The man of my dreams...

I could talk about last night’s game in this space today. Yet, considering that everybody I know watched the game, and that every columnist alive has written an article on last night’s game (Headline: In-Vince-able!!), I've decided against it. Instead, I’ve decided that I’d address something so awful, so horrifying, that it nearly ruined my night before it even got started.

Why the hell is Kenny Mayne on Dancing with the Stars? I’m sure a lot of sports fans are more “outraged” by Jerry Rice’s appearance on this abortion of a television show but, honestly, who didn’t see something like this coming from Jerry? This is the same man who was still trying to grow dreads/cornrows as little as two years ago. Mind you, the man had, not one, but two bald spots at the time. Suffice it to say, Rice does not and will not grow old gracefully. So it should come as no surprise to anybody that he would try and hold onto the spotlight in any way possible, which includes going on crappy reality shows. Frankly, we should be thanking ABC for not coming up with an episode of Celebrity Dad Swap. Can’t you just see Jerry trying to discipline Rockwell’s bad ass kids? Kenny Mayne did surprise me though. It’s not that Kenny is above this sort of blatant self promotion. I mean, have you seen the pieces that this guy does for ESPN? It’s more that I feel betrayed by one of the last ESPN personalities that I actually enjoy. Whether you enjoy Mayne’s sense of humor or not, you have to admit that he has a unique, and often quirky personality. Who knows, maybe Mayne’s running commentary during the show will be hilarious (you’ll have to fill me as I will NOT be watching). In fact, it was his strange sense of humor that drew me to Mayne back in my collegiate days. I watched so much of him on SportsCenter back then that one night he appeared in one of my dreams. Here’s a brief synopsis of how it went:

I walked into a bank with a file folder full of papers in my arms. I was quickly directed to the desk of a loan officer. At this desk sat one Kenny Mayne, only his nameplate did not read Kenny Mayne (you’ll have to forgive me, as I don’t remember the name that Mayne was going by). As I was at the bank for a loan and I didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot (presumably) with the loan officer, I didn’t say anything to Kenny about his phoney nameplate. After a few minutes of shuffling through my documents, Mayne looked up from his desk and said simply, “You’re not you.”, implying that I had somehow falsified the documents that sat in front of him. At this point I responded, “Well, you’re not you!” in reference to the phoney nameplate that sat on his desk. We went back and forth like this for a number of minutes until finally Mayne (fearing that I would out him in front of his co-workers) threw my stack of papers at me and told me to get out. Enraged by his disrespect of me, I responded by sweeping all his papers off his desk and then followed that up by spitting on his desk while exclaiming, “This man isn’t who you think he is, he’s a fraud!!”

That’s it, the entirety of my Kenny Mayne dream. I have no idea what this dream means, other than that I did far too many drugs in college. Well that, and that somewhere deep down in places you don’t like to talk about at cocktail parties, I’ve always known that Kenny Mayne was a sham.