Brazil was upset by Belgium 2-1. After the game, there was an awkward moment when someone tried to console Neymar with a pat on the back and he flopped to the ground.

We are in a heat wave. People are sweating like the Nike factory foreman in Thailand missing the 12 kids in the cave.

James Woods claims his agent dropped him because he supports Trump. And Scott Baio's agent did not return his calls because it's not 1985.

We are in a serious heat wave. Across the US, people are sweating like Sarah Huckabee Sanders taking a lie detector test.

We are in a heat wave. People are sweating like Joey Chestnut running out of toilet paper on July 5th.



Since you asked:


There is nothing about the disgusting sleaziness and comparisons to a cesspool about Ohio Rep. Jim Jordan and the Ohio State wrestling program that surprises me.

Let me brag a little bit. 

I’ve been lucky to fall in love with, and be pretty good at, several sports, football, Decathlon, basketball, mini-triathlons, snowboarding, windsurfing and stand up paddleboard surfing. 

But the sport I was the best at by far was wrestling. As a kid, my friends would not wrestle with me, even the few my size, Howie Detmer, Jeff Lipe and Steve Lewis. It was no fun for them because I always won. 

In 7th grade, I was on the 8th-grade wrestling team which had never happened before. Not only was I on the team, but I was always wrestling kids in higher weight groups. 

And I wasn’t just undefeated, I was winning in 30 seconds. My coach, who may have been biased, made thinly veiled comparisons to the great gold medalist, Dan Gable. 

When I wrestled, it was as if someone was telling me into a microphone in my ear what the guy was doing next. Except easier. It was like I was in their head. 

Then one match, our coach - Mr. Dumas, a great guy and a great coach and an All-American wrestler at Northwestern - put me up against a heavyweight, forty pounds heavier than me, just so we would not forfeit the match. Mr. Dumas thought it would be good practice for me to lose since I had never lost.

This corn-fed moron was a fat, freckled, ugly, smelly Illinois farm boy who reeked like week-old sushi. Spent the entire match under his fetid swamp of an armpit. He threw me around like a rag doll, but he did not pin me and I quit wrestling on the spot.  

Wrestling is a disgusting sport of skin abrasions, sweat, funk, body odor and bruises. Latent homosexuality abounds. Why wouldn’t it? Only guys who really like to rub up against other guys really love the sport. Personally, I hated wrestling, I just happened to be a natural at it. Like a duck in the water, as Forest Gump said of ping pong.

Any adult involved in high school or college wrestling is under serious suspicion in my book. Yes, there are good coaches like my Mr. Dumas. On the other hand, I bet all of the wrestling coaches at my high school were closeted molesters. One, whom I know for sure was a closeted molester, name rhymed with Boy Day. 

Anyone who wants a look into the potential creepy sleaziness and weirdos involved in wrestling just has to see the movie about world-class psycho, John DuPont in "Foxcatcher." 

There have been two wrestling coaches in politics, Illinois Congressman Dennis Hastert, who was speaker of the house and in prison for over a year as a serial child molester, and Jim Jordan, who, as we are finding out more about him, is turning out to be a renowned scumbag and liar.

As a coach, it is horrible enough to ignore your athlete's charges of sexual assault, but Jordan doubled-up and lied about it.