Fatlock Follies: Rollin' Solo; Playin' An Interesting Form of the Race Card

Eris Banks, of Conyers, Ga., the guy pictured here on the left felt, for perhaps constitional-rights reasons, it necessary to display his clever, non-hilarious poster at yesterday's Atlanta Braves home game. The story is not that the Braves outhit the hapless Reds 10-18, or that they let the Reds take a two-run lead in the top of the 15th inning. Nor is the story about the run the Braves produced in the bottom of the 15th, or that they ultimately lost 5-4. Exciting game, huh? No. The story is that Banks, along with who knows how many other Atlanta locals intend on supporting Mike "Dawg Killa'" Vick and his entourage.



I'm aware of this photograph because it appears next to today's column by The Kansas City Star columnist Jason Whitlock. Whitlock, as I've said in other posts about the sports writer, has an interesting take on race, arguably our nation's biggest issue. Whitlock continues to suggest that the forlorn behavior of numerous contemporary African-American athletes has large ties to, and is inseparable from, the hip-hop/prison culture so often associated with black lifestyles.

Allow me to elaborate. The hip-hop side involves lyrics and images in rap and hip-hip music wherein "characters" continuously sell drugs, tote firearms, and act misogynistic. The prison side has something to do with the inexplicable misconception that doing time is cool simply because so many African-American males are, at one time or another, incarcerated; it's a shared experience, a bonding of sorts. The most obvious thing to transcend prison life onto American streets would be the oversized tees and baggy pants, a style that expresses the generic, non-fitting prison shirt and the lack of belt privileges in the can, thus the falling-down drawers and the massively oversized tops that, one would think, should cover up the backside of one's boxer shorts.

Nevertheless, Whitlock, regardless of his years spent being the first to play the race card in almost every race-related, sports-affiliated issue, has abandoned that camp and erected a shelter in which he, for the time being anyway, stands alone. Though I badger him on the InterWebs and annoy him with e-mails he won't answer, I hold a tremendous amount of respect for him for this endeavor. I can't say if it's self-promotion or genuine; I'd like to think the latter is true. I will say, that if it is in fact genuine, he'd better recruit some folks to take up arms with him. That's because, thus far, in the Michael Vick debacle, everyone else seems to already be playing that damnable race card.

Cecil's boy Colin Cowherd received a slew of e-mails on "The Herd" yesterday on ESPN radio, several of which he read over the air. One was from a listener named Jamie in Albany, NY that claimed the only reason the feds indicted Vick is because he's black. Several callers to "The DA Show" (KCSP/610 AM) here in Kansas City this morning offered similar musings. Luckily, both hosts put their respective audience members in their places.

I never thought I'd say this before, but it's time to wake up, people. Listen to -- you don't have to agree -- what Whitlock is saying

Banks is right. Vick is innocent. Right now. He's also entitled to a fair trial, just like any other man or woman. The National Football League and the Atlanta Falcons are doing the right thing by not offering statements or handing down discipline until the legal system has evaluated the situation. Things don't look promising for Young No. 7, though. If you have a large piece of property from which canine corpses are exhumed, operate a business called "Bad Newz Kennels" from that property, lie about the frequency of your presence on that property, and have documents circulating the Internets about how said corpses were executed (allegations of electrocution, drowning, hanging, beating), I hope for your sake you saved some of that signing bonus to hire intelligent legal representation, 'cause you in troubs, homes. You in troubs.

And don't get me wrong. If Vick was white, I'd say, "That's quite a pickle you've gotten yourself into, Lester. Quite a pickle."