A VIEW FROM THE CHEAP SEATS
By Rich Trzupek
Ozzie and Marriot
White Sox Manager Ozzie Guillen came under fire last week using a word to describe Chicago Sun-Times blowhard Jay Mariotti in entirely politically incorrect terms. Chicagoland hasn't seen this level of righteous indignation since Bob Greene paused between seducing young ladies long enough to whine about Baby Richard.
The word Ozzie chose begins with an "F," ends with a "G" and was once used as a way to universally condemn everyone who didn't find the opposite sex particularly attractive. In 2006, when people debate whether the union of same-sexed partners should be granted legal status or not, the term is certainly offensive, but it's hardly an attack on a lifestyle, especially when used by someone whose linguistically-challenged in the first place.
Mariotti knows this as well as anyone. The Fat Kid is a master of the language, albeit that he doesn't use that skill for any worthy ends. When Ozzie cracked back at him using "the word", Jay was completely aware of what Ozzie meant.
Was Ozzie questioning Mariotti's manhood? Hardly. Whatever Jay's preference, it's hard to imagine a man or a woman who would willingly get naked with a guy who thinks about, promotes and talks about himself 110 percent of the time.
Was Ozzie delivering a backhand slap at a particular segment of society? Pul-lease. Ozzie dumps on all segments of society, without a bit of constraint. Which is, after all, another way of saying that he respects everybody, for he is always ready to laugh at anybody-including himself. Ozzie is an equal opportunity wise-ass, which is about as unbiased as a person can be.
For him, and for a lot of us, "the word" has a different sort of meaning. It's not about who you choose to do the horizontal bop with, it's rather about personal courage and honor. Properly translated, Ozzie called the Fat Kid "gutless," which is surely correct.
For Mariotti isn't one of the guys in the trenches, digesting and distilling the trials and trevails of the entirely human personalities who have the talent and desire to make sports entertainment their profession. Instead, he's a sniper-and a very talented one-firing away under deep cover. Taking down those who achieve success and popular acclaim from afar is his self-appointed mission. The Fat Kid never gets his hands dirty. That would be too damn uncomfortable.
The late, great Mike Royko despised the Fat Kid. It's easy to see why. Royko was every bit Mariotti's equal in putting words together in a pleasing order, but Mike understood the importance of rolling in the dirt. He might call Richard Daley a son-of-a-bitch in print, but he would never do so unless he was willing to dump on Daley to his face. The Fat Kid? He's nowhere to be seen.
Which does indeed make Mariotti gutless. The phrase "sniveling coward" was designed for the Fat Kid. It's a shame Ozzie didn't chose that phrase instead, but let's not pretend that we didn't all understand what he meant.
Chicago has a rich tradition of ruthless, brilliantly sarcastic and creative sportswriters. Starting with Ring Lardner, and continuing through Rich Talley, Bernie Lincicome and Steve Rosenbloom, our town has been blessed with scribes who could delve into the sports scene we so love and dissect it with wit and style. They earned the respect of athletes and spectators alike.
Mariotti? He's an insult to that tradition. In his world, whoever is successful deserves censure, because that's more points for Jay. What happens, or what is accomplished, doesn't matter a whit. All that's important is how it affects Jay.
It's very sad. The Fat Kid has a lot of talent. Properly applied, we would not only be entertained, we could be enriched.
Sadly, that's not to be. The Fat Kid's agenda is crystal clear. He'll spare no expense, nor any distortion, to bring the story back to him.
In the long run, that won't matter. We're not quite as stupid as the Fat Kid thinks we are. Which is too bad. He had the talent to be the next Royko. Instead, he'll eventually find that he's nothing but another wrongo.
