ESPN Ombudsman: And the ESPY goes to Bill Simmons!

ESPN.com has no control over Bill Simmons - can it get worse?

Roughly 5 years ago, Bill Simmons, a man with literally no sports background, started writing ESPN columns from the "fan's point of view." Basically, his early columns were just his own humorous reactions and opinions on sports and related pop-culture. As these were well received, we got longer columns where Bill propounded inane theories and unburdened himself of various private musings and thoughts. Further validated by his growing readership and inferring that the public was fascinated with the minutia of his life, readers were introduced to his father, his wife and his college buddies, who would be quoted, at times extensively, in his columns. By 2006, a very self-confident Bill, who I will say again is a man with no sports background, got into public feuds with various NBA general managers. When, in 2008, he held out against ESPN's editing -essentially refusing to write - ESPN must have realized they'd created a monster. A guy who writes about himself (something that can't really be replicated) and who has the power to call the shots over the editors and higher-ups.

So what do you get when you combine a bizarre fascination with one's self, a validating group of readers, and the self-confidence that no one will edit what you write? You get the following - an article by Bill Simmons entirely about his dead dog. Now look, I had a dog that died, and I loved that dog. But if someone asked...IF someone asked...I would probably briefly mention his name, what kind of dog, when I had it and maybe one funny thing he used to do. One paragraph max. Bill Simmons, apropos of nothing, gives us 25 paragraphs about his dead dog. On a sports website. What could be more hubristic? What were the editors doing? And most importantly - what comes next? I have 5 column titles & ideas:

1) Good Night Neosporin. Wearing a McHale jersey, Bill bloodies his hand trying to dunk on an 8 and a half foot rim and must treat it with neosporin in order to avoid infection and scarring. Bill tells the story of being bullied in middle school and how he would eat some of the neosporin used to treat cuts and scrapes from these little tussles. 10,000 words later, Bill brings the story full circle and eats a little neosporin as he treats his hand

2) How 'Bout Them Apples? Bill podcasts from the grocery store and opens up to listeners about some problems he's had selecting fresh produce, his lactose intolerance and something he used to do with heated up banana peels in college.

3) Go To Hell, Dillan Moskowitz. Bill rips into one Dillan Moskowitz, a fat, slow, disgusting, racist third baseman on his son's tee ball team. Dillan, who incidentally starts over Simmons' son, probably takes creatine and is constantly peeing in his pants (Dillan's not Simmons').

4) Marcia & Tom & Something Else. Take an erotic and troubling journey with Bill as he talks about the two Bradys he thinks about in quiet moments as well as a story about a chance 1993 encounter with Oil Can Boyd in a Dunkin Donuts that begins with excitement and admiration but ends in prurience and shame.

5) Simmons - THE ONIONS! Bill spends 112 paragraphs spread over three weeks to detail his favorite sports daydreams about himself. Included in his opus is a daydream where Bill is the 7 foot tall Celtics center in Game 7 of the NBA Championship, and wins the title at the buzzer by dunking on Kobe Bryant so viciously that everyone in the arena suffers from dizziness and dry mouth, Kobe flies into the 3rd row of seats where several people are seriously hurt and the NBA cancels its 2009-10 season.

In conclusion, LeRoy Jenkins was the backup 3rd basemen on my tee ball team.