I have no interest in wading into the great Trump vs. the players debate.
My stance: Players, even multi-millionaires, do not forfeit their constitutional rights when they put on a uniform.
So if they want to protest during the National Anthem, that is their right.
It doesn't matter if I like it or agree with it.
I don't think President Trump made things any better by picking a fight with the players, even calling them out with some colorful language, noting he's like to see an owner fire one of those SOB's.
So that is where we're at today. Race is everywhere in America. Why would sports be different.
But there is something that does concern me, and it's starting to turn me off to one of the great joys in my life: Sports.
Why is it that every action on the field must be accompanied by a preening athlete, gesturing and motioning, demanding to be seen.
What ever happened to simply going about your job, getting up and getting back in the huddle, or the dugout, or the bench.
No more.
Now ever hit demands a bat flip in baseball, every simple tackle, run or catch - let alone a first down - demands all kinds of theatrics in football. Every bucket in hoops calls for staring into the camera.
I blame ESPN for some of this. All of this started when players realized this was how to get recognized, to get on SportsCenter, to become the story.
But yesterday I witnesses something I'm still not sure I actually saw.
No, I'm not talking about Doug Pederson's decision to go for it on fourth and eight.
I'm talking about Giants wide receiver Odell Beckham Jr.'s act after catching a touchdown pass.
As best I can tell, Beckham seemed to get down on all fours, lift his leg and then imitate a dog urinating.
Am I making this up?
I don't think so.
It was almost enough to ruin a glorious Eagles win.
Call it the thrill of victory, and the agony of having to watch a non-stop parade of self-important superstars degrading the game.
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