NFL, Is There No Shame...? Nope!

A lot of this started with Shakespeare. You know, this Roman thing…! The many tales about its mighty empire, emperors, courtesans, slaves, and especially gladiators. Their trained warriors have become synonymous with the idea of cunning and power; with today’s NFL warriors their modern counterpart

Men — young and old, strong and weak — love to identify themselves with our helmeted gods of the turf. Not only for their animal prowess, but surely for their imagined bedroom prowess. Women too harbor their own private images of the burly sex gods. And now — drumroll! — the NFL is turning on every klieg light and marquee they can as they glamorize their prized beasts of glory for television.

This year it all starts in New York’s fabled showplace, Radio City Music Hall, where the NFL draft picks will be paraded while thousands of viewers breathlessly watch. So showy is this event, it made this morning’s front cover of the New York Times where beefy 350-pounders are shown being custom-fit in tailored suits for the runway.

Someone, somewhere, please give me a break!

American males have a passel of people we love and honor. Cowboys …astronauts…firefighters… Seals …Cary Grant….Clint Eastwood. But we love them as they are. In their own skin. That’s all part of the vicarious thrill. However, now the flamboyant members of the Hollywood myth-makers are getting into the act. Tailors, hair dressers, a dab of makeup for the cameras, and — to be sure! — their very own contract lawyers.

Personally I can’t picture Jesse James in a three-piece Boston suit. Or John Glenn on Dancing With The Stars. Oh but wait….! This is only April.

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