a couple of the guys who were working on the launch of this site, and it really did turn out great – fully functional, with plenty of hours to be wasted.  And the best part is, each team has an individual page (great news for all you rabid Hurricanes fans), and each video comes with the “share” URL, so I can chuck them into my blog when relevant.  Or when not.  I’ll wait for something good to go up before I waste your time.

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Today’s walk-up-to-bat music is probably “Run This Town Tonight” – Rihanna, Jay Z and Kanye, off Jay Z’s just-released album, Blueprint III (of course, I’d have the music guy start it after Rhinna’s part – possibly cutting right to Kanye’s verse {2:50}).  Parental Advisory – Explicity Lyrical Content:

 

PS – Kanye’s — “Whatchu think I rap for, to push a f****n Rav 4?” — is my favourite rap line in awhile. 

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 And the big news:

HEEELLLLLLOOOOOOOO FOOTBALL SEASON!  I feel so… American for being this excited.  But I can’t help it, I just am.  

The new look Jets with Sanchez under center?  Rodgers ready to throw a disgusting amount of touchdowns?  Brett goddamn Favre is a Viking?  They’re letting Michael Vick play again?  It’s all too much.

The NFL is the only sport that holds a candle to the NHL in the “highlight montage to music” category. 

Can’t we make this a channel?  Just non-stop videos of music paired with crazy-sick sports highlights?  Who wouldn’t watch this?  The Masters has ownership of first place overall on “montages-that-make-me-wanna-cry”, but the NFL and NHL share first place in “montages-that-make-me-want-to-punch-every-face-I-see-in-the-next-ten-minutes-cause-I’m-so-fired-up”.

So grab your case of beer, book your Sundays off, and get into it.  Jets at Houston this weekend, J-E-T-S Jets-Jets-Jets!

The Favre No-No and a Cyber Hobo

 

It’s been a looonnnnggg time since I’ve cleaned out the ‘ol thought locker.  Fortunately, I’ve been too busy to fill it with much.  Hold on tight while I unleash some unparalleled genius (aka unfiltered gobbledygook)

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Starting recently and moving backwards, I deserve one more rant at the Favre dog and pony show he’s running:

Doesn’t signing with the Vikes officially prove we need police tape around this guys crime scene of a brain?  It highlights the sad fact that he clearly never understood the importance (and general seriousness) of the Green Bay/Minnesota rivalry to the fans.

Doesn’t it sort of illustrate that he’s simply been some turbo gifted athlete that was totally spaced on what it all meant to people?  Like everytime those two teams played, he wasn’t sure why the fans were in such a frenzy, but instead of bothering to figure out why, he just enjoyed it?

It’s like he has no idea what he’s doing to his legacy.  He literally has to win a Superbowl this year to be remotely validated.  They would have built golden statues of this guy all over Wisconsin - he could have been the Governor! (Him and Al Franken could rule the north as an unstoppable duo).

He was absolutely my favourite player for years.  What. Is this. Guy. Doing?

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Why aren’t there any funny Republicans?

And I mean, “haha” funny, not “this milk smells funny”, like the way Glenn Beck is.  That guy’s so crazy Gary Busey watches his program and thinks “…Wow.  That guy’s crazy”.

I’m not trying to start any political warfare here, I’m just thinking – every political comedian I can think of leans heavily left.  Why is it impossible to be pro-life and pro-laughs?

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 After three days of living in Arizona and budgeting for reality, I’ve acquired a broken microwave and chipped tooth.  Thank you unforseen expenses for the kick in the reality button.

Now that I’m done with hockey, I’m getting the tooth permanently fixed (re-breaking it on a yearly basis would have been pricey, so I waited to get it done right).  What does a crown for a tooth cost, you ask?  $1,100.00, I answer.  I think it’d be cheaper to get one for my head.

Which leads me to my idea (copywritten August 2009).

I wanna become a cyber hobo.

I want a picture of me as a hobo, holding a blank sign, and I’ll change the message daily.  I’ve got a hundred good hobo sign ideas, and I figure I can beg for e-change somehow.  I’ll be like the Naked Cowboy of New York, only not naked.  Or a cowboy.  Or in New York.  But you get the drift.

Will blog for food.

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Oh, and for those of you who’re super interested in what the drive from Kelowna to Phoenix looks like, I’ve put a little picture blog at the end of “Over The Hills and Through The Woods”.  Enjoy.  I believe at one point I have two straws in my nose, a yard of margarita, and I’ve befriended a huge M&M.

Chips Are Aptly Named

Sports injuries suck, but they heal.

Sadly, with age, they sort of un-heal.

You’ve seen the “un-healed” - that group of fun old guys that limp around with bad knees because they used to do squats with bison on their back during their football days. 

Is it too soon to look like one of those guys?

I rarely missed a game during my hockey playing days (supply your own “’cause you never went in a corner” joke).  I Ironman’d it (never missed a game due to injury) for all three years of junior, all four years of college, and my first year + of pro.

*(The one college game I missed was A HEALTHY SCRATCH my junior year.  But I’m not bitter.)

In order to accomplish this feat, I played on percaset, cortisone or adrenaline on multiple occasions.  Nothing says recovery like re-injuring stuff you can’t feel.

So, here I am.  The last professional game I played was on my 26th birthday, almost nine months ago.

I’m not gonna rattle off my list of ailments, cause I’m still a young buck, so “shut up and stop complaining” right – I can understand that.  The list shouldn’t be this long.  But, as a reminder of the beatings I took, my front tooth (already 3/4 fake) chipped on a chip tonight (…is that irony? Alanis Morissette messed up my ability to tell). 

Perfect timing to enter the American health/dental world.  Anyone know a good dentist in Phoenix?

Also, this is my first year as a hockey fan, and I won’t be living in Canada.  Obviously, this means I won’t be getting the CBC, TSN, SportsNet, or Headline Sports, all of which come with every basic cable package in Canada, and the last three run hockey highlights roughly 40 minutes out of every hour.  Seriously.

So how do I stay in touch?  The Center Ice package?  Pirated cable?  Move back to Canada?  Sign up to play for the Coyotes? (I assume that’s how it’s going to work there this year, isn’t it? On a volunteer basis?)

All I know is, I’m too excited for this years NFL season to be mad at ESPN’s coverage right now.  Show me all the clips of Brett Favre punting Packer nation in it’s cheeseballs that you can dig up, I’m fully entertained.

I’d say the Pack are up there in my top couple teams to root for, but this is just too fun to follow, because you know some die-hard Favre-tattooed cheese-doodle-eating Wisconsin-ite has contemplated killing either himself or Brett in the past few days.

Watching Favre right now is like excusing your crazy Grandmothers rantings at the Thanksgiving table because “she doesn’t know what she’s saying”.  He’s that far gone for doing this.  He needs to be medicated.

I’m almost loving the NFL drama enough to chose NFL Sunday Ticket over a whole tooth tomorrow.  But only almost.

The Awkwardanese Poodle Wrangler

 

I’ll address Swiffer’s new invention a little farther down.

 

The NFL season is a beast of a schedule.  It’s only 16 regular season games, sure, but have you watched one?  The game is an hour long, of which players are on the field 20-40 minutes depending on their position and how the game is going.  But those are brutal minutes.  Every play carries the summer of training combined with anger and opportunity, all jammed into each gigantic shoulder-to-helmet explosion.

Which is why I appreciate that the performance Brett Favre did what it was supposed to do.  After years of watching professional baseball players stats increase after fourty (hmm), and 18 year olds excelling in the NHL, it was nice to watch the natural curve and progression of a normal (and excellent) career.  The man was playing Quarterback in the NFL at 40, his shoulders were held together with Scotch Tape and the press was harder on him than the opposing Defensive Line.  As a Jets fan, I was crushed when the team stumbled down the stretch, but it wasn’t beyond understanding.  Clemens fastball got better at 42 and we all thought “Wow, this guy’s a legend”.

Didja see the Westminster Dog show? Didja??  It was great.  Watching it, I instantly became the worlds harshest dog critic.  Nope, stupid haircut.  That one has dumb feet.  Punch that dog.  But I laugh about every two minutes.  Where are all these dogs in the real world?  Why doesn’t my neighbor own a dog with cord-thick dreadlocked hair?  I want one.

Stump was the big winner.  Get a loada this guy.

Ha!  What a proud breed, Sussex Spaniel.  I don’t usually care for Spaniels, but come on, his name is Stump and he’s ten.  You love him.  But there’s some other crazy breeds.  Check these dogs out:

   

I’m a Komondor.  I say arf.

   

You can’t tell if I furrow my brow.

 

You can punch one of us, go.

 

Good times.  I think the next reality show should be “Pick the biggest dog dork”, and at next years dog show we’ll use a little trickery.  The dog owners will think it’s a show for the dogs, but really we’ll use the show as a platform to interview as many of these obsessive dog owners as possible and we’ll pick the biggest social write-off.  For betting purposes, the people who pick owners of Standard Poodles have to give the rest of us odds.

But wait!  I think we have an early leader!  Not sure who he is, but he looks eligible.

My family doesn’t have a whole lot of dogs in it, aside from the Gillies collection of Newfoundlands.  Let me quote the Dog Show Commentator on Newfoundlands (note: “Dog Show Commentator” not eligible for social-ineptness award)  “Not the dog for neat freaks.  They drool and shed and like to play in the water bowl from the bottom up.  Champion swimmers”.  Nice pick Pamcakes.

But if the Bourne’s were to have a family entry, it would be my Aunt Kathy’s dog Duffy.  He’d probably win any dog show with his deep, intelligent eyes, we’ve just never tried.  There’s just one issue.  What category do we run  it  him in?