
Color me impressed, because I didn’t think God would be the kind of cat that was even in a fantasy football league, let alone a league that started individual defensive players. I’ve been in a league like that. They’re no fun. God’s a trooper.
Anyway, the latest Sports Illustrated (which I, for some reason, don’t get in the mail until about three days after everyone else has it) has a long piece by S.L. Price about Ray-Ray and his Deion-like relationship with Christ. It puts me in a little bit of a weird spot, because I try to stay away from poking fun at peoples’ religious beliefs, but at the same time, I don’t like, and very much enjoy making fun of, Ray Lewis.
So… to hell with it. To make that omelet, we’re gonna have to break a few eggs. The article is here, but is available to SI subscribers only, I’m afraid.
Where to start… it’s sort of an unfocused article, and I don’t offer that as a criticism of the author, I think that’s a product of trying to understand Ray-Ray here. First, let’s start with the fact that Ray apparently thinks he’s, if not Christ, someone who lives in the same neighborhood.
…Lewis will tell you these days that he’s “anointed,” that he enjoys “favor,” that he is a “king” charged with fostering a national ministry on the order of Martin Luther King Jr. and that, once football is done, his mix of piety and street cred and that spectacularly nasty, Court TV-chronicled fall will drag even the most hardened hearts to the light.
If Ray Lewis is favored, anointed, or a king… I’m going to be pissed off, because I thought the meek were inheriting the earth. Ray Lewis is not meek (unless, of course, Rudi Johnson is barreling towards him at the goal line, and Ray’s got him wrapped up and dead to rights–then he sort of gets meek), and if any part of that is true, I’d like to fill out my application for anointed status. If Ray Lewis is getting in that club, so am I. and I don’t care who I have to shank to get there.
If Ray Lewis has found God, I think that’s fantastic. Really, I do. But it feels a little bit to me like Ray Lewis is one of those guys who can’t just do something–he has to do it better than anyone else alive.
If you were a kid on his block, and you told a story about how you made a three-foot jump on your bike, Ray had a story about his 10-foot jump. If you won a coloring contest, Ray stabbed a kid and used his blood to color with, just so he had a deeper shade of red. If you go to church and have a strong relationship with God, then Ray’s going to become the goddamn pastor and he will not only heal people with his bare hands, he will carry on the work of Martin Luther King Jr.
I just don’t know if it works like that. Again, I’m glad he’s got this in his life. But you don’t go from one second lying to the cops about your friend stabbing someone outside of a club just so it doesn’t get you in trouble before the Super Bowl… to suddenly becoming the holiest man this side of the Dalai Lama. Sometimes, it’s OK to sit in the back of the church and listen and contemplate. Someone else can lead the congregation. He’s like Michael Scott on the booze cruise. Let Captain Jack do what he does.
Maybe I’m being too cynical about this, and Ray not only is as chosen and Godly as he’d like to believe, but he will someday lead a movement that will bring peace, equality, love, and joy to everyone alive. But I remain skeptical.
Oh, and thanks to With Leather for bringing it to my attention to begin with; a blog that I’m ashamed that I have yet to mention here.

Or was killed, or suffered a career-ending injury, or got an apartment in Thailand with Gary Glitter, or whatever the hell happened to Cliff Stoudt.
From Portland TV guy
With many thanks to Jonathan Stein for pointing it out to me, buried at the very bottom of
UFC bad-ass Tito Ortiz was recently invited to be the guest of honor at the US Marine Corps’ Birthday Ball. He accepted, and was going to happily be there…
Well,