Well damn, what a week for the sporting life, eh? This isn't really a true F*%k That, Friday, because unlike other things I feature in this column, I don't hate sports scandals. In fact, I full on LOVE them. I love when people do dumb things and get busted for it, because it happens to me daily. But I wanted to talk about sports scandals in a post today, and it's Friday, and I have no doubt I can find some aspect of each of these scandals to which I can say F*%k That, despite my extreme happiness that the scandals themselves exist. Ready?
Lance Armstrong: I don't much care for cycling to begin with, and furthermore didn't watch the Armstrong interview last night because I was busy taking substances (beers) to decrease my performance during my own ride at SoulCycle this morning. But I also don't much care for fraud, nor for sociopaths. What the actual fuck? Did he destroy the hopes and dreams of kids everywhere by shitting upon the whole premise that you, too, can overcome obstacles and be anything you want to be? Yes, but who cares?! He defrauded the American government by lying to the US Postal Service sponsors! Did he help raise millions of dollars for cancer research? Absolutely, but as someone whose job is non-profit fundraising, I'm telling you in no uncertain terms that as a non-profit, you don't recover from the very public pronouncement that your founder and member of your Board stole money from the American government and hundreds of other places that paid him for appearance fees, sponsorships, and honoraria under false pretenses. Donors don't take kindly to criminal misuse of funds, and any worthwhile research that had been funded by the Livestrong Foundation is taking the hit. Sheryl Crow, girl, you dodged a bullet. Lance Armstrong existing as a human being? F*%k That!
Manti Te'o: Now, what I do care for is football, and I am straight-up obsessed with the Manti Te'o scandal. Cannot get enough. I literally spent all day (I mean, all day outside of business hours...) on Wednesday scouring every source for more information. If that makes me vapid and a casualty of American celebrity-obsessed culture, so be it. A fake, dead, online girlfriend?! The Internet giveth, but so too it taketh away I guess. But holy shit, it is giveth-ing me endless entertainment right now with all the Manti jokes.
Not only does this provide internet amusement (again, outside of business hours...), but I've found more practical applications as well. For example, last night I sat down at the bar to wait for a friend and put my bag on the stool next to me to save it for her. The bartender asked if I was going to be eating as well as drinking, and I explained that I'd wait for my friend to decide. "Your invisible friend there?" I replied "Manti Te'o's girlfriend." We had a good chuckle and went on to talk about how crazy it all is. Then I freaked him out because I went on to overanalyze whether or not this was going to impact when he goes in the draft and so he had to pretend to get drinks for other people because it was uncomfortable.
"So far this sounds awesome, Claire? Why are you saying 'F*%k That!'?" Because, friends, eventually the truth will come to light and it's not going to be nearly as interesting as all the conspiracy theories we've cooked up in the meantime. Fake dead internet girlfriend disappointment? F*%k That!