AJ Daulerio's Cultural Oddsmaker runs every Friday. Email him to tell him what you think.
As I was watching ESPN for all hours this week, trying to get as much information about Terrell Owens as humanly possible, I struggled to construct some semblance of oddsmaking that would feel fresh, exciting and devoid of any references to Daniel Nicole Smith. Then it came to me: There's nothing more to say about this in any capacity. Until next week, of course, when South Philly's finest will do their best to give Mr. Owens a warm welcome, wish him the best of luck and express their concern for his well-being as only Broad Street's finest lovers of chip steak smothered in orange goop can.
As I began to pore over the ethical quandaries abound in joking about suicide, while simultaneously hoping for a glimpse of Suzy Kolber's beloved saddle, I became stricken with a sense of responsibility to a frothing readership fully expecting a thoroughly insensitive angle about this whole terrible mess. And I said "No. I won't do that." Then I began to take a real hard look at Trey Wingo and began to further examine how gay his name is. And then I focused on his ties and his manicured features, which seem overly effeminate even in terms of television-standards, and I came to the conclusion that, yes, this man has, at one point or another in his life, touched another man's testicles.
So, we'll save T.O for next week when it's more appropriate and we give him time to quell his demons.
Instead, I'm finally using this newly purchased Gaydar I bought from Radio Shack, putting on my ascot and placing odds on the first ESPN personality to finally charge out of the closet and reveal himself as the lover of man parts that he is.
Wingo with me, after this skip.