By David Rutter
1. Daley and Burge, WTF?
Hey, Mister Mayor, funny meeting you here.
Sometimes mayors are vulnerable enough that the law attempts to bring them to heel while they still serve in office. Takes a prosecutor with chootz-paw, as Michelle Bachmann says. It happened to mayors in Detroit and Washington.
But most of the big-timers are left alone with their sins until a successor takes the chair. So Richie will have to answer under oath, finally, about the Torture Era and his knowledge of it. Those purposely and purposefully addled answers he used to inflict on a helpless local press corps won’t suffice.
The Blago trial was the Cirque Du Freak.
This might be justice tapped from a deeper pool.
2. Soldier Field, WTF?
The turf at Soldier Field was so lousy that the Bears could not safely walk on it? Yep. Really.
That’s some seriously dangerous grass.
That’s the story, and they are sticking to it. But as anyone who has witnessed the annual Family Fest silliness knows, the Bears don’t actually run plays there. They sort of walk a few steps and then stop. They moved faster when they secretly skedaddled out the back and boarded the bus for home.
It was like trying to escape a blind date.
The grass at Soldier Field has been the worst in the NFL for decades. As for the new mayor, now he has to be personally responsible for bad grass? One week he’s helping to hunt bin Laden, the next he’s hunting Groundskeeper Willie.
3. Jereme Richmond, WTF?
There was not a witness to Jereme Richmond’s “Mr. Basketball” career at Waukegan High who did not recognize he might have been one of the state’s great prep talents ever. And there were almost as many of WTF’s crew who anticipated this might happen to him. There were running bets on how long it would take before implosion.
All the signs were there. Arrogant, rude, insufferable man-child of an enabling family. He was a feckless spawn of a culture that exulted in his exploits while ignoring his total lack of maturity, balance and shared values with teammates.
All he brought to the Illini in one star-crossed season were the same effortless skills and minimal human dimension. He was always missing one key cog. Some basketball Einstein convinced him to bolt Illinois and turn pro on the eve of a total NBA season lockout.
And now he is no longer a star to be coddled, but a gun-toting thug to be warehoused in prison. Waste? The word doesn’t come close to framing it.
4. Prince Watson, WTF?
And speaking of punks, if this turns out to be true (presumption of innocence yada-yada-yada), we have produced a mook so indifferent to human life that he’s still stealing cell phones from CTA riders even after killing one of his victims.
And he seems to have a preference for female targets. How rude.
And he’s a twin. The other one is almost as bad.
We’ve just had a flash of insight. A caregiver relative always notes after teen skunks have been nabbed that they went bad after “falling in with the wrong crowd.” There is no such thing as a wrong crowd. The wrong crowd is these two maroons.
5. Heat, WTF?
Pediatricians have suggestions, guidelines and voluntary wisdoms about how to avoid killing young football players with heat exhaustion. They suggest that football coaches must be thoughtful about this issue, apparently forgetting that, HEY, nimrods! They’re football coaches!
We fine ourselves and demand legal strictures for the silliest and most arbitrary reasons – failing to come to a full stop at intersections, or tearing off the “do not tear off this tag under penalty of law” tag on mattresses – but when it comes to protecting teens from death, we’re okay with guidelines.
Pediatricians are to real doctors what crossing guards are to FBI agents.
Bonus WTF
A few extra WTFs because you’ve been good boys and girls this week.
A. Worst suburban crook: It’s a living.
B. We want insurance companies validating our lives, because insurance companies are the perfect models for integrity.
C. Mr. Sajak, I’d like to buy a bowel.
D. I guess this is true.
WTF encountered a nun as she crossed Kedzie of a recent morn. “Morning, sister,” says me. “Fuck you,” says her.
Nonetheless, WTF intends to remain resiliently happy and upbeat. It’s the best revenge.
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Comments welcome.
Posted on August 11, 2011