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Esquire Article on CP - Words can't do it justice


21dave

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I was still expecting some kind of direction, not just aimless wandering. It felt like the last two seasons of The Sopranos. I kept wishing for payoff or resolution, but didn't get either.

Did you want to hear about how they rank him the 10th best back and then you can ***** about how the media hates the skins?

Thats what all the articles do, its the same reaction, 'The media hates the skins'.

This is finally an article about the player and his life. No predictions, not football talk, just how he lives his life.

Thought it was a very refreshing article, instead of all this BS media articles predicting **** they have no clue about.

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I was still expecting some kind of direction, not just aimless wandering. It felt like the last two seasons of The Sopranos. I kept wishing for payoff or resolution, but didn't get either.

It's a "Day In The Life" article, though...meant to give you the feeling as if you were there with Portis. Would you spend a few hours with Portis, then at the end of it say "Man, I was hoping for more direction from you, some sort of payoff...but all I get is hanging around, drinking Coronas and going to the club? I want my two hours back, Clinton. Total waste of time."...lol ;)

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I was still expecting some kind of direction, not just aimless wandering. It felt like the last two seasons of The Sopranos. I kept wishing for payoff or resolution, but didn't get either.

I know what you're saying. We're seeing more and more athlete mini-bio pieces like this that try (in my opinion a bit too hard) to paint today's athletes in a kind of neo-existential, through-the-looking-glass haze. The recent SI piece on Andre Agassi had a similar feel. There have been several others.

The imagery in this one was pretty good, and it was kinda neat to get a peak at CP behind the scenes ... but there was nothing that surprised, really. And the piece ended abruptly with the awkward and a bit strained lion-fish metaphor that ran throughout, and finished a bit flat for me. Kind of like a red wine that looks good held up to the candle light, has a pretty good nose, gives a pleasant enough flush on the palate, but then, once swallowed, leaves a somewhat strange aftertaste.

I'd not send this particular bottle back, but I'm not sure I'd order it again either.

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The Redskins are, always have been and always will be my favorite team, but this article cinches it for me that Gilbert Arenas is my favorite player. Contrast this article with reading any of the articles about Arenas basically adopting a kid who lost his family to a fire; about Arenas buying cars and paying medical bills for random unsuspecting people that he heard about having troubles and finally breaking in to the Wizards gym at 3:00 a.m. to work on his game. There just isn't a character comparison.

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I wonder what that back way is that can have you pop up right next to the jefferson memorial and monument. Is it the GW parkway?

Down 123, acroos the chain bidge, into NW, right on canal street. But if they were going to love why would they pass the Jefferson Memorial? Might have been the writer taking some liberties with the facts to set a picture of the city.

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"But others saw darker reasons in Portis's hiding behind masks. Rather than being the latest in the capital's long string of superior ballcarriers (not yet John Riggins, but still), he was the latest in the league's long string of heartsick running backs (not yet Ricky Williams, but still). They have long been the game's lost men, grown old before their time, worn down and finally beaten. They are football's point guards, with a career spent shackled, and Clinton Portis could sometimes look as though he had reserved his Thursday mornings to let loose another part of his fragile psyche during one more of his weekly cries for help."

Huh? Fragile psyche? Weekly cry for help? I think this is some serious journalistic stretching.

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Is Chris Jones a chick?

"But now Portis has clocked out, and he's showered and relaxed, preening. His brown eyes are framed with lashes thick and long enough to flutter, and his fingernails boast the shine of the recently manicured. His hair is all that needs work (although it doesn't really, Norman having trimmed it only last week). That and a change of clothes, something casual- fancy set off by a few giant, carefully chosen jewels, and he'll be ready to push through a different kind of crowd, straight up the middle."

Sounds a little gay to me...not that there's anything wrong with that :laugh:

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