This post is in response to the article written by ESPN's Scoop Jackson, and can be read at: http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=jackson/051101

My cousin Johnnie Rascoe, who is the head basketball coach at Roanoke Chowan Community College asked me the other night if I head read Scoop Jackson's piece on Phil Jackson and what he had said about hip-hop, and I told him no. So I got up at about four this morning to write an editorial for the Newspaper I write for here in North Carolina, and decided to check it out. The editorial I am writing is about a guy named Calvin Moore, who is the head basketball coach for Bertie High School's varsity men. Scoop's article while at first seemed like the black thing to say, actually knawed on me especially after having just interviwed Coach Moore the previous evening. Coach Moore and I played high school basketball together, and I've known him for decades. He graduated from North Carolina State University, and has been an educator and coach for as long as I can remember. He missed caoching his team last season because as a Major in the National Guard, his unit was summoned to Iraq.

Let's get two things straight. Phil Jackson is a very rich white man who has made a lot of money as a celebrity coach in the NBA. I say celebrity because that is what I see him as first and foremost a celebrity. Not that he's not a good coach, but he has had the luxury of coaching four of the fifity greatest players of all time for his nine championship runs (stop hating on Kobe). So whenever somebody in his position and with his cultural background feels as they are an authority about the state of black youth in America, I usually pay no more attention to them as I did Fisher DeBerry when he made his comments about needing more black players on his team because they were faster.

I ignore them because most of the time they are just shooting from the hip and saying the exact same thing that most black people feel, but don't want anyone else to have the right to say it. I also ignore them because if I was going to going to start a crusade to clean up the negativity being thrown at black youth in our society, I would start with that bastion of African American culture, Black Entertainment Television.

Which brings me to my second point, as ill equipped as he is to serve as a diplomat for anything than other than wearing nice suits and following great players around, Phil was the Jackson in that article with the most relevant point.

I am everything that Scoop Jackson is not, except black. I am not a holder of a Master's degree from anywhere. I have been unemployed, on several occasions. I have not only been accused of being a thug, I was a thug. I have been fired from a job for being black, and no I am not exaggerating. I have been both accused and convicted of crimes. I have never had the priveledge of being requested to speak as a guest at a university.

I also do not own a pair of Sean John Jeans. I have not bought a pair of AF1's in over a year, and I don't even know what the hell L-R-G stands for, I'm still wearing FUBU.

As much as I'm not Scoop Jackson, I'm also not Calvin Moore, and for all of Scoop's accomplishments neither is he, and Calvin Moore, to a point, agrees more with Phil Jackson, than Scoop Jackson.

When Calvin Moore and I were in high school, I was one of the hip-hop kids, and Calvin was one of the "do-gooders". He wasn't a nerd, not at all, but he had no interest to join me and my friends when we decided to break into cars, start gang fights, steal, get pissy drunk and smoke weed.

Calvin Moore's parents weren't about to let very much negativity into their child's upbringing, and while by hip-hop standards Calvin Moore's life may not have been bling-blingy, guys like Calvin Moore are the only salvation for the people Phil Jackson referred to as  a certain population in our society.

I'm not blaming rap music for any shortcomings I may have had as an individual, quite the contrary. I was a collegiate All-American athlete, who competed internationally for the United States in track and field. I played semi pro basketball and football in Europe, and represented the NFL at the World Expo in Seville Spain back in 1992. At various times in my life I have coached high school teams in football, and track.

My first job out of college was working for a record label in London, England where I lived for about three years, before I returned to the U.S. and had success as a concert promoter. My days as promoter took a serious blow when a kid was shot and murdered, across the street from one of my shows. I am old enough to remember Kurtis Blow coming out with an album, and unfortunately I lived long enough to have heard T.I.'s "Urban Legend", one of the CD's that Scoop says is in his CD changer right now.

The lines of communication that exist between the world of rap-music, and inner city criminals has always been as direct and accessible as Nextel walkie talkies. Early hip-hop wordsmiths, while providing bravado in their lyrical self indulgence, painted the dark side of the ghetto with thin fragile strokes, making sure that the kids didn't get it twisted. The message was I make money, because I am a supremely talented musician. That is no longer the message in today's hip-hop culture, and Scoop's neccessity to align himself with the blackness of America based on what he wears and what music he listens to is exactly the problem with black people today.

When there is a feature story on Jay-Z in Forbes magazine, Scoop sees an article celebrating the achievement of hip-hop in the world of business. I see a uniquely talented poet and lyricist, that used his talent to grandiose stories of violence and drug culture, and market decadence to our youths, while helping corporate America peddle more overpriced, status symbols that further exacerbate the get rich or die trying mentality that dominates the mindset of today's black youth. Status symbols like say...a three hundred dollar pair of sneakers.

So, now I'm player hating huh? Ni**a Puh-lease. As I previously stated, the lines between the world of rap music and crime have always been diaphanous at best. Who do you think financed all of the early rap record labels, and concerts, the YMCA? As for me, I've spent enough time in the judicial system to know that criminal activity isn't a game, and not at all as glamourous as music videos make it out to be. I spit on today's wannabe gansters, the fake one's on wax, and the fake one's in Sean John jeans as well.

Scoop wants to claim allegiance with KRS-ONE, well let me tell you son, The Teacher wasn't about all that b.s. you got on you back and feet. KRS-ONE tried to tell us way back in the days...self destruction, you're headed for self destruction.

 I wouldn't mind having Scoop Jackson's life, I think. I mean I'm sure he's getting cake, and all I see him on television all of the time. My brother and my cousin just got their master degrees as well so he should be proud of his work. But I think I would rather have Calvin Moore's life.

Coach Moore says his main message to kids is to set high standards, and be disciplined enough to adhere to them. The key word for Coach being standards, as opposed to goals, or dreams.  Being held to a higher standard means that your conduct, and interaction with your fellow man will be of the utmost importance in the way conduct your affairs. If you are a commendable person who works hard and people can rely on you, then success is a natural reward for living in such a manner. But who defines success.

The difference between the Scoop Jackson's and Calvin Moore's of the world is their definition of success. Scoop feels successful because he can wear hip-hop clothes to work, and listen to gansta-rap without letting it influence his ability to make sound decisions. Coach Moore would just as well wear an Army uniform and listen to the Isley Brothers. While both men have the right to enjoy the fruits of their labor as they see fit, Calvin Moore, everyday has to gauge his every move against the influence he will have on someone else's child.

I still listen to rap music. But there are very few current artists whose lyrics I can tolerate. It's not the rappers fault really, though. All artists should feel free to create whatever artistic endeavor they feel compelled to produce. What is sad is the choice of music and video that corporate America has decided should be marketed and packaged to our youth. KRS-ONE, Chuck D of Public Enemy, Rakim, these guys were and are the standard bearers for what is original about hip-hop and ghetto youth, not just in the beats and rhymes but in the messages. P-Diddy, Jay Z, Ying-Yang, are all examples of hip-hop run amok.

Do you all remember when Snoop Doggy Dogg (as he was called then) released his first album, in 1994? I remember it well. Every prime time national news desk ran stories about his violent background, derogatory lyrics, fouls language...etc..etc..etc... Ditto for Ice Cube, and Ice T. White America was determined no to let these thugs take over the minds of their children and ruin the moral fabric of American society .So when I see Snoop hawking Motorola at halftime of the National Championships, or Ice Cube's new Paramount Pictures movie release, or Ice Cube, playing a cop on Law and Order, I wonder, who caved in first? Where is C. Delores Tucker now? Whatever happened to Tipper Gore? The answer is no one did. When corporate America decided that there was more money to made convincing black kids to view crack dealing as a career option or a stepping stone to a multi million dollar rap career, then our entire community became walking, gun toting,  billboards of dysfunctional living, and that mindset will take decades to reverse.

One remote control flick to the thugs, hoochies, and gansta's on BET everyday...all day. It's not that whatever clothes you wear, or what music you listen to should define you, that will only happen if you let it. But just because you and some other dude wear the same clothes and listen to the same music does mean that you share any life values at all, and while Scoop can wear anything he wants to work, he can thank people like Martin Luther King Jr., Thurgood Marshall, Harriet Tubman, and other civil right leaders for that. I'm not giving P-Diddy, or Jay Z, or Master P credit for anything that Coke, Timberland, and Koreans in the ghetto hasn't done and that's primarily exploit the hood for profit.

While I respect Scoop Jackson's ability to wear Sean John and L-R-G- to work, I would rather see him in a suit. I would like for young black kids who aspire to be the next Scoop Jackson, knowing that they have to get up at four a.m. get a good day of research in, double and triple check sources, write, re-write, re-write some more, make phone calls, all the things that have made Scoop the award winning journalist that he is. I don't want the kids thinking that in order to be a guest columnist on Rome is Burning you can act like Young Jeezy (do you see Jim Rome wearing Sean John on his show?).

I grew up admiring the late Ralph Wiley, just because he was the only regular black face I saw in Sports Illustrated, and Dick Schapp, who I thought was the smartest sports guy ever. Today, I enjoy watching John Saunders, who is rapidly approaching Schapp-like greatness, and James Brown who still looks good in a suit.  I'm sure that Stephen A. Smith would be more comfortable in a Rockawear velour doing his show, but there is a professional standard that he is obviously trying to reach, and trying to force hip-hop, disguised as blackness, down the throats of a diverse audience is probably not going to help his cause.

If Scoop wants to point the finger at a Jackson for backstabbing black people, he should look at Michael Jackson, the biggest case of hating black skin that I've ever known. Yet when this child molester, excuse me alleged child molester, was forced to go to trial for his acts all of the sudden black people wanted to rally around him like he was some martyr for African Americans. Screw Michael Jackson, and OJ Simpson. They never wanted anything to do with black people until they got in trouble and then they wanted us to rally behind them. We, black people that is, excused their warped behavior and used their plights as forums to shout about racial injustice, sort of like we're doing with R. Kelly right now. The same relationship is occurring right now with rap music and black people. We as a people are so starved for a success story that we openly support a medium that moved from one of social conciousness and positive youthful rebellion, to a smorgashboard of lust, greed, crime, and thuggery that even Al Capone could be proud of. That what's the majority of today's hip-hop acts are nowadays, training guides for white America on how to treat ni**as.

Unlike Phil Jackson, Calvin Moore doesn't have to worry about enforcing a dress code, or what his players have in their headphones, the only thing his players listen to is him. Why not? When your coach is a Major in the Army, a war veteran, and former basketball player, as well as a church going family man, you don't have to worry about his credibility when he tells you that a certain population is going through some serious changes right now, and they are not all good. Calvin Moore is as credible a source about black youth in America if not more so than either Phil or Scoop Jackson, even if he's wearing a pair of Levis.

So what Ron Artest asked to be traded! If anyone out there thought that this season would end with Artest in a Pacers uniform, then you seriously don't grasp the surrealness of professional sports, and the never ending inevitabilities that exist therin. Artest leaving Indiana this seaosn was as sure of a thing as T.O. blowing up the Eagles franchise, and as sure as I was that Tookie Williams was going to "bite it" as well.

All things considered, Ron Artest is a  pretty scary cat to the regular joe. I mean he's like six feet eight inches tall, and weighs about two hundred and fifty pounds. He's a big bad hip-hop guy from one of the roughest housing projects in the city of New York. He has shown a willingness to jump into the stands and punch paying customers in the face, but he's no Tookie Williams.

Nevertheless, Artest almost managed to upstage a real killer Monday night.  As the nation watched every news outlet in the nation descend upon San Quentin to try and save the life of a convicted murderer, who was responsible for helping to organize one of the most violent gangs the Unites States has ever had the priveledge of doing business with (ahem...Rap Music).

I fielded calls from friends all over the country asking me my opinion about Tookie Williams and his situation. My response was clear, without advocating the Death Penalty as right of the government, if you are going to have a system like this in place, then Tookie Williams was definately someone who would've been on the waiting list, and deservedly so.

There is something that inmates say to each other to help "bid", the in-house slang for doing time, and it says..."You might not be in here for what they charged you for, but you are definately in here for something." Tookie Williams was without question responsible for the murder of innocent people, probably on more than one occasion. It kind of goes with the job. It's like Kenneth Lay saying that he had no idea what the numbers were at Enron, then like, what are we paying you for? If you are the leader of a violent gang, I'm pretty sure that things like murder and mayhem would be prerequistes for the position. Sure Williams wrote some nice books for the kids after he had murdered some people, but that's  kind of like telling the state troopers after a high speed chase,  "Well damn officer, I did give you guys some good FOX video!"

So there were the customary celebrities, with their in between my making one hundred million dollars this year, I show up at executions, weddings and Bar Mitzvah's, and all the failed attorneys with thier own television shows trying to fight a constitutional issue that should be debated in court, on cable television. I swear that the sports stations were waiting for the talking heads to pause because at every Death Countdown 2006 commercial, I could switch back to one of the twenty sports stations on cable and get the latest on rapper, I mean basketball player Ron Artest.

Wow! Two thugs, two gangsters, two hardcore brothers, two timezones, eighty stations, either BET or MTV should've had all the exclusive interviews. Arnold playing the part of Donnie Walsh..."If Tookie Williams wants to commit crimes that will gurantee him a death sentence then I will be happy to oblige him, although it kind of causes me to pause because he speaks so well". Artest,of course, is the guy Walsh has to accomadate though, and if he wasn't sleeping on the job he would've had him traded after the first week of the season.

A lot of people are saying that Artest betrayed the Pacer's fans, and organization. I say hogwash. The predicament that Indiana finds itself in is a great example of what the NBA has allowed it's players to become, and now David Stern and company are hoping that things like, a dress code, and no more drafting players out of high school will fix. This is the monster that the league created, now let them deal with it. Ron Artest is being Ron Artest.

When Artest started his tirade this week, my pulse didn't jump a single bit, neither did my interest. In two days NBA teams will start dealing players they want to move anyway, Artest was certainly going to moved by the All-Star break, I knew it, you knew it, squirrels knew it. I don't understand why was it such a big news story? This just in, a multi-millionaire athlete with a penchant for getting into trouble with management goes public about his dissatisfaction about his conditions and demands a trade...yeah...and? Oh...it's Ron Artest...yeah...and?

While on Death Countdown 2006, a gang leader who is sentenced to die for heinous crimes he committed in the past has claimed innocence and says that he would rather not pay the State it's penalty for his crimes, a penalty that he knew existed before he committed his acts...yeah...and?...Oh...it's the guy that Jamie Foxx played in a movie...yeah...and?

What about the good news that went on yesterday like Colin Farrell finally going to rehab (did you see Phonebooth?), or Prince William saving a fake life, (and it wasn't his own!) Or Beyonce deciding to stay single (look for the Jay-Z ballad album to hit stores on Valentine's day). No, I had to watch two people, two knuckleheads, two manipulative opportunists, fill the drug that is live television with more of the same old, same old, same old, crap. I'm getting bored. Susan Johnson, you now have my opinion.

Where are Beavis and Butthead when you need them?

Da East 2006

Curly Morris

1.Pacers  2.Heat  3.Celtics  4.Cavaliers  5.Pistons  6.Nets  7.Bucks  8.Sixers

                At the start of last season I predicted that the Boston Celtics would win the Atlantic Division, and that the New York Knicks would not make the playoffs. Most Knick fans were so high on Stephon Marbury having a full season in New York that I was accused of blasphemy. Unfortunately, I was correct in my assumption, and you know what? Nothing's has changed. Contrary to popular belief, the New Jersey Nets will not win the Atlantic division. Why? Well take a load off and let me tell you why.

The Atlantic:

                Aside from the very likely possibility of either, Richard Jefferson, Jason Kidd, or Vince Carter getting injured for any lengthy stretch during the season, the Nets don't play very good defense. They will try to force the tempo, but any team with the ability to put pressure on the Nets' interior defense, will get many trips to the foul line and keep the Nets big three from easy fast break opportunities. On that note everybody else in the division has better interior players than the Nets. Even with Krstic making great strides for New Jersey, their frontcourt is re-enforced with that mighty whirlwind Marc Jackson, and sixteen year vet, Clifford Robinson. While Philly, New York and Toronto simply have better low post players (don't sleep on Villanueva), Boston will initiate a lot of their offense from the post position with LaFrentz, and Al Jefferson this year and they have a couple of guards, including draft steal Gerald Green who will drive at will against the Nets big men, none of whom strike very much fear in offenses. While Philly and New York have good names on paper, each team is starting the season with a new head coach, and many questions concerning things like egos, and, chemistry, and other non-basketball related nonsense promise more soap opera than focus. As much as the Knicks have improved, they still don't have a single player that commands a double team, ever. There are at least eight other teams in the conference that have one of those type players if not more than one. If they want to sniff the one of the top three spots in the division, they are going to have to be able to shut down middle of the pack type teams like Philadelphia, Milwaukee, Washington, and Chicago. Marbury has never taken the next step to "franchise player", but either he or Crawford better take charge, fast. The Sixers have about the same talent level as New York, but they have Iverson and the Knicks do not. The Knicks will finish ahead of Toronto and battle Philadelphia for the eighth seed. While I've read in a few places that Danny Ainge is still entertaining trade offers for some players, Paul Pierce included, the Celtics are young, deep, well coached, and the defending division champs. I think they win the division again.

The Central:

                This is the best division in basketball, with the Southwest Division a close second. All five teams in the Central are playoff caliber teams, and if they could play outside of their division all year, all would indeed make the playoffs. The worst team in that division now is probably the Chicago Bulls, and they were the number four seed in the East last year! Usual suspects, Detroit and Indiana will punch it out (no pun intended) for the division crown, with home court advantage in the playoffs at stake. Both Cleveland and Milwaukee upgraded their rosters significantly, whereas the Bulls lost Eddie Curry who led them in scoring last season and was second in rebounding. Chicago also gave up veteran big man and locker room leader Antonio Davis along with Curry in exchange for the perpetually underachieving, yet extremely well paid, Tim Thomas, and youngster Michael Sweetney. I have no idea what plans the Bulls have to shore up their inside presence, but I'm sure they won't find very many teams in the Eastern Conference looking to help them return to last year's form. The Cavs surrounded LeBron with shooters giving him many more options on offense as he strives to show the world that he is more Magic than Jordan. The Bucks have T.J. Ford back and having him being on the court with Michael Redd, and Bobby Simmons will make it very difficult to stop the Bucks underestimated offensive firepower. Thrown in adequate rookie Andrew Bogut and recent All-Star caliber center Jamaal Maqloire, and the Bucks are one of a couple of teams that wish they were playing in the Atlantic Division. There are a lot of expectations for LeBron to lead the Cavs into the playoffs this year, but just to do that he needs to navigate through two teams who are certain to challenge for the conference crown, one of which, Detroit, has just come off consecutive appearances in the finals. The other, Indiana, is the pick of many, present company included, to represent the East in June. I think that the Pacers squeak by in this slugfest, and while it might be mathematically impossible for all five teams to make it into the post-season, four of them will.

The Southeast:

There is only one team in this division that matters and that is the Miami Heat. While Bobcats' rookie Raymond Felton may have guaranteed a playoff appearance (how cute), he will find out the difference between the ACC and the NBA soon enough. In Mr. Felton's division alone he has to face Joe Johnson, Steve Francis, Gilbert Arenas, and some guy named Dwayne Wade. In the immortal words of Jim Mora, Playoffs?! Playoffs?!  I really don't know quite what the Wizards off season philosophy was. While picking up Caron Butler could be viewed as a nice addition, the unceremonious departure of Kwame Brown didn't do much for energizing team morale. As much as Kwame was painted as being the bad guy, it's worth noting that LeBron notwithstanding, Larry Hughes appeared as eager to get out of D.C. just as fast as Kwame did. Losing Larry Hughes will hurt the Wizards but losing Steve Blake and Juan Dixon will hurt them just as much. Orlando may not be better than Atlanta now, and if the Hawks tripled their win total from last year, that would still only be only 39 wins and not enough to make the playoffs. The only question in this division is whether or not the Miami Heat will get to play the Spurs in June. Just like last pre-season, I say no. Shaq had an incredible year last year when you consider he played in 73 games and averaged 34 minutes per game. Expect those numbers to decline this season, which is what explains the thought process behind Pat Riley trying to bring in some scoring help in the forms of Antoine Walker, Jason Williams, and James Posey. Doesn't this sound eerily similar to the last dream team Shaq was on in Los Angeles? You know, the one that had four future hall-of-famers on it and was considered a shoo-in for the title? I see three major miscalculations on Riley's part. Number one, taking D. Wade of the ball is a monumental mistake. Wade is rapidly becoming one of the best point guards in the league, and easily the most effective scoring threat from the point position. At the two spot he is a sub-par defender, and struggles to score against much bigger two guards in the half-court offense where Miami needs to be consistent, in order for O'Neal to be effective. Number two, gambling that either Jason Williams or Gary Payton will be satisfied coming off the bench is ludicrous. I wonder how these guys will even co-exist in practice let alone in a game. Neither of them is an effective defender anymore so they are stuck playing point, which is what really freezes Wade to the two spot. Number three, signing Antoine Walker to any team other than Celtics has any shot at making your playoff team better. I watched Antoine's tenure in Atlanta, cool guy off the court. On the court, I'll take my uncle Russell before I take Walker, and my uncle Russell is fifty years old with a bad back. It's not that Walker doesn't have any talent, he just can't play basketball. He can shoot (sometimes), he can rebound (sometimes), he can pass (sometimes), his best defense is for the opposing team, and that's when he's jacking three pointers from the bench with twenty seconds on the shot clock. Walker would shoot from the locker room if he thought the coach wasn't looking. The Heat don't even know who will be coaching them for their title run, okay yes they do. Here's a hint, he's not their head coach now. I think this team got suckered by Jerry Buss and Shaquille O'Neal and after this failed run at a championship, D. Wade is outta there.

So, there I go blaspheming again, sorry. I want the Knicks to win the Atlantic Division and challenge for the East, and as soon as they put together the team to do it, I'll tell you about it. For the time being however, I believe that the Indiana Pacers will be this year's Eastern Conference's sacrificial lamb for the San Antonio Spurs. It should be a fun season to watch, until the finals.

The West: 1.Spurs 2.Sonics 3.Nuggets 4.Rockets 5.Mavericks 6.Lakers 7.Kings 8.Jazz

And I'm out like Stan Van Gundy after the All-Star break!

Spider-Man, Batman, and Popeye, the Story of Darryl and Barry

Curly Morris

                When I was a kid I was a huge Spider-Man fan. I tried to get my hands on every single comic book that featured the web-slinger. The fact that Spider-Man had superhuman strength, and could swing through the city uninhibited was merely part of the reason I was so enamored with wise cracking wall crawler. By stark contrast I was never a big Batman fan. Aside from the fact that Batman was a member of the DC Comics roster, which could never have even hoped to be nearly as cool as the super heroes that graced the covers of Marvel Comics, there was always something disenfranchising about Batman's dark, brooding ambiance that always made me feel disconnected to the crime fighter with more gadgets than even MacGyver could've imagined. Even as a child, I knew deep down in my soul that I could never be Batman. Batman obviously had a ton of money, I mean, what other super hero has a butler? Where is the triumph in the face of adversity there? On the other hand, Spider-Man was a geek just like me. Peter Parker, Spider-Man's alter ego, was a ninety-eight pound weakling, a nerd who loved science, and was absolutely terrified of talking to girls. Peter Parker had a crappy job, yet he was forced to look after people who were dependent on him for their survival. The entire city needed the geeky Peter Parker to don a spandex suit and save them from villains so many times, it often made you wonder whether or not there any police working, ever. Yet, even though Peter Parker, a.k.a. Spider-Man was responsible for saving tens of thousands of lives, worked a low paying job to support his widowed aunt, loved a woman so passionately that he sacrificed his own dreams to save her life, he was always reviled in the press. The Daily Bugle, Spidey's hometown rag, never took the time to notice the obvious humanity that was present in Spidey. John Jameson, the Bugle's editor, never considered reporting the struggle Spidey faced trying to balance his super hero life with his weak, regular guy life. In the face of all that weight to bear, Spidey never complained. Peter Parker went out and did the best he could, and apologized to us for his shortcomings. I used to always think to myself, if I was Spider-Man I would at least rob one bank! Of course, that would've immediately validated all the harsh things that the Bugle tried so hard to have the city believe about him. Most importantly, if Spidey had turned to crime, even for one instant, he would've lost not only the legions of fans that did in fact root for him to succeed, but he would've more importantly lost the very foundation that made him compelled to look out for the "Average Joe". Spidey was the "Average Joe", and that's why I've always been a Spider-Man fan. Batman, on the other hand, was inaccessible. Bruce Wayne, Batman's alter-ego, was an incredibly successful businessman, who lived high on the hog. Batman moved in the shadows, and relished his role as the "Dark Knight". Bruce Wayne existed on a financial perch that of course meant I would have to overcome two hurdles in order to duplicate his efforts. First of all in order to be Batman, you have to be rich. Spidey had his super powers thrust upon him by fate, not by his own choice. Peter Parker was bitten by a radioactive spider, and his spider powers developed internally. Batman, after his rise to financial prominence, decided that he'd probably be the best person to tackle the city's crime problem, pretty presumptuous huh? All in all, Batman did in fact save countless lives as well. The "Caped Crusader" estowed the virtues and integrity as both a businessman, and super hero that any parent would be proud to have their child adopt. The city leaders of Gotham, where Batman a.k.a. Bruce Wayne lived did in fact call him whenever there was an emergency. Yet, there was something about the fact that he had all of those gadgets, and toys that always seemed to be on his person right when he needed them, and the fact that he built most, if not all of them himself, that made the aspiration of being Batman a bit too much for an inner city kid like me. It never crossed my mind that like all ecological systems, for all things to survive, there has to be sustenance to evolve not only in as much volume as the components needed to consume them, but at the same point in time and history, huh? What I'm trying to say is this, if you need super heroes, then you must already have super villains.

                It is the super villain that necessitates a man having to call upon unseen or unimaginable resources to level the playing the field. The skinny guy on the beach needs to lift weights to counter-act the bully kicking sand in his face. Unfortunately as "Mr. Skinny" beach guy begins his weight training regimen; the bully is still working out as well, and already has a head start. "Mr. Skinny" would need an instant equalizer in order to save face in front of the girls and onlookers at the beach, something to give him a competitive edge. Weightlifting could take forever, and it may still not give Mr. Skinny an advantage. Mr. Skinny would have to turn to another cartoon character to find an instant equalizer, and that character would be none other than Popeye.

                Popeye first appeared on the scene way back in 1929. In the year of 1929, car radios, strained baby food, and scotch tape were invented, Ernest Hemingway's novel A Farewell to Arms was published, Martin Luther King Jr. was born, the Red Sox traded the greatest slugger in baseball, and of course, the Stock Market crashed. Popeye's

Arch enemy was a guy named "Bruto" who sported an unkempt full beard reminiscent of the stereotypical facial hair associated with male citizens of the U.S.S.R, the country that was the absolute arch enemy of the Unites States and all of its population. Even though Bruto was bigger and stronger than Popeye, the underdog sailor had an instant equalizer for Bruto's obviously superior physical prowess. All Popeye had to do to win the affection of the most un-sexy cartoon woman ever drawn, Olive Oyl, was down a can of spinach (which is good for you!), and instantly he could knock Bruto out of the stratosphere in a single blow, save face, and save the day for all. Well gee whiz, if I had been alive in 1929, I would've been stocking up on spinach by the truckload! If all I had to do was knock down a nice can of leafy green veggies, and I could knock guys like Bruto into another time zone, why would I hesitate?! Forget Bruto, once I disposed of him, I could be the bully from that point forward and have all of the Olive Oyls I wanted. Popeye showed us the quick way to super strength, and we never forgot that somewhere, someplace, there was a shortcut, even if it tasted nasty.

                Seventeen years before Popeye first graced Elize Seagar's comic strip "The Thimble Theatre", the United States of America had already seen an athletic "superhero" in James Francis (Jim) Thorpe. The young man indigenous to the soil he represented in the 1912 Sweden Olympics had won gold medals in both the pentathlon as well as decathlon. Mr. Thorpe also played football and baseball professionally. Nine years before Popeye hit the comics, and the Boston Red Sox traded away the first undisputed long ball legend George Herman (Babe) Ruth; Jim Thorpe had become the first president of the American Football Association (later to become the NFL). In spite of his accomplishments in an era where he was considered a second class human being on his home soil, Thorpe's daughter Grace had to fight almost eight decades later to have the international Olympic Committee return the two gold medals that had been stripped from him because he had played semi-professional baseball at an Indian Industrial School. To put the financial climate at the time into perspective, at that time General Motors was paying it's employees a whopping seven dollars per hour, so I doubt very seriously if Jim Thorpe could've managed to buy any sort of competitive edge over his competitors in Sweden, nevertheless, the concept of sporting events being a true measure of one athlete's natural and refined ability against another could not afford to be tainted by giving one athlete an instant advantage over his opponent, monetarily or not. Rules are rules in sport you know, that's why most athletic events have referees or some facsimile of such, to enforce the rules and make sure that every one starts out on a level playing field. There was a time, not too long ago when the achievement was in the effort, the accomplishment was in being fit to compete, the glory was in the eyes of the admirers who recognized an athlete's dedication and hard work. It is on these principles that tens of thousands of people who are considered "challenged" by society's normal population compete in something called "The Special Olympics" every year worldwide. P.E. classes all over the world are designed to develop a sense of camaraderie, teamwork, self esteem, good health, and achievement through strenuous physical effort. We've all heard the clich