Coincidence is Weird. (Also, My Granny was so Dark They Called Her "The Little Gypsy").

Last night I put together the little "poll" now resting on the left side of this page, thinking that the answers might suggest something -- who knows what? -- about who actually engages with this blog.

And then, this morning, I read in the Chronicle that the ex-athlete Michael Irvin made some racially fraught statements on ESPN, talking about the surprising success of the "new" (lot of years on that bench, actually) starting quarterback of the Dallas Cowboys.

Here they are:

"He doesn't look like he's that type of an athlete," Irvin said of Romo. "But he is. He is, man. I don't know if some brother down in that line somewhere, I don't know who saw what or where, his great-great-great-great-grandma ran over in the 'hood or something went down."

(Dan) Patrick tried to suggest to Irvin that he shouldn't go there, but Irvin was having none of it, continuing:

"If great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandma pulled one of them studs up out of the barn, 'Come on in here for a second,' you know, and they go out and work in the yard. You know, back in the day."

This doesn't precisely offend me, and I don't know why. I don't think not being offended by the comment is misogynistic, rather the opposite, if we are inclined to honor the right of women to make an unencumbered sexual choice. Is there stereotyping at work? Well, yeah, but that fast twitch/slow twitch muscle business is more than a myth, right?

Or maybe my brain has been slowly boiled, like that apocryphal frog, by listening and watching too much ESPN, too much jock talk, over the years

I suppose there's a double standard in my lack of indignation, and I could think through it, given time. But that's a 45-minute intellectual workout, and I'm the 15-minute man.