Where will they be? The elderly sportsman edition

On April 1st, 2007, I hit a new level of despicable through the introduction of a “Death Pool” to several of my coworkers, friends, and family.  For those who do not understand the concept of a “Death Pool,” please allow me to summarize based on our criteria:

1. Choose 20 people of national or international recognition whose death would be announced by the Associated Press.

2. For the course of one (1) year, all chosen persons will be eligible to earn the player points by becoming deceased.

3. The player cannot in ANY WAY have anything to do with the demise of any person on his/her list.  If the player must explain to his/her cell mate, "Well, at least I won the death pool," he/she has larger issues.

4. Points are simple: 100 – age of the person when they die. Total points at the end of one year wins (usually money AND shame).

Although I expected lectures on the psychological disorders that must plague my cerebral cortex (which happened—often) or threats of a fiery death while tied to a wooden post to dispel the devil that lurks inside of me (still awaiting), I found most people who did not actively participate were still more than satisfied to “make a suggestion.”  Case and point, my youngest brother suggested I only pick ex-wrestlers and ex-NFL linemen because “there always seems to be a few of them every year that die young.”  Looking at it from a medical perspective, he makes a valid point.  These guys brutalize their bodies in the hopes of getting bigger, stronger, and more threatening (occasionally to compensate for a voice that rivals Alvin and the Chipmunks). 

But looking for more likely candidates to send to the grave, players usually research more mortal symptoms—the easiest of which is “Does he look like he/she could die at any moment?”  I actually chose to combine the two concepts to create a “Super Death List.”  The list consists of people in American sports that are (1) elderly, (2) continue to be involved in their sport (usually as a coach), and (3) have most likely heard the statement, “My name is __________, and I’m CPR certified.  Are you having trouble breathing?”  Of course, my love as a fan of these great sportspersons did not allow me—in good conscience—to actually place a wager on their lives, and so my real list has half-dead men like Fidel Castro and Courtney Love on it.

No, there was not a typo there.

So, that got me thinking.  What would many of these “Super Death List” sports figures be doing later on in life if they managed to escape the cold hand of the Reaper this year?

1) Joe Paterno
Now former Head Coach of the Nittany Lions, “Joe Pa” claims the title role in feature film Weekend at Bernie’s III.  The movie is expected to break blockbuster records until Paterno’s medical doctor releases reports claiming that Joe had actually died in 1992.  Ebert and Roeper give the movie “Two thumbs WAY down,” asserting, “It’s like Dan Marino playing himself in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective.  There’s just no acting involved.”  Adding Roeper, “Marino was playing himself?”

2) Bobby Cox
Following breaking the record for most ejections in MLB history, the Braves skipper takes a page from Joe Pa and attempts to reinvent himself in Hollywood.  Considering his antics on the ball field and his physical likeness to the deceased movie star, Cox starts a series of off-Broadway musicals outside of Atlanta based around the movies of Jack Lemmon.  All of them.  Walter Matthau’s roles are all played by the character “Pruneface” from Dick Tracy.

3) Bobby Knight
Finally finding the time to set aside his Hall of Fame career and focus on the other interests he has maintained outside of the arena for his entire life, Mr. Knight reorganizes his priorities from this:

1. God / Family
2. Basketball
3. Answering questions with louder questions
4. Stealing candy from children

to this:

1. God / Stealing candy from children
2. Answering all statements (including “body language”) with louder questions
3. Family with a lifetime winning record
4. Family without a lifetime winning record
5. Basketball

4) Jim Leyland
By far the most successful second career prospect of all, Leyland spends the bulk of his extra time sitting at the desks of Leno, Letterman, and Stewart.  After accepting a deal with Marlboro worth “a lifetime’s supply of sleeve rollers,” the man known to his former players as “Smelly Uncle Jimmy” and “Awkward Hugging Jimbo” continues on to play the lead villain Skeletor in Masters of the Universe.  While completing his publicity rounds for the movie, Leyland announces on The Colbert Report that only moments before arriving his agent had informed him that he was offered $20 million per season to narrate in the remake of the classic television series Tales from the Crypt.

5) Lou Piniella
Tragically, Piniella’s life spirals out of control after finally leaving Wrigley and MLB for good.  After a short attempt at recreating himself as the new trainer on The Biggest Loser and Celebrity Fit Club, Lou becomes obsessed with his need for stardom.  He relocates himself and his family to Hollywood, CA, where he works part-time at a local Starbucks so he can “make it to all of my auditions in the mornings.”  Lou makes a final attempt in the limelight, reappearing at the Espy Awards exactly one year from the date of his retirement from baseball—at 106 lbs.  Expecting cheers and fans clawing at him for his autograph, Lou is shocked during an E! interview with Ryan Seacrest as he is informed that “fat, old, and angry is the new skinny.”  Piniella responds by kicking dirt at Seacrest, fracturing Lou’s now swiss cheese tibia in 14 places.

Raging M

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