MOLI VIEW™

Michael Vick has made negative headlines, again, this week. Before that it was Marion Jones coming with the extraordinarily bad news. Then it was Isiah Thomas. Before that, I believe the villain du jour was a cat named O.J. Simpson. Perhaps you've heard of him. And before that, baseball was the only game in town. And despite having its lowest African-American participation since Negro Leaguers swung bats, no player in that sport was a bigger bad guy than the infamous, recently fired slugger with the San Francisco Giants.

Wowser. It's only the start of 2007's fourth quarter, but let's go out on a limb. What the great Paul Mooney would call "a bad nigga year" seems to have befallen us, at least in sport.

Oh, I forgot. We don't say "bad nigga year" no more. We just have 'em.

(Funny thing about not saying the n-word anymore: It's all admirable and whatnot that certain leadership figures are washing the collective community's mouth out with soap. But what are they gonna do about Latinos? Having worked a bit of Southern California construction and taken many 4:20 p.m. rides on the backs of MTA buses, I can tell you that them cats aren't close to embargoing that language. They're embracing it. The weather forecast seems to be calling for that particular umbrella.)

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