It feels like I just witnessed a tragedy. I feel like going out and getting a little Cardinals logo sticker for my car, and a bumper sticker that says something like, “We Will Always Remember: 10-16-06.”

The Chicago Bears became bad guys last night. If this was Wrestlemania III, they’d be Andre the Giant. I used to like them, they were friendly, powerful, generous, and admirable for a while… but then they did something really mean to someone who didn’t deserve it, and now I don’t like them anymore. That’s how I feel… I feel like the Cardinals are a scrawny loner kid that was about to finally beat up the bully, and then the bully landed some lucky bullshit punch and kicked the little kid’s ass. I didn’t want to see that little kid get his ass kicked. What I really feel like, evidently, is expressing myself through analogies right now.

But yeah, the Bears just became like the Patriots, Colts, or Steelers… they’re no longer an improbable upstart team on the rise to greatness, they’re just another good NFL team whose success I resent. And I don’t even fucking like the Cardinals… they’ve just sucked for so long, they finally were about to get a big, signature win… and ouch.

I’m literally sad for them. Everyone takes tough losses from time to time, and I usually don’t offer a ton of sympathy because everyone goes through it… but that one made me actually feel emotional pain… for Neil Rackers, for Cardinals fans, for Dennis Green… but not for Matt Leinart, because he still has his choice of any woman in Arizona or southern California.

Check out this pain:

A few days ago, I said of Maurice Clarett’s arrest/depression/confusion/arsenal, that it was “the most bizarre and surreal sports story since OJ Simpson.” I’m going to have to take that back now, because Clarett now has been linked with the Isreali Mob. Yep. Isreali Mob.

At this point, hey, why the fuck not? If police said tomorrow that a magic beanstalk was growing out of Clarett’s urethra, I’d just shrug and say, “Well, that’s unusual.” I mean, when a guy is arrested outside of a pancake house with four guns, a bottle of the Goose, a bulletproof vest, a hatchet and a lint roller, is anything really out of bounds? Isreali mob ties almost seem like the natural next step in the progression.

The guy’s name is Hai Waknine, and he, according to this report, was the one providing Clarett with the cars, home, and bodyguards while he was busy letting his talents erode before the NFL combine. His lawyer speculates that the threatening note that Clarett recently received came from Waknine and/or his people, which seems like a reasonable connection to draw. And it’s becoming more and more clear that jail right now is the absolute best place for Maurice Clarett. Had he not been arrested when he was, Waknine and his people would be going after him like he was a member of Hezbollah.

After Italy’s victory over France in the World Cup finals, a 77-year old man in Rome decided to head to raise an Italian flag in celebration. He didn’t make it all the way up the ladder, though, and fell to his death. He died instantly, and was clutching the flag to his chest when he passed. The fall is being reported as an accident, though I wonder if the man’s dive was an imitation of the Italian style of play.

But, you know, if I went out like that… I couldn’t complain. It’s still sad that he died, obviously… but he was 77 years old, and if the victory was stirring enough to move a man that age to climb a ladder and raise a flag, then he probably died pretty happy. If I died in the midst of celebrating a Chargers Super Bowl victory, or something of that nature… that wouldn’t be so bad. In fact, that would be pretty high up on the list of ways I’d want to go.

At the age of 43 and fresh off of an embarrassing comeback attempt, Evander Holyfield wants to get back in the ring. After his last fight, the state of New York was indefinitely suspended for “poor performance,” which means that the New York boxing officials didn’t feel like he could get in the ring and prevent himself from being beaten into a coma.

But he protested the decision, passed some medical tests, and now, the state of Texas is letting him fight. And I’d love to poke fun, but it’s just too sad. Boxers, moreso than any other athletes, can’t turn the page. They can’t walk away when it’s time. Not speaking of Evander specifically, but when a guy becomes a boxer, it’s usually because he has to; he doesn’t have a lot of other options. And it becomes all they know, all they depend on, and a life that doesn’t involve boxing gets more and more distant. A lot of them seem unable to adjust to the idea of not being a fighter. It even works with actors who play boxers… for example, see Rocky VI.

Maybe this wouldn’t happen if there were some bad-ass heavyweights out there… some big, bruising, bastards who were scaring the hell out of everyone. But no one like that exists… it’s wide open, so Evander thinks he has a chance to become the champion of the world again. And in the unlikely event that he does… I just can’t see myself being that happy for him. I’ll be thinking something like, “Okay, you can quit now, right?”

I just want him to get through this thing without getting killed.

Steelers linebacker Joey Porter on motorcycles:

“If I fall off a Jet Ski, I hit the water, and I like my odds,” Porter said. “I’m going to get wet. What I say about motorcycles is that concrete is undefeated.”

And, quite unfortunately, concrete ran it’s all-time record up to 29,372,027,258-and-0. Steelers QB Ben Roethlisberger suffered some pretty bad injuries yesterday after a motorcycle crash in Pittsburgh. I once said that after Jay Williams, and after Kellen Winslow, I’d have a hard time feeling sorry for anyone else who got hurt on a motorcycle. It was easy to say at the time, but, as it turns out, not true.

I feel terrible for the guy. I wish him nothing but the best. I don’t think he “deserves” it for not wearing a helmet, and I don’t think he “had it coming.” Of course, none of that stops me from thinking that refusing to wear a helmet is something done only by absolute fucking morons. I don’t begrudge him his motorcycle. A lot of guys in the NFL do a lot of dangerous things in the offseason. Some guys go skydiving. Some guys have cocaine habits. Matt Leinart has sex with Paris Hilton. All of them, if you’re irresponsible about it, can hurt you. Riding a motorcycle is something that you can do safely, keeping in mind that bad things can, and are perhaps more likely to happen. But regardless… put on a fucking helmet. It’s not a freedom issue, it’s not about anyone trying to control you, it’s not about the man keeping you down… it’s about 15,000 tramatic brain injuries a year suffered in motorcycle accidents.

It’s still kinda hard to tell how bad things are for him right now. I know that seven hours of facial surgery, however… is not a good thing. His hat may not fit right for a while. I guess the knee injuries aren’t that significant, but… I mean, if doctors are putting his face back together, it could be a while before they clear him for the kind of contact that the NFL brings. Doctor Jerome Bettis, though, says his injuries aren’t severe enough to limit anything he can do on the football field. Man law? Man law.

Best of luck, Large Benjamin. I’m rooting for your good health.

ESPN.com’s Len Pasquarelli turned in, in my opinion, the best written remembrance of Craig “Ironhead” Heyward. It’s honest, emotional, amusing, and doesn’t attempt to hide anything. And it gives you a better sense of who Ironhead was, when really, most people just know him as that huge running back from Pitt who did the Zest commercial and was never as good in the NFL as he should’ve been.

So if you have a chance, check out the column. Here’s my favorite bit, about how he actually brought Brian Bosworth to tears on the football field…

Hebert also recalled the time, during a game in 1988, when Heyward hit Seattle linebacker and alleged tough guy Brian Bosworth so hard he made him cry. According to Hebert, then-Saints coach Jim Mora called the same off-tackle play six straight times, with Heyward as the lead blocker. “After about the third time,” Hebert said, “Bosworth was crying. Honest. Tears were rolling down his face, because he didn’t want Ironhead to hit him anymore. He cried ‘Uncle!’ for real. Ironhead, he just laughed at him.”

Joltin’ Joe used to write notes to himself about how to deal with his sometimes lady-friend, Marilyn Monroe… these do not sounds like the words of a man who is ecstatic to be with his wife. His notes included the following…

• Don’t ever be critical
• Be nice to her friends
• No jealousy. Remember this is not your wife. She is a fine girl and remember how unhappy you made her. Happiness is what you strive for — for HER
• Remember how lonesome and unhappy you are - especially without her

Ouch. So, he’s just normally a lonesome and unhappy guy, but even moreso when Marilyn isn’t around. Not a pretty picture… imagine how long that 56-game hit streak could’ve been if Joe wasn’t a miserable bastard. It’s too bad that he didn’t come up in the days of Dr. Phil and sports psychiatrists. I feel like he should’ve been calling Doug and Jackie Christie for relationship advice.

Anyway, a bunch of Joe DiMaggio/Marilyn Monroe stuff is going up for auction in New York. Some love letters are expected to grab about $20,000… and his home uniform from his last World Series in 1951 is expected to go for $200,000 - $300,000. I expect that these aunctions will be won by Walter Gaskell, whose dog was murdered by James Leer.

The good news is that Mike Tyson wants to get involved with a boy band. The bad news is that he doesn’t want to beat the piss out of them.

Iron Mike, as noted this morning on BenMaller.com, wants to get involved with a boy band called “Westlife.” He says he wants to cut a song with them. Seriously. He wants to sing with them.

I’ve never heard of these Westlife characters, but I think it’s fairly safe to assume that they are an embarrassment, and to call them musicians would be akin to calling Craig Stadler an athlete. It’s not my concern that Mike Tyson is going to be a part of a terrible song… that’s pretty much a certainty. My concern is that there’s just no limit to what Mike Tyson will do for a few bucks, no matter how embarrassing it is, and I just don’t want to see this keep snowballing. Porn just seems inevitable at this point, doesn’t it?