The Perils of Potential: The Tragedy of Whitney Houston

It's been awhile since I did an entry on The Sports Guy, and with good reason: he seemed to have lost the ability to truly engage me. His columns and articles were rarely laugh-out-loud funny, and his allusions to popular culture seemed either forced or decidedly stale. In short, it seemed that his best work was behind him.

However, the tragic death of Michael Jackson did more than bring back a tortured genius back to artistic and cultural relevance. Michael's death also brought us back Bill Simmons, The Sports Guy. Slowly, Simmons, shaken by the passing of an icon, seemed to rediscover what the era he works best in (the '80s and '90s) means to the many middle-aged men and women whose lives were defined by the energy, promise, and disappointment of the period.

In his latest mailbag, a reader asks him:

Which famous singer would have dominated "American Idol" the most had he/she started his/her career as a contestant on the show? I thought MJ around the "Off the Wall" era, but then realized he would not have been eligible because of his Jackson 5 fame. So who? Please don't tell me John Mayer, circa 2005.

Simmons, in a stunning return to form, makes the following observations:

Come on, Cliff, 2005 Mayer would have rolled through that show every week, caused a national riot and had Paula whipping her ovaries at him. Anyone non-threatening with undeniable talent who can play guitar, play the piano or belt out tunes is going to succeed on "Idol." Young Alicia Keys would have crushed "Idol." Same for the dude from Maroon 5. Norah Jones would have done well. You get the idea. But there is one answer for your question and only one: Whitney Houston...

One of the many fascinating subplots of the mid-80s: you had a male singer (Jackson), a female singer (Whitney), a boxer (Mike Tyson), a baseball pitcher (Dwight Gooden) and an actor/comedian (Eddie Murphy) who peaked at precociously young ages, convinced us they were headed toward becoming the "greatest (fill in the genre) of all time" … only none of them made it. Not one.

I would argue Whitney barely edges out Gooden as the biggest tragedy of the five. Eddie had a phenomenal nine-year run of "SNL" episodes, movies and comedy specials before his movie career went Barry Zito on us. Tyson had a number of memorable fights and made such an impact that I have been pushing for ESPN to have "Tyson Week" (like Shark Week) for this entire decade. Jackson had all the Jackson 5 stuff, "Off the Wall," "Thriller" and "Bad" before things started getting weird. But Whitney should have been the black Streisand: an iconic singer/actress who aged with her audience, lasted for decades and was mentioned in the first breath any time someone asked, "Who were the biggest female performers ever?" Instead, it was over for her in eight years...

I say '85 Whitney pulls away from the field like Secretariat in the Belmont, trounces '05 John Mayer, crushes Alicia Keys, obliterates the Maroon 5 guy. … Nobody touches her. Not for a second.

One last Whitney story because I think it explains the "you had to be there" aspect of Whitney's brief apex. My father took me to visit Tufts University right around the time her first album came out. Dad was looking for parking and "Saving All My Love" had just come on the radio. About halfway through the song, he found a spot and I thought we were getting out of the car. He told me to hold on until the end of the song. When I made fun of him, he explained simply, "Whitney really belts it out in this one." You have to know my dad. He never, EVER says things like this. And you know what? He was right. I didn't even challenge it. I just don't think there's ever been another singer who would have kept two people in their car during a random winter day in New England like that. Just Whitney.

In recognition of the undeniable talent, and equally undeniable train wreck that is Whitney Houston, here's a video of the time when a gloriously, stunningly unafraid Whitney Houston reduced David Letterman to a blubbering, fawning idiot. Enjoy!



Photo Credits:

Picture of Whitney Houston's debut album comes courtesy of ArtSchoolVets.

In Lieu of Geekery...

In lieu of Benjamin Loong's eagerly anticipated essay on the comic book industry, I've decided to pay homage to secret nerds paying tribute to not-so-secret-nerds. First on the list is Bill Simmons of ESPN, who unveils his hidden nerditude in his latest article for ESPN The Magazine:

A few weeks ago, I spent a Saturday at MIT's Sloan Sports Analytics Conference, or as I dubbed it, Dorkapalooza 2009! A slew of statistical rock stars showed up: Dean Oliver, Aaron Schatz, John Hollinger. Panels argued topics like "Where are basketball analytics headed?" and "What's more important, coming up with a cool formula or kissing a girl?" The hottest celeb? My friend Daryl Morey, the Rockets GM, who was hounded by MIT students as if he were Britney among the paparazzi. I dubbed him Dork Elvis. Even he admitted that was funny. Begrudgingly.

That's the thing about stat geeks: They have a sense of humor about themselves. And yes, I count myself among them. I played entire Microleague baseball seasons on my 1984 Apple and kept handwritten stats. I've played fantasy baseball since 1982. I frequent the Prospectus sites and devour their books. I try to hide my inner geek, but believe me, it lurks. Remember, I'm the guy who figured out Hickory High's title-game box score.

Lastly, let me pay tribute to the granddaddy of all guilty nerd pleasures (which is concluding its television run this season), the precursor to my current favorite, Chuck. Click on the video. You know you want to.

Shakespeare and Basketball

I wasn't going to post any entries since it's the end of the semester and I have quite a lot of checking to do, but I couldn't resist. I got to this wonderfully written blog entry via Henry Abbott's new True Hoop site on ESPN. While Henry's migration to the self-proclaimed Worldwide Leader in Sports is news in itself, I decided to save the inevitable vitriol involved and instead credit True Hoop (and, by association, the Worldwide Leader) for leading me to Celtic Shakespeare. Here are some excerpts worth considering:

On the raison d'etre for the post:

I have seldom been accused of being overly cultured. I have stains on all my best shirts, eat with little to no regard for table manners, and I'm "that guy" that makes out of place comments at parties that stop conversations dead in their tracks.

However, I do hold on to at least one sophisticated acquired taste. I love Shakespeare. I've seen dozens of plays and read more than half of the Bard's works.

A lot of people simply can't stand the language and/or don't appreciate the poetry weaved into his prose. This will largely be lost on those people, but oh well. To everyone else, I hope you enjoy and feel free to chime in with your own in the comments.

On hope in Boston:

Now is the winter of our discontent, made glorious summer by this sun of York - Richard III

It has been a long, hard winter of discontent for the Celtics, but there is hope for a glorious summer. We need a lot of luck and a lot of hard work by the management team. But there is hope ahead.

"Out, damned spot! out, I say!" --Lady Macbeth

To Vin Baker’s cap hit. The blight of Vin Baker will finally pass into the history books. We bought out his contract long ago, but the cap hit was spread across several years to lessen the blow. As of this summer, he’s no longer on the books!


On the talented, but sometimes overenthusiastic Bill Simmons:

Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, and tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief. – Polonius (in Hamlet)

To Bill Simmons. If you read the context of this quote you’ll see the irony of it. Polonius is like Simmons in that he believes nothing is worth saying unless you can stretch it out to 20,000 words. I love Bill, but sometimes the best writing comes in small packages.


Picture of William Shakespeare comes courtesy of The Classic Literature Library Presents William Shakespeare.

Picture of Bill Simmons comes courtesy of Charlie Powell, in Slate.

The I.C.C. Cricket World Cup, via "The Wanker!"

Ever since Sports Guy penned his entertaining, and ultimately misguided guide to the English Premiere League, I've been a Michael Davies fan due, oddly enough, to Simmons'preview of Chelsea:

Celebrity Fans: Michael Caine and fellow Page 2 columnist Michael Davies. As I mentioned earlier, I wanted to find a different team than Davies so we could have heated e-mail exchanges and use insulting words like "wanker."

After hurriedly googling (which, according to Wikipedia's entry on google is an acceptable term to refer to "to use the Google search engine to obtain information on the Internet"), I discovered that Michael Davis is not only charmingly funny, in that particularly deprecating British sort of way, but he is remarkably astute about what makes distinctly European sports worth following. Check out the mercenary work he did for ESPN, for starters.

He has another column on the self-proclaimed Worldwide Leader in Sports (which, if you've been paying attention, I've mentioned a second time without directly linking to) which helps demystify the wonderful world of cricket for us ignoramuses so thoroughly Americanized that we hardly know that the sport exists, much less, means so much to people worldwide. Enjoy the link, but not ESPN!

Picture of Michael Davies comes courtesy of (sigh) that which must be acknowledged, but not enjoyed. Damn my enslavement to proper citation, even to sports organizations dedicated to thoroughly homogenizing sports news content!

Acquired Tastes: The Onion Dispatch and Bill Simmons

As the entire family was wiped out by the preternatural cuteness of the assembled grandsons last night at Papalo's 60th birthday party (the picture to your left is one of the few still shots of Juan and cousin Miguel that came out well, from Papa's Portico dinner), I had absolutely no intention of posting anything new. Eyes dulled from lack of sleep and muscles aching from overexertion, I went through the motions of checking my mail and my favorite links when I first came across this:

Vince Carter Hires On-Court Assistant

EAST RUTHERFORD, NJ—New Jersey Nets shooting guard Vince Carter announced Wednesday that he had hired an on-court assistant to handle all...

This could have been an actual quote from the soulless entertainer masquerading as a ball player that is Vince Carter:

"I'm proud to introduce Miss Juliet Werner, who will be dribbling for me, setting my picks, attempting to get me steals, doing my passing, and all other manner of stuff that's been getting in the way of my shot," Carter said in a press conference held to introduce the 5'4" Werner to the public. "Juliet will be my right hand, especially as I concentrate on dunking with my left in order to become a more complete player."


And then this from Bill Simmons, the Sports Guy:

"After the Celtics inexplicably rolled off a four-game win streak and fell two games behind Memphis for pole position in the Durant/Oden Sweepstakes, I thought about flying back to Boston to kidnap Al Jefferson and stick Paul Pierce with a mononucleosis-infected needle. Instead, I decided to stay home, watch the Rockets-Celts game and jinx the streak with a running diary."

Looks like a good day for sports blogging. Enjoy!

Acquired Tastes: The Onion Dispatch

Longtime readers of this blog would know that I love reading ESPN Page2 columnist Bill Simmons. Simmons might not always be astute in sporting matters, but he is always entertaining. Eerily enough, here's another sign that the Apocalypse is upon us: Bill Simmons, meet The Onion.

Confused Bill Simmons Picks The Departed To Win Super Bowl

Inner-City Teacher Inspires Students To Stab Him

And for all those people who were subjected to the dreary dreck that lazy inspirational teacher movies have degenerated into, here's one for the books. Enjoy!