The Absurdity of Stephen Hawking's Boycott

It has been reported that Stephen Hawking, the renowned and equally brilliant physicist who authored the bestseller, "A Brief History of Time", has decided to withdraw from the upcoming Presidential Conference in Israel. The Conference attracts some of the most prominent, brilliant and influential people in the world, and is hosted by Shimon Peres, Israel's Nobel Peace Prize winning President. The reason for Hawking's withdrawal is not due to his failing health, which some had reported, but rather due to his protest of Israel's treatment of the Palestinian people. Overnight Hawking has become the most notable academic to boycott the State of Israel, and in turn given credence to a movement which singles out Israel for impropriety in a region awash with moral depravity. According to a statement, Hawking's decision was based on advice from Palestinian academics who advised him to "respect" the boycott. It appears as though 'respect' is very subjective for Hawking, since his 'respect' does not apply to the myriad Israeli academics, as well as Shimon Peres, who have worked tirelessly to reach a peace agreement with the Palestinians. It is nothing less than a shameful decision.

I don't deny that Israel is imperfect. I will not deny that Israel has and continues to commit wrongs against the Palestinian people. The occupation has probably done more harm to Israel's standing in the world than nearly all other Israeli policies combined. We should work hard to end it, through diplomacy and peaceful engagement, creating a long lasting and just agreement, that will last for generations. But boycotting the entire State of Israel and cutting off communication to a State which is home to the only democracy in the Middle East? Is Israel is so terrible that Hawking cannot acknowledge that women, minorities, and homosexuals are afforded more rights in Israel than in any other country in the Middle East or that Israel is a country where freedom of speech allows you to criticize government policy freely, freedoms which don't exist in any other country in the region? What about the fact that Arab women, Muslim and Christian, are allowed to pursue an education, dress how they see fit, and serve in Parliament, all of which can be elusive in every other Arab country?

Maybe Hawking missed those facts. I understand where Hawking is coming from. He is taking a bold stand against oppression and bigotry wherever it may lay, right? He should applaud himself. Too many people stand by idly while others are denied their freedoms. But if Hawking is going to boycott Israel, why stop there? In fact, there is a whole laundry list of countries for Hawking to display his noble and courageous beliefs!

Let's start with Russia. In 2012, Hawking accepted a $3 million prize for his work with black holes from a foundation founded by Russian billionaire Yuri Milner. Milner does business and pays taxes in Russia as well as maintaining contacts with the Russian government. Thus, Hawking should take a bold and courageous stand and return the prize money. Why you ask? Russia maintains a close relationship with Syrian President Bashar al-Assad and has provided weapons and money to the Syrian regime. In fact, Russia has vetoed 3 UN resolutions condemning Assad's brutal crackdown, including vetoing a resolution which plainly condemned Assad's behavior. So while 70,000 (and counting) Syrians have been murdered, Russia has not only sat by watching, but has buttressed a regime which recently used chemical weapons on its own people. But, if that doesn't bother Hawking, then he should look at the lack of press freedom in Russia. According to Reporters Without Borders, Russia ranks 148 out of 179 in the Press Freedom Index. Russian ranks among the worst in prosecuting murders of journalists, and according to the Committee to Protect Journalists, there have been 54 journalists killed since 1992, which ranks just ahead of the 48 killed during the same period in Somalia. Maybe Hawking should take a stand against the rampant election fraud that took place during Russia's most recent election, or the brutal crackdown that followed. Maybe he should complain about the imprisonment of Russian government opposition like Mikhail Khodorkovsky, who has been declared a prisoner of conscience by Amnesty International and has been imprisoned on flimsy charges since 2005. Maybe Hawking should condition his acceptance of Yuri Milner's prize money on the immediate cessation of the trial of Alexei Navalny, an opposition blogger currently facing 10 years in prison. Or maybe not.

How about China? In 2006, Hawking visited China for a conference with hundreds of physicists, speaking to an audience of thousands in Beijing's Great Hall of the People. The speech occurred right in Tiananmen Square where hundreds, and maybe thousands of civilians were murdered by government forces less than 20 years earlier. China imposes a brutal occupation on the people of Tibet, who have protested by self immolating themselves. In 2012, according to Human Rights Watch, 72 Tibetans lit themselves on fire to protest China's rule. China is also a good friend of Russia in the UN. Not only has Russia vetoed three UN resolutions condemning the Syrian regime, but China has joined suit, stating, in defense of its veto, that the resolution was "seriously problematic, with uneven content that is intended to put pressure on only one party". I'm sure the Syrian people would agree. What about the unbearable conditions that Chinese workers must endure, resulting in rampant suicides, which protest the miserable hours and non-existent pay?  But if that doesn't bother Hawking, then he should send a nice note to Liu Xiaobo, who is imprisoned for supporting human rights, or speak to Chen Guangchen, a blind activist, who escaped China to come to the United States out of fear for his life.

But if Hawking really wants to take a stand and show some courage, there is one other country that he should boycott, a country which honored Hawking with the Presidential Medal of Freedom; the great United States of America. If Hawking wishes to support human rights everywhere, then how about he take a trip to Guantanamo Bay where detainees are being force fed through their noses because of  hunger strikes, undertaken to protest being indefinitely detained without trial. Hawking can talk to a man named Khaled El-Masri, a German citizen, who was mistakenly believed to be a terrorist suspect. El-Masri was held by the CIA for four months, tortured and sodomized, and left on the side of the road. Hawking should express his outrage at the invasion of Iraq, which has now killed at least, and likely more, than 100,000 innocent Iraqi civilians. He can even visit Iraq and see the aftermath of the invasion, which has resulted in a huge upsurge in birth defects and deformities, which some have attributed to depleted uranium and white phosphorous used by the United States. And if Hawking chooses to boycott America because of its decision to invade Iraq, then he might want to stay away from his home in England, since it was England who came to the aid of the United States, partnering in the invasion of Iraq. The list goes on.

This movement, to boycott Israel, is a staple of many Palestinian activists as well as those on the far-left fringes of the political spectrum. The movement is loud, but its truculence is the movement's only real asset. There is simply no substance or veracity to any of the movement's charges, which is the main reason it has gained almost no traction in the United States. The biggest proponents of the movement are likely to be found in the Middle East, in which numerous countries do not allow those with Israeli (Jewish Israeli) passports and where the Arab League began boycotting Jewish businesses nearly seven decades ago. It is not fair to call the movement or Stephen Hawking anti-Semitic, but there are certainly elements of the movement whose motivations are dubious at best.

What is so upsetting about Hawking's decision is that it only harms the peace process. A boycott establishes the idea that one side bears responsibility and blame for a set of circumstances, thus establishing Israel as the sole contributor to the plight of the Palestinian people. Hawking appears to have discarded the roles that Arab countries have played in this conflict, refusing to recognize the existence of Israel while perpetuating a cycle of enmity between the two sides. Do the Palestinians bear no blame? Is indiscriminately killing civilians through suicide attacks targeting buses, restaurants, and night clubs not an impediment to peace? Is firing rockets, in an attempt to terrorize and injure as many civilians as possible, something that does not warrant condemnation? The only way to end this conflict is through negotiation and an acceptance of the other's right to exist; two states living peacefully side by side. And as reports surface that Russia is supplying the Syrian regime with advanced cruise missiles, as more and more civilians die every day, Stephen Hawking is nowhere to be found.

The Day Boston Changed Forever

I spent hours sitting on my bed, into the wee hours of Monday night, writing sentence after sentence after sentence. I was trying to determine the best way to start this piece, how best to grab the readers' attention, as if this was like any other piece of writing. I began writing about the unexplainable captivation of Boston. I used the phrases "enigmatic aura" and "mythological stature". I tried to craft a perfect opening and hours later found myself at the same place I started. During the course of that near sleepless Monday night, my emotions swung back and forth, a pendulum of shock, disbelief, sadness, and anger. I simply couldn't write anything down. Each time I did another emotion would surface, drowning out the other. Monday was supposed to be joyous and celebratory. Even from many miles away in Washington D.C. and even though there was no public holiday, I was excited; Marathon Monday in Boston is easily the best day of the year.

It started out like any other Monday. I had class in the morning and then Criminal Law beginning at 1:30 and ending at 2:50. During class I would peek at the Red Sox score, letting out a small and only slightly noticeable fist pump when Mike Napoli hit a game winning double. And as class ended at 2:50, the same time the explosions occurred, the exuberance that lit up my face quickly turned to confusion as the news trickled in. I had planned to meet with a Professor but I rushed home instead, watching the news, attempting to make sense of a nonsensical event. This was so personal, so close to my heart, and the hearts of anyone who has lived or spent time in Boston. This day was, for lack of a better word, sacred.

And then I saw the blast, the horrid video from the finish line, the sound of the explosion, the screaming, the blood, the horror, my feelings so visceral that I couldn't help but gasp. And then I saw the boy, Martin Richard, that young and beautiful child, with a wide smile, big brown eyes, and those pre-braces teeth, the picture of carefree innocence, holding up a sign for peace. The wall holding my emotion quickly crumbled as the salty and bitter tears streamed down my face. I remember sitting in my bed on Monday night, my eyes red and puffy, flinching when I heard the door close, then closing my eyes, reminding myself to breathe. Deep, easy breaths, just one at a time.

Why Boston? Why the Marathon? Why this day? There were simply no answers to the innumerable questions. I have been to the Marathon. I have walked those very streets, the very spots where the explosions occurred, more times than I can count. Sometimes, I would take the train into Back Bay Station, walk down Dartmouth Street, cross Boylston Street at the intersection just a few hundred feet from where the first explosion occurred, continuing on through Newbury Street and its expensive shopping, through Commonwealth Avenue's tree-lined walkway marveling at its pristine beauty, and then crossing over Storrow Drive, to the Esplanade, looking out over the Charles River to Cambridge, watching the sun slowly set. There is little that can top it.

Boston is a city that makes no sense yet makes perfect sense; a city of anomalies and paradoxes. It's a city that is nearly impossible to drive in with its roads appearing to have been designed by a small infant after being given his first coloring book. Its mayor, its stumbling, bumbling, goofball of a human, who can't stand on his feet or pronounce the names of the city's most famous athletes, yet is beloved by the city and  is easily re-elected each time he runs. Its subway system, built 100 years ago, seemingly unchanged or improved, leaving riders pleasantly surprised when it works properly. Its most notorious residents, filled with dropped "r's" and intolerance, ambivalent to outsiders or change, harboring a penchant for alcohol consumption, yet living in the heart and capital of arguably the most tolerant, educated, progressive, and liberal state in the country, home to some of the greatest institutions in the world. Its nightlife, or lack thereof, closing while other cities are just beginning, the subway shutting down just as you are going out, leaving you to find a non-existent cabby who doesn't take credit cards or have a sense of direction. Fenway Park, its beloved baseball stadium, plopped tightly and awkwardly near Kenmore Square, where ticket prices are the highest in the league buying you a seat which fits maybe half of your body, where a pretzel may run you $5, where the bathrooms overflow, and yet you can't help but be transfixed by its ambiance, magic, and transcendent beauty. The history of the city sitting at every street corner, innocuous landmarks quietly hiding in plain sight, reminders of the iconic events in this city's history which helped propel America to independence; The Old North Church, The Boston Tea Party, Bunker Hill, and the other Boston Massacre. I don't know what the Marathon will be like next year, and in the years to come. It will most assuredly never be the same. But there is something about Boston, something I cannot pin-point, something, like the city itself, that I cannot explain, something deep inside me which knows that Boston will refuse to let this affect us.

Many people leave the city when they are young. They may move to New York or, like me, to D.C., where the streets make sense and the public transportation works. But sometimes I think of Boston. I think of the times waiting for the subway at Downtown Crossing on a hot summer day, the smells wafting through the air, hearing the groans from the commuters, as an announcement about mechanical problems delays your departure. I think of shaking my head angrily, sweat trickling down my face, as another commuter knocks into me, seemingly unaware that I was standing there. But one day I will return, and I will sit in Downtown Crossing during that summer day and I will smile. I will smile because I would simply have it no other way. Because just as it's certain I will return, so will Boylston Street, so will this great city, so will Patriots Day, and so will the Marathon. We would have it no other way.

The Obscenity of the NCAA

NCAA President Mark Emmert

Rutgers' Coach Mike Rice

Arizona Coach Sean Miller

Over the past couple days two major stories have emerged from the magical world of College Basketball. First, it was revealed that Ed Rush, the Pac-12 Head of Officiating, told a group of referees he would offer $5000 or a trip to Cancun if they rang up (whistled him for a technical foul) Arizona head coach, Sean Miller. Second, a haunting and disturbing report from Outside the Lines showed Rugters' head coach Mike Rice throwing basketballs and swearing at players during practice. Larry Scott, the Pac-12 commissioner, and Tim Pernetti, Rutgers' Athletic Director, disciplined both men, discipline that allowed both men to keep their job. Rush was reprimanded, which essentially means nothing. Rice was suspended three games earlier this season and fined $50,000, which is essentially nothing. These stories will almost certainly continue to evolve, and if I were to surmise, I would bet that Rutgers, being a public university, will ultimately fire Mike Rice in the coming days, or he will resign. As for Ed Rush, I would say him losing his job is far from a certainty, since the public outcry will be far less vitriolic towards him than to Rice. The people most and almost exclusively offended by Rush are sports fans (and University of Arizona students and alumni) while those offended by Rice include every person on Earth, except for maybe Mel Gibson.

I don't know much about Ed Rush. I do know that Marc Cuban said in 2002 he wouldn't hire Rush to "manage a Dairy Queen".  But up until this controversy I had never heard his name before. But I will not soon forget it. So much is wrong with this situation, I find myself trying to muster some semblance of coherent thought in a feeble attempt to describe my emotions. Am I sad? disappointed? angry? bewildered? shocked? For sports fans, this epitomizes our worst fears. Sports are so special because they are (or are supposed to be) some of the only elements of truth in the world. Sports are not supposed to be affected by the outside world. With all the terrible things we see on the news every day, sport endures as a symbol of fairness and impartiality. May the best man win. Plain and simple. Beauty in its purest form. But sports are not immune to the vices of the outside world. So when those tasked with overseeing the impartiality of the game, the referees, compromise the integrity of the game, the anger that results is often impassioned and fierce. After all a referee is "an official who watches a game or a match closely to ensure that the rules are adhered". Ed Rush has not just compromised the integrity of the game, he has destroyed it. The first action should have been his immediate dismissal, yet almost as shocking as the comments themselves, Larry Scott, the Pac-12 commissioner, has not fired Rush. Instead Scott decided to speak about the situation and made some of the most perplexing comments I have ever heard.

Scott said, among other things, that he did not find a "breach of ethics or integrity in the officiating program" and that there was "nothing individual about Sean Miller in all of this". Really Larry? What Ed rush said was ethical? If there was no breach of integrity, would you say that this incident has espoused confidence in Pac-12 officiating? Does this behavior embody the rectitude that is expected of Pac-12 officiating? What planet is Larry Scott on? What occurred is actually the opposite of Ed Rush's job description. His job is to oversee the officials to ensure the integrity and impartiality of the game remains. I'm not sure how Ed Rush could have fucked up worse. It's like a doctor who makes a patient sicker or a teacher who makes a student dumber. And then to say that Sean Miller wasn't targeted? Sean Miller received a technical foul, his first of the entire season for telling the official that his player "touched the ball". The question we need to ask is whether Sean Miller receives this technical in any other situation. I think the answer is emphatically, no. And while Scott admitted the comments were inappropriate, he in essence excused them by saying they were simply made "in jest". Does that even matter? At the time of the technical there was 4:37 left in the game. Mark Lyons was called for a double dribble, which was the incorrect call, as the defender touched the ball. Miller protested and received a technical. UCLA made two free throws. UCLA would win the game by two points. Ed Rush's comments affected the outcome of the game. Even Larry Scott is dumb enough to know basic math, I think.

 Mike Rice is another name I had never heard of until yesterday. I guess that's what happens when you are the basketball coach at Rutgers. Earlier in the basketball season, in mid-December, Rice was suspended for three games and fined $50,000 for what were, at the time, unknown offenses. The reality of that suspension came to light yesterday when Outside the Lines released video of Rice throwing basketballs at players and berating them with offensive slurs. The video is shocking and thus explains why Rutgers acted so surreptitiously during the initial suspension. The Rutgers A.D. said at the time, "there was obviously some things that are not to the Rutgers' standard that we evaluated and decided upon". Really? How about some things not up to the human standard? Mike Rice called his players pussies, bitches, cunts, motherfuckers, and faggots. He threw a ball at one of his players' heads. He aggressively put his hands on players, pushing and grabbing them. A college basketball coach is an educator and a role model, who is charged with setting an example for impressionable 18-22 year old young men, many of whom lack a strong familial structure. Not only does he fail that test, he might not even meet the criteria for world's worst dad. But as seems the tradition in NCAA athletics, those in charge seem to be the one's most in need of edification, like Rutgers A.D. Tim Pernetti.

Pernetti was interviewed on Outside the Lines and was pressed on the leniency of the discipline. Pernetti mentioned that the tape shown was not a full representation and that it is important to look at those incidents in full context. Might I inquire as to what context you are referring to? Because there is no place whatsoever for that type of behavior on a basketball court. Ever. But most bewildering was Pernetti's logic that this was simply a first offense. Maybe if you add up every incident together it was a first offense. Rice didn't simply hurl one ball at a player's head or call one player a pussy, he did it over and over and over again. According to the report, at least three players transferred due to his actions, and one player, Gilvydas Biruta, who is from Lithuania, was called a "Lithuanian faggot". Maybe if you took one of those incidents such as throwing a ball once, or yelling an epithet once, I would consider it a first offense. But not this. This is multiple offenses that Pernetti rolled into one to support his morally reprehensible penalty. Three games? $50,000? To put that in context, Shabazz Muhammad missed three games for accepting impermissible benefits ranging from $500-$700 during recruiting trips. And Mike Rice makes approximately $700,000, so $50,000 is approximately 1/14th of his salary. Sounds fair to me.

The bigger picture regarding both of these stories is the same pervasive themes that has led to the inexorable decline of the NCAA and its credibility. Players simply don't matter. They mean nothing. And it literally gets shoved into our faces over and over again. Those stupid NCAA commercials which show how the NCAA is always there for its pawns student-athletes. While the NCAA signs huge contracts, like the one in 2010 for 10.8 Billion (no, that is not a typo), its players are held at the mercy of coaches who are free to leave their university on a whim (it's usually for more money). Because when Gilvydas Biruta was called a "Lithuanian faggot" the only fair thing to do would be to make him sit out a year, which he did. While Mike Rice sat out three games, Birutas sat out the entire season. Seems logical, right? But logic means nothing to the NCAA. Remember Mike Leach? The Texas Tech football coach who put his player in an electrical closet. After being fired Leach signed a deal with Washington State which paid him over 2 Million Dollars per year. Naturally, he was accused of abusing his players in his first season at Washington State. There has been reported abuse all over the country. Just last month, University of Utah swim coach, Greg Winslow, was told his contract would not be renewed after allegations surfaced of sexual abuse, along with claims that the University did not do enough to protect its players from the abuse. The list goes on.

Scandals in collegiate athletics have become as ubiquitous as the competitions themselves. Players are helpless as they are left with nowhere to turn, while coaches and administrators are left accountable to no one. The truth is that in a month we will forget about Ed Rush and Mike Rice. No one will remember Larry Scott or Tim Pernetti. But I can assure you, with the utmost certainty, the scandals will continue. The names will be different. The stories will change, but only slightly; the idea is the same. The coaches with their exorbitant salaries will become more indispensable, and the players more inconsequential. The NCAA ostensibly represents the body which protects players but any action by the NCAA starts and ends with the movement of their lips. At the end of the NCAA's new March Madness commercial they say, "just know we're always there for student-athletes". And then something caught my glance outside the window. I looked quickly to see a pig flying through the air.


Editors Note** Mike Rice was fired this morning (4/3). I guess I can see into the future.**

Lance Armstrong and Manti T'eo

Wow. The only reaction that seems to come out of my mouth is Wow. Within a week, two (formerly) beloved stars of their respective sports have been embroiled in preposterous and staggering lies; their stories erupting in a volcano of deceit and moral depravity. There have been many famous sports scandals from the 1919 Black Sox to Penn St. and Jerry Sandusky. However, what sets these two apart, more so than others, is the nature in which their stories (and ultimately their lies) were used to further the mythological stature each of these two men shared. The lies became part of their narrative: Lance Armstrong as the Cancer survivor resisting the use of performance enhancing drugs, becoming a beacon of light in a darkened sport; Manti Te'o as the All American Linebacker overcoming unspeakable tragedy to lead "America's" Team to a perfect regular season. Both men created an intricate and inexhaustible web, a web which ultimately left them trapped in their own hand-spun artifices. In the end, lies can only last so long.

Yet, there is something that strikes you with Armstrong and Te'o, in different ways. For Lance it is the astonishing length at which he clouded the world's view of him, disparaging others (a list so large there was no one left to defend him) and even filing lawsuits, and winning, against those who had the courage to speak the truth. Lance went on camera time and time again, to reassure the world that the newest teammate or competitor claiming he used PEDs was a manipulative liar, bent on destroying him and his sterling reputation solely out of some form of retribution (he was actually talking about himself). We wanted to believe Lance Armstrong. We wanted to believe that his incredible story was pure and true; it was too perfect, too inspirational, too amazing, too unbelievable. What about those yellow bracelets? And the Foundation which he founded that has raised nearly 500 Million Dollars for Cancer research? What it is so mind-boggling about Lance is that, in the end, the steroid use won't be what spawns our hatred of him. It is the incessant lying to our face over and over and over again. Not for days or weeks, months or a couple years, but for a decade. The vitriol directed at the likes of Mark McGwire or Alex Rodriguez for their steroid use will pale in comparison to the hatred that will follow Lance in the years ahead.  In a world where nothing is what it seems, Lance Armstrong embodied the best the human spirit had to offer. And in one fell swoop he has shown us the worst. Or so we thought. Enter: Manti Te'o.

Te'o is less cut and dry at this moment. He has not confessed to orchestrating an elaborate hoax. In fact, he released a statement claiming he was the victim. His Athletic Director, Jack Swarbrick, was teary-eyed at a press conference defending the star linebacker. Yet, I find little comfort in his claim that he is a victim. Maybe, just maybe, he could plead ignorance. Maybe he can claim that he didn't know; that he actually thought he was in love with this imaginary person. Maybe he can tell us how it would be nonsensical to devise such an elaborate scheme, and maybe, like Lance Armstrong, he will buttress his claim with the sterling reputation that precedes him. I simply do not believe him. It is eerily reminiscent of college football titan, Joe Paterno, who owned a similarly impeccable reputation as Te'o does. Paterno claimed he didn't know what was happening for so many years. Paterno claimed no viable information was presented to him to warrant taking real action (other than telling his superior), such as telling the police or ensuring Sandusky never set foot on the Penn St. campus again. T'eo will find himself in a similar predicament. Either he was complicit or simply kept his eyes shut. Might I ask why after "her" death, he didn't meet with "her" family or attend any funeral services? Yes, he claims that "she" told him not to attend the funeral, but why not travel after the funeral and mourn with the family? Why not visit "her" grave after the funeral? Why do absolutely nothing following "her" death? Did "she" issue a directive that Te'o could not meet "her" family after the death? Did I mention "her" funeral supposedly took place in Carson, California, which is an astonishing twenty minutes driving from USC, where Te'o played about a month after "her" death? Would Brian Kelly have said "no" if Te'o asked for a couple hours to spend with his "girlfriend's" family? I think not. And what about the fact that he claimed he met "her"? Or that his father, Brian, claimed they would meet in Hawaii? Did someone really take the incalculable time and effort to create and perpetuate a lie of this magnitude, which would include paying a girl to talk every night with Te'o? Am I to believe Manti Te'o, who is smart enough to play middle linebacker (the play caller on defense) at Notre Dame, as well as graduating in 3.5 years with a major in Design and a 3.3 GPA, is not smart enough to figure out something may be a little fishy? Just as Lance used his lies to perpetuate his narrative, Te'o did the same. Te'o grabbed our hearts and put them in a choke hold. We became captivated by the story of a young man, overcoming unbelievable tragedy to lead Notre Dame back to its former glory. He had a sterling reputation not just as a football player, but as a man.

Lance will go on Oprah today and confess his sins and admit wrongdoing. But don't let him fool you. This was not some noble gesture by Lance acting out of the goodness of his heart. When the damning report from USADA was presented a few months ago, Lance was defiant. His lawyer attacked the credibility of the report (there were 26 sworn statements, including 15 from cyclists, against Lance) claiming it was a "tabloid piece". When the Tour de France stripped him of his titles, he tweeted a picture of himself lounging on a couch with the seven yellow jerseys he won with the caption, "Back in Austin and just layin' around..." The arrogance is palpable, coming from a man who actively lied for a decade about his steroid use. It takes a special breed to come back from Cancer and win the Tour de France seven times. It also takes a special breed to lie in such a manipulative fashion while still being able to rest your head at night; I'm not sure which is more remarkable.

The true story of Manti Te'o will come to the forefront, as it did with Lance Armstrong. Secrets, in this information age, only stay secrets for so long. When the whole story comes out, a very different picture of Manti Te'o will emerge, and I can guarantee the negative feelings we harbor toward Lance will permeate our thoughts of Manti Te'o. In the end, we are left to ponder if there is ever any truth in this world. There may be none, except for one thing: nothing is ever what it seems.

A Second Look at the Second Amendment

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if an alien, from another world with the same general intellectual capacity as humans, were to come to Earth to stay at my house. How would it react to the tragic shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School. What would that alien think about our gun laws? Or the incessant violence as a result of our guns laws? Or the reaction by politicians and pundits on both sides? What would a completely blank slate, not swayed by the rhetoric coming from every angle of our society about guns, think about the proper way to take action after this tragedy? I think we can all be certain that the answer would not be more guns; unfortunately we don't have aliens making decisions in our country, although we might be better off if that were the case. The closest we have to aliens are every other developed, industrialized country in the world whose deaths from gun violence are morphed by the great United States. Yet, even with all of the information we have gleaned from European countries which includes, but is not limited to, our entire legal system, automobiles, art, science, and mathematics, it seems information on gun control from Europe need not apply.

There is something fundamentally wrong with our society when many consider the upcoming battle for gun control an uphill one, which will be met with powerful, passionate, and fierce opposition. How can you not favor, after such a brutal slaughter of innocence, a complete overhaul or at least a drastic change in our current system? How can some people, even elected representatives, claim that more guns are needed to keep our children safe? In the wake of these frighteningly common shootings, the answers which seem so simple and common-sense, become more evasive and implausible.

What is so disheartening and downright mind boggling at times, is the logic of those proponents of expansive interpretations of the Second Amendment, like the one held by the NRA. The Second Amendment is very subjective; in fact the current interpretation of the Second Amendment is a new phenomenon, which only began a few decades ago. The NRA essentially turned guns into a political fight. A fight against less government, which has allowed for private citizens to buy and own some of the deadliest weapons on Earth, at ease. The common theme among those in this group, is that guns are used to prevent crime, and if someone had possessed a gun during the tragic shooting, deaths could have been prevented. In other words, more armed citizens will help to prevent crime.  It suffices to say this logic is absurd, but it isn't the reasoning that is most problematic, but rather the underlying belief behind the reasoning. The disturbing aspect is that those who make such outrageous comments, make a subtle admission that these events are unavoidable. In essence, they are saying that shootings are going to happen, and we must arm ourselves so that in the event something like this occurs, we can protect ourselves. Bad people do bad things, and there is nothing we can do about it. This acceptance of the consequences of the Second Amendment, are consequences I am unwilling to accept. Why should I? Why don't we simply eliminate the threat all together, by doing what every other developed country has already done; placing severe restrictions on private gun ownership. Why should I accept that shootings at schools will invariably occur, and the only way to prevent more casualties is to have the teachers armed? Why not enact laws that make it so the guns can't be acquired in the first place? This, of course, would render the Second Amendment a shell of its current from. But if that saved someone's life, like the life of a child, wouldn't you do it in a heartbeat?

This goes to the core of the fight over gun control. It is an issue of framing the argument, and those who favor gun control have done an extremely poor job. The NRA is very wealthy and very well organized. They have done a tremendous job at advancing their views of the Second Amendment; using politicians to ensure gun legislation is not passed. There is no organization on the other side that even compares in scope and effectiveness to the NRA. What gun-control advocates must come to terms with is that the changes that are being proposed should be the starting point, not the end. Banning assault rifles, tightening regulations, and providing better access to mental health facilities will help, but will not cure the problem. There must be an understanding that the modern day Second Amendment interpretation has failed. It doesn't work. More guns does not mean more safety. If we want to save lives, allowing unfettered access to any gun must be abolished. We must rid ourselves of this notion that every law-abiding citizen has the right to privately own a gun. If you don't want mass shootings then that is the truth we must accept. Providing more guns to law-abiding citizens, on a rare occasion, may save someone's life, but it will never fix the bigger issue. There is a clear choice to be made. If the NRA wishes to continue its quest for a nation of bountiful guns, they must also accept that there will shootings in malls, houses of worship, and in schools. The two go hand in hand. It will be impossible to drastically reduce our gun fatalities if the system doesn't change. If the Second Amendment provides the right to keep and bear arms, don't children, who are not allowed to possess a gun, have rights too? Children are at the mercy of the adults who make decisions. We are the ones who determine the life we want our kids to live; it is a grave duty we hold. Thus we must choose: guns or our children. The two are mutually exclusive. We cannot have both. It is a solemn promise, but if gun laws do not undergo a drastic change and overhaul, more children will be killed by guns.

Imagine that the alien who came to Earth to stay with you was curious about America and started asking questions about guns. Imagine you told the alien that Sandy Hook was not the first time, or even the second time something like this had happened. Imagine if you told the alien that in the past 6 months alone, there was a shooting at a mall that killed two people, a shooting a Sikh temple that killed 6 people, and a shooting a movie theater that killed 12. Imagine the alien's shock and disbelief. Then you can tell it that in 1999, 13 people were murdered in a school shooting and that in 2007, 32 people were murdered in a school shooting. And then you can mention that 6 people, including a nine year old girl, were killed outside a grocery store; an attack which left a United States congresswoman with a bullet wound to her head. Imagine the alien's reaction when you told the alien that the gun used to kill 20 children was the civilian version of the M-16, a gun used by soldiers in war zones. You can describe to the alien that the bullets in the gun fragment inside the body and cause devastating internal injuries, which is why they are used by soldiers to kill enemy combatants. The next day the alien is gone. You wonder where he went and you find a note he has left for you. "I have left the United States and returned to my planet. I feel much safer there."

Hating LeBron

Why Game 6 Validated Our Hatred

LeBron James has been under more scrutiny than any other athlete in the history of American sports. Since James has been able to drive, he has endured an inhumane level of scrutiny that has left an indelible mark on him. Imagine how difficult it must be (in fact there is no need to imagine since it is impossible) to live a normal life with that level of scrutiny. At 18, when he was in High School he was actually suspended for receiving two free jerseys. In High School!  How big must the microscope have been, for an 18 year old to be suspended for not saying no when he was offered two sports jerseys? How insane is that?

There are a couple of reasons why the scrutiny has been so great. The first and most obvious reason is that basketball is more individualized than any other major sport. Football is the ultimate team sport, and stars play on only side of the ball, so you may only see them half of the game. In addition, every play is dependent on another. During any given play, so many factors must be perfectly in place or the play breaks down. If the receiver runs the wrong route that quarterback cannot thrown him the ball and if he does run the right route, and the left tackle misses his assignment, the play breaks down anyways. Baseball players, depending on position are involved intermittently. Starting pitchers pitch once every five games, and relievers you may only see for one inning. Position players will likely bat 4-5 times a game, 1 out of every 9 total at bats. However, in basketball the factors don't change. The weather is always the same as is the ball, and the hoop never moves. You don't need to worry about receivers or offensive linemen. Players play offense and defense, and can theoretically play an entire game. LeBron can hold the fate of the game directly in his hands. He can single-handedly do more to effect the outcome than in any other sport (See Game 6). The control lies solely with that individual player on a daily basis in basketball, more so than any other sport.

The other reason, unfortunately has nothing to with sports, but rather with the world LeBron grew up in. There are two major factors, both of which,  are in some fashion related to each other. The Internet and Television News. Technological advances were sweeping the country in the early 2000s, and soon the world would become more connected than ever before. The advent of social media, Facebook, Twitter and YouTube coincided almost directly with his emergence as a young NBA star. Now, when something occurs, regardless of how inconsequential it may be, the video is on YouTube. Everyone is talking about it on Facebook. Everyone is Tweeting about it. And every blog is writing about it. And that is all within a few minutes. And You can access the information regardless of where you are. You don't need to wait for your dial-up on your home computer to boot up. Instead, you can just look at your IPhone or IPad or MacBook, which can all be accessed at any location. So, you can be at a wedding in Texas, and know instantaneously what happened in Boston 10 minutes earlier, just by looking at your phone. Amazing.

There is also the 24 hour news cycle, where grabbing the attention of a viewer became the main focus, rather than substantive reporting. News had always had sensationalist aspects, but because news is everywhere, all the time, so is the sensationalism. At one point, many years ago, you had the news in the morning, and then would wait until the next morning for more news. Now, you get the news every hour, on the hour. Now, many news organizations have simply abandoned being balanced. If they can appeal to a base, just like any other commercial product, why report both sides, when reporting to one side is more profitable? News is about catching your eye, not holding your attention, where every movement and every word becomes overly and unnecessarily scrutinized. These two aspects of our world are now constantly intertwined, enlarging the microscope LeBron has been under since 16. In essence, LeBron has been caught up in a perfect storm. A storm that the other greats of the NBA never went through. Larry and Magic never had to deal with anything close and Jordan got out right before it started. This is a new phenomenon, a giant social experiment, and LeBron has been our guinea pig.
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There have been many child prodigies throughout the years. Some pan out, others do not. LeBron was one of them. He was a magnificent High School basketball star. His perfectly chiseled body seemed to have been constructed by Michaelangelo himself. His stunning athleticism brought competitors to their knees, and fans into shock. He became a mythical figure, playing among mere mortals, effortlessly gliding along while everyone else was trying to stay two steps behind. And this was all when he was 18. His games were shown on ESPN and dissected by experts. During his senior year, against the #1 team in the country, Oak Hill, he scored 31, added 13 rebounds, and had 6 assists. The game was on ESPN, announced by Dan Shulman, Dick Vitale, and Bill Walton. The post game interview was conducted by Jay Bilas. It was a spectacle and a circus at the same time. An outrageous display of exploitation, but we loved it nonetheless. Yet at that time he was only another High School prodigy. A possible superstar. Someone with a chance to be great. We would soon find out, when he entered the NBA draft in 2003, directly out if High School, and was subsequently drafted #1 by the Cleveland Cavaliers.

While it is important to understand his High School years, 2003 was the beginning of his real career, the one which would ultimately define him. He did it in High School, but lots of players had; the real test was in the NBA. And there were many doubters, many who said an 18 year old couldn't compete at a high level, with NBA players. LeBron did not disappoint. In his first NBA game he had 25 points, 9 assists, 6 rebounds, and 4 steals, while shooting 60% from the field. The Cavs would improve by 18 games that season, fueled solely by LeBron considering the next four high scorers were Zydrunas Ilgauskas, young Carlos Boozer, Jeff McInnis and Eric Williams. He would win Rookie of the Year, averaging 20.9 points, 5.9 assists, and 5.5 rebounds a game. He lived up to impossible expectations, and made us believe that we were witnessing greatness. He made us believe that we were witnessing the future, greatest of all time.

LeBron would continue to improve, culminating in the transcendent performance in the 2007 Eastern Conference Finals against the Detroit Pistons during Game 5, where he scored 48 points, including the final 25 for the Cavs. And he was only 23. This would be a turning point. Following this performance we saw greatness. We saw a player that was the best, and that at his best, was simply better than everyone else. He gave us a glimpse of what the greatest player of all time could possibly look like. In a twisted sense, he spoiled us. If he can be that good, why not be that good all the time? We love seeing greatness, and this young man embodied it. We wanted more. And he gave us more. In game 7 of the 2008 Eastern Conference Semi-finals, he scored 45 points, had 6 rebounds, and 5 assists, yet still lost to the eventual champion Boston Celtics. The Cavaliers roster was so atrocious though that there was sympathy for LeBron. The starting five that year for the Cavaliers, was LeBron James, old Ben Wallace, Zydrunas Ilgauskas, Wally Sczerbiak, and Delonte West. Ouch. He was still well-liked by NBA fans and losing was simply a product of his team, rather than his performance. The next season LeBron would win the MVP, having arguably his best season to date, but would lose to the Orlando Magic in the Conference Finals, leading him into the season, and the game, that would alter his career forever.
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In the 2009-10 season Cleveland made a last ditch effort to help LeBron with a supporting cast. There were rumors flying that he would depart in free agency after the season and there was an effort to give him an inside presence, which arrived in the form of 37 year old Shaquille O'Neal. LeBron would win another MVP and lead the Cavs to the leagues best regular season record. The Cavaliers would face the Boston Celtics again in the Conference Semi-Finals; a series which altered every thought we ever had about LeBron James.

With the series tied 2-2, the Cavs were in a must-win.  They were at home and the stage was set for LeBron to put up another transcendent performance. With free agency looming, there was a chance that this could be his last game in a Cavaliers uniform at home. In a best of seven series, the team that wins game 5, wins the series over 80% of the time. Everything was on the line.

LeBron shot 3-14, scoring 15 points. He was terrible. He seemed timid and scared, and worse than that he seemed indifferent. He appeared to act as if it was just another game, a pick-up game with friends, not a game with such important implications, implications that could alter and ultimately did alter, his career. The criticism was enormous. For someone who had almost everything right his whole career, he was torn apart for one poorly played game. But many forget, he would have a triple double in game 6 scoring 27,  grabbing 19 boards, and dishing 10 assists, and they still lost.

That spoiled attitude came out after that series. The greatness we had witnessed against the Pistons in 2007 was long forgotten. We wanted it back, and we didn't get it and we turned on him. We turned on him because he couldn't live up, for the first time, to our impossible expectations. Want to know what he averaged in the series in 2010, the final one in his career for the Cavaliers? 26.8 points. 7 assists. 9 rebounds. Not bad, huh? But because he wasn't the greatest player ever, he was not just a failure, but a complete failure. He was nothing. And things went from bad to worse.

We all know what happened next. While we were mad at LeBron for his game 5 performance, that anger would soon turn to hate. His basketball play was always questioned but his character wasn't. The Decision changed that. We went from being disappointed to actively hating him. Everyone hated him. If you weren't a Heat fan, you hated him. If you were an asshole and proud of it, you hated him, because he made even assholes look good. It was repugnant, vile, and despicable; effectively tearing the hearts out from every Cavaliers fan, and then stomping on them afterwards for good measure. LeBron was their Jesus. He had come down to save the most tortured sports city in America. Cleveland would finally find salvation, and LeBron would bring it. Imagine, then if actual Jesus arrived as the Messiah. Imagine the excitement for Christians. It would validate everything they've believed in and provide them with what they've been longing for. Imagine then, after a few years, Jesus made an announcement, saying he had actually made a wrong turn, and that he was in the wrong place, and he would actually be going to another planet. How would every Christian feel? Well, that is the feeling every Cavalier feeling had on the fateful day he departed for Miami.

But it didn't end there. Then, he had a welcome party. He acted as if the Heat had already been crowned. He promised championships, not one, not two, not three...He seemed like a genuinely bad person, and it had nothing to do with basketball. It was a haunting display of arrogance, reserved for the most egotistical people. And we, understandably so, hated him for it. And we hated him because he went to Miami. We wanted him to be different and special. We wanted to shape him and form him into the mythical creature we saw in High School. We were selfish. We wanted to make him into what we wanted to see, and for that reason we hated that he went to Miami. We felt it was the easy way out, that the greatest ever doesn't join forces with two superstars in a city more known for Cocaine than Basketball. At least go to New York or Chicago. Anything but Miami.

His Miami tenure has been marred by times where it appeared he shied away in big moments, especially in the Mavericks series in 2011, criticism which is certainly fair. He seemed to never want the last shot, and instead would hide in the corner. We hated it. We hated it because in addition to not living up to expectations on the court, he was now disliked for his "decision(s)" off it. But, most of all we hated it, because we saw wasted talent. We saw someone, who could take over games, and chose not to. We knew he could be better, and we knew he could score 40 a game, but we felt as if he decided not to. And we were hurt.

And Game 6 validated our feelings. The lead up was enormous. Many said this was a defining moment of his career. If he didn't come through, his legacy would be affected forever. The pressure was enormous and it was on the biggest stage. The performance was transcendent. 45 points, including 30 in the first half. He shot 19/26 and was unstoppable. Absolutely, unequivocally unstoppable. From the first minute, his facial expression did not change. He was stone faced. He meant business. He was going to score and score at will. And from the first minute everyone knew it. The Heat knew it, the Celtics knew it, the Garden knew it, the announcers knew it, and LeBron knew it. It was beautiful. And even though I was rooting for the Celtics, there is a certain type of excitement a fan gets, that is equal to your team winning, when you watch greatness unfold. It is a different type of excitement, but the excitement level is the same.

It was the LeBron we knew and loved, and the LeBron we wanted him to be. And while I loved watching the performance, I hated him for it. I hated him because there was this feeling that consumed me, that made me feel as if he could do that every single game. Every single game, he could go out there, with that stone faced look and dominate. Maybe not to the degree we saw in Game 6, but something that exuded the level of helplessness every Celtics player, coach and fan felt watching that game. On any given night, LeBron, can simply destroy an opposing team. Why don't you do that every game, LeBron? Why!?!?! Nobody else on planet Earth can come close to what LeBron did last night. Nobody. And he seemed to do it at will. He reminded us of what could have been, and what can be in the future. And maybe, just maybe, like his Rookie season, or the 2007 Pistons series, or The Decision, this game, can alter his career again. Maybe he'll dominate Game 7, lead the Heat to a championship and be the player we wanted him to be. Or maybe he'll shy away again and the Celtics will get the better of LeBron one more time. And that's why we hate him. We hate him because we don't know what he'll do next. We hate him because he can't do what he did in Game 6 every single night. Even when he wins, he loses. So what should he do next?

The Patriots Heartache: The last 9:24...

It was Deja Vu. And it was remarkably similar. A final drive, an amazing catch by a receiver most (including Bill Belichick) people overlooked, and a game that Patriots fans feel they gave away. This wasn't 2008 but the feeling is the same, except the reaction has been more vitriolic, more painful, especially for those who have watched this team since 2001, when they shocked the St. Louis Rams, catapulting Tom Brady to superstardom. Why has the reaction been so overwhelming for Patriots fans? Why have people attacked Belichick and Brady so relentlessly, while being even harsher on Wes Welker, who has been nothing short of spectacular since becoming a Patriot? It is a mysterious and unknown feeling for us right now here in Boston. We are used to being the losers, enduring the heartbreak, but this particular loss hit a vein in everybody's heart and caused an uproar, reminiscent of a Tahrir Square, not Boston, MA.

I'll start about three weeks ago today.

It is Sunday morning, actually afternoon here in Israel, just a few hours before the AFC Championship. I begin to read a few pieces about the potential matchups for the Super Bowl. The Patriots, heavily favored, after throttling the Broncos, are supposedly ripe and ready for a rematch with the Giants. Many will say that Pats fans want the Giants, in order to avenge the loss in 2008. I disagree. I believe in looking at things with a pragmatic, objective approach. The Giants terrify me. I'd much rather play Alex Smith and the inexperienced 49ers. A Super Bowl ring is a Super Bowl ring. I didn't care if we beat the Giants. I wanted a 4th championship and the 49ers were the easiest route. Plain and simple. And sure enough, it was Pats v. Giants in Super Bowl XLVI.

I began the longest two weeks of my life fretting about the outcomes for Super Bowl XLVI. Could David Tyree come back for the final drive and snag a football pinning it against his left knee setting up a game-winning touchdown? I had nightmares for those 14 days almost every night. I began to have indigestion and heart palpitations. I couldn't hold a conversation without spacing out and peering into the distance, as if I spotted a field goal post. I was terrified because this was all or nothing. It wouldn't have been the case with the 49ers, but with the Giants it was a different story. Brady and Belichick would be 0-2 against Coughlin and Eli. Eli would cement his legacy while Brady would be take a step back. It was New York v. Boston. Everything on the line.

In Israel there are two major differences that made watching Super Bowl XLVI even more treacherous. First, the weekend is Friday and Saturday and the first day of work is Sunday, rather than Monday. So, I had to endure a full day of work on Sunday, rather than waking up late, watching a few hours of pre-game and getting right into the game. Second, is the time difference. Israel is 7 hours ahead so the start time was 1:30am. So, not only did I have a day of work, I also had to wait pretty much all night, twiddling my thumbs, waiting for the game to start. As the hours wore on Sunday, I felt an uneasiness I had never felt before. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't eat or move. I was a vegetable more or less. I started chain smoking, hoping it could calm my nerves. It didn't, but I kept trying.

At around 1:28am, two minutes before start time, I took my seat in a crowded Tel Aviv apartment, to watch the spectacle. It should also be noted that Israeli's don't care about the Super Bowl. Everyone is pretty much asleep, and the only people who were up were Americans.

And we're off! And...safety. Are you fuckin kidding me? Safety? In all fairness, it was a good call, and Brady is surely to blame but could it have started any worse? Then touchdown Giants. 9-0. Okay, now I'm unable to control my bodily functions. Solid drive and a field goal. Then, a tremendous drive to end the half. 10-9. Okay. Feeling better. I need a cigarette. Touchdown to start the drive. 17-9. Two field goals by the Giants. 17-15.

And now lets go into a little more detail. 9:24 remaining. Up by two, starting on the New England 8 yard line. We can ice the game right here. This is where Brady makes his money. Best in the world. Every New England fan is thinking the same thing. Don't give that ball back to Eli with a chance to win. End it right now. This is the drive of all drives. At the same time, we're all sweating profusely, thinking about every possible scenario that could occur over the next 9 minutes and 24 seconds. David Tyree, I see you on the sideline. Don't fuckin do anything stupid. This was where everything always seemed to go right for the Patriots. From the Snow Bowl game, to the two game winning drives in 2002 and 2004, to Philadelphia using terrible clock management, we always found a way to win. Bring back the magic Tom. Please, we're begging you.

3rd and 5. Danny Woodhead 19 yards. HUGE play. Keep moving that football. 2nd and 7. Wes Welker for 11 yards to the New England 46 yard line. Don't be too confident, we're close, but not there yet. 3rd and 3. Time ticking away. 4 yards to Aaron Hernandez to the Giants 43 yard line. Time dipping under 5 minutes. 2nd and 11. The Giants look disheveled and confused. Snap comes with 4:06 to play. Brady immediately looks to his left. Solid pocket. He appears decisive, looping a tight spiral about 20 yards down the field, a few yards from the sideline. He's open. Holy Shit. He's open. And...Fuck. My eyes become big and I wait for the replay. He dropped it. It was right in his hands and he dropped it. My stomach drops and then turns and then explodes and falls out of my body. I feel like we lost, and that this will come back and bite us. There is an eerie silence in the apartment, combined with incoherent mumbling, and whispering. Nobody knows what to say next. The game moves on. 3rd and 11. Convert and all is forgotten. Under 4 minutes. Brady drops back. Plenty of time. Too much time. Great pocket. A laser over the middle to Deion Branch. Broken up. 4th down. The uneasiness has returned. 2008 all over again. We had it and we lost it. This can't be happening. The doubt creeps in and stays in. I started praying to things I know don't exist. The world is falling before my eyes. First play from the 11, 3:46 to play. The first fuckin play. Manningham for 38. It's over. I know it. Deep down I know it, but I'm praying for a miracle. Manningham reels off 16 more on 2nd and 10 from the 50. Nicks for another 14 yards to the 18. Back breaker. Field goal range. They'll run out the clock and the hours on my life. Bradshaw falls into the endzone. A small break. A sign maybe? God, you there? 57 seconds. Drop by Branch, with room to run. Drop by Hernandez. Sack. Fuck. 4th and 16. It's over. I'm preparing my escape. The heart is barely flickering. First down Branch! Out of bounds. First down Hernandez. Two incomplete passes, and a too many men on the field penalty. One heave to the end zone. A prayer from essentially mid-field. A Hail-Mary. Listen, God. If you're still there. I know I'm a Jew, but I'm perfectly okay with the Virgin Mary. I'll convert to Catholicism. Anything. Just complete this pass for me. Brady drops back, ducks a man, gets some time, and heaves it. The ball is paralyzed in mid-air. Frozen as if the sky had suddenly turned to ice. I see Gronk and Hernandez down there. Please God. Please. My heart jumps and then sputters. Did he catch it? Incomplete. Game over. Shut off the TV. I head to the door and rest my head on it. It happened again. Utter and complete devastation. I aged 30 years in 3 hours.

It's 5am Israel time and I'm not tired. I don't want to sleep. I can't help thinking of what could have been. The miscues and the missed fumbles. The lucky breaks for the Giants and the inability to convert for the Patriots. Fire everyone. Gut the organization. I hate them. They don't care. Emotions after a game like that, combined with zero sleep are fierce and unintelligible. I have work in a few hours. I call my Israeli cousins and ask to stay with them. I can't interact with anyone who knows anything about American football. I spend 48 hours reading and thinking, trying to forget about the game. I cannot. It sticks with me. I begin questioning my life. I wonder if I'll ever watch football again, and whether sports are healthy for me. Should I give them up? Maybe I should. Should I travel the world? There's so much I haven't seen. I hate Giants fans. I think I'll become a Rabbi. It is because I don't believe in you, God? Is this why you're punishing me? Is it because I had a bacon cheeseburger in Israel? Why! I finally return home Wednesday night, about 2 1/2 days following the conclusion of the game. I'm wearing the same clothes from the Super Bowl. I haven't shaved and I appear homeless. I don't leave my room except to pee, poop, or eat. I have new roomates, but I can't interact with them. Thursday is a little better. I feel refreshed. I go to work in the afternoon and begin to show signs of a smile. A small one, but a smile. Thursday night is also the biggest night to go out in Israel. I head into Tel Aviv to drown away my sorrows in 10 dollar Arak, a liquor found in the Middle East, that tastes one part licorice and one part armpit. I forget my sorrows and my night, and that brings us to today. Friday. 5 days removed from that fateful day. How can we evaluate, objectively, the outcome, and the reaction in Boston that followed. I'll try my best.

Immediately following the game, the blame poured out. There was no solace. No feeling of pride. Just agony. And after a game such as this, a scapegoat is needed. The initial target was Wes Welker. He was bombarded by many, who put the loss squarely on his small but sturdy shoulders. The drop, which occurred late in the 4th quarter and could have put the game away, became a symbol overnight of a failed victory. Wes Welker, who caught 122 balls amassing over 1,500 yards, while being the perfect symbol of "The Patriot Way" was all of a sudden a vilified failure. While his catch certainly could have sealed the game, why so much animosity towards a guy who has done nothing but good things since his arrival in 2007? This wasn't Bill Buckner in 1986. He dropped a pass, that was poorly thrown, with over 4 minutes left in the 4th quarter. Wes Welker was clearly and visibly distraught following the game. Nobody on this Earth feels worse than he does right now.

Some have blamed Brady, including Eric Wilbur, who heartlessly slandered Brady in an article in the Globe following the game. Some have blamed Belichick while others have blamed the organization. People are confused, and when an organization such as New England experiences turmoil such as this, there is a sense of heartfelt malice towards those responsible. The question is why.

There seemed to be an explosion after the Super Bowl. Pent-up anger boiling a the surface that poured over when that Hail Mary fell to the ground. It has been 7 seasons since our last Super Bowl with the ruined perfect season occurring in the middle. We have been tantalizingly close. We're good every single year. We're always in contention. Look how incredible we've been since 2001.
2001: 14-5 SB Champion
2002: 9-7
2003: 17-2 SB Champion
2004: 17-2 SB Champion
2005: 11-7 L Divisional Round
2006: 14-5 L AFC Championship
2007: 18-1 L SB
2008: 11-5
2009: 10-7 L WC Round
2010: 14-3 L Divisional Round
2011: 15-4 L SB
Total: 150-48, Winning Percentage of 75%.

That stretch is remarkable. For modern-day NFL standards it is a period that may never be matched, and there is reason to suspect that our success will only continue for at least a few more years. In comparison, here is the Giants totals since 2001: 103-85, Winning Percentage of 55% (rounded up), with 2 Super Bowl Championships. This helps to explain why we are so distraught right now. If you look at our progression, you would think that following 2004, we would only get better. Brady was still very young and with Belichick at the helm, and a solid organization in place, one would think there would be improvement. But 2005 was a disappointment. 2006 was the heartbreaking loss to Indy, where Belichick went for it on 4th and 2, a game which many felt we gave away. 2007 was the perfect season that wasn't. 2008 Matt Cassel was our QB. 2009 ended with the Ravens running on our faces. 2010 was the loss to the Jets. And 2011 the loss to the Giants again.

It hurts so much because we've been so good. Because we've been so dominant over this decade the losses are bewildering. When something goes wrong, we feel as if everything is wrong. We wonder if Belichick and Brady have lost their touch. We are in love with this team. And love always brings heartbreak, especially in sports. The Patriots before 2001 were eerily mediocre. One Super Bowl appearance in 1996 (a loss to Brett Favre), some good years, more bad years, and a shitty stadium. Then 2001 comes, and we're thrusted into a decade of dominance. The lovable losers of Boston all of sudden have a team and a franchise that are the model for the rest of the league. Everyone wants to copy us. Assistant Coaches are hired. Front office employees snatched away.

The magic we had in the early 2000s appears to be lost. It isn't gone. But lost. And we can't find it. The fumbles no longer land in the right place. Opposing teams make miraculous catches. We make crucial mistakes, like having too many men on the field. And we can no longer get that big play or the lucky break that always seemed to be there when we needed it. We're frustrated, that for these past 7 years we've been so good, but the trophy has been evasive. And undoubtedly that frustration boiled over. Are we spoiled? Maybe. But wouldn't anyone who's been this good, for this long, be spoiled? I think, after everyone calms down, which has already happened, we'll realize we are still at the top of the pyramid in the NFL. Nobody can put claim to the fact that we are still the team to beat. So as much as may hurt now, we'll get that feeling again. We'll get that trophy soon.