I don't mean to hound Ted Cox [February 26]. In fact, I admire his dogged determination in sniffing out something worth saying about the Pit-ia-Bulls (notice, please, that I am only using this predictable joke once!). I also respect his refusal either to bitch about the whelp the Jerrys hired to shepherd their pack of punch-drunk boxers or to call Steve a cur for sinking so many three-pointers. Ted, take a bow! Wow!
Nor do I consider myself to be the community watchdog. But did anyone consider that this columnist might have misunderstood the phrase man's best friend? "To watch Michael Jordan highlights as a way of introducing these Bulls," he mutters, "is like looking at pictures of old lovers and then having your dog go down on you." The implied M.J. fantasies are, I suppose, commonplace, but the "Bullette" half of the simile (those poor little dogies remind you of your porous little doggie) is not something I've seen before. Mr. Cocks, what you do in private is between you and your lapdog, but must you whippet out in print? I, for one, would ask that you restrict your territorial markings to your own kennel. Let's ask the coach what he thinks: Dr. Floyd, is this sort of association OK? "Nein!"
Since the games Mr. Cox was summarizing were not exactly news, I am surprised he did not bother to retrieve his copy and clean up his splatter.
PS: You will recall my earlier letter [July 24] concerning Mr. Cox's twittering coverage of women's soccer [July 10]--he dismissed the U.S. national women's team as an alluring but inconsequential flight of birds. Perhaps, in future, you should regard any reference to nonhumans in his writing as a red light and alert the appropriate antidefamation societies.