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‘Shipping’ news

Still checking out the newly redesigned New York Times Magazine – so far, so good. But I was excited to see a page on “shipping” in the column Search Results by Jenna Wortham. And no, it wasn’t a column about Fed Ex.

Shipping is about relationshipping, or a romance between characters who are not otherwise romantically linked, such as Benedict Cumberbatch’s Sherlock Holmes and Martin Freeman’s Dr. John Watson on PBS’ “Sherlock.” (Drawings of them from the Tumblr website are featured on the Search Results page.)

Shipping, then, is the umbrella term for things like slash – gay pairings of characters who were not originally gay – and slash in turn includes male/male romance, which is where I come in. Though the characters in my series “The Games Men Play” – the swimmers and tennis players in “Water Music” and the football players in the forthcoming “The Penalty for Holding” – are entirely fictional, I won’t pretend that I wasn’t influenced by male/male romances I read on the Internet that either used real people (called RPF or real person fiction) or well-known fictional characters. ...

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QBs vs. haters in digital duels

The latest tempest in a teapot comes courtesy of Washington Redskins’ quarterback Robert Griffin III and his San Francisco 49ers’ counterpart Colin Kaepernick, who recently took on critical fans via Instagram and Twitter respectively.

In RG’s case, he was jamming to Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean” on Instagram when a fan called him out for not acting like a quarterback. 

Colin meanwhile tweeted a litany of “recovery day” activities – 1,000 abs, arm workout, 10 minutes straight on the jump rope, a two-hour study session. To which fan Stephen Batten replied, “ab workout won’t help find open receiver.” Which in turn led to a verbal pummeling from Colin that ended with “get better at life.”

My first reaction was, Why bother? Why bother to respond? In a 35-year career as a journalist, I’ve been praised and vilified, even threatened.  Rarely have I responded, preferring instead to follow the dictum of my favorite British prime minister, Benjamin Disraeli: “Never complain, never explain.”

And yet, I can understand. The fluidity and anonymity of the Internet are such that people respond with immediate, unfiltered vehemence. You’re punched, you counterpunch.

I think, however, this is about more than the culture of hatred bred by the web. It’s about our expectations of the quarterback, perhaps the most traditionally masculine occupation in the United States – expectations that weigh heavily on the gay, biracial quarterback at the heart of my upcoming novel “The Penalty for Holding.” ...

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The road warrior

What a terrible week for journalists. The Brian Williams debacle. Jon Stewart’s departure from “The Daily Show. “60 Minutes” correspondent Bob Simon’s death in a car crash. Media columnist David Carr’s fatal collapse in The New York Times newsroom.  

What I want to touch on here is Simon’s death, for at a moment when Williams is being castigated for exaggerating his war correspondent cred, Simon was the real deal. Vietnam. The Yom Kippur War. Tiananmen Square. The Persian Gulf War, in which he and four members of his TV crew were held in Iraq, an experience Simon wrote about in his book “Forty Days.” How ironic that a man who survived a dangerous professional life abroad should die on the streets of New York, the city in which he was born and raised, although maybe it’s not so ironic when you consider the livery driver’s rap sheet.

But this is a sports/culture blog, and so what I’d like to leave you with is another side of Simon, who profiled Novak Djokovic for “60 Minutes” on March 27, 2012. ...

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Of goddesses and their boy toys

Barneys has never shied away from provocation in its window displays or catalog, and its latest campaign – featuring supermodels of a certain vintage shot by Bruce Weber – is no exception. 

The models, fully clothed in fashions by the likes of Céline and Balenciaga, pose with younger men who for the most part are not. In one, Christie Brinkley, clad in short, lacy Lanvin, pauses from applying her lipstick to succumb to the ecstasy of a tousle-haired hunk wrapped in a white bed sheet.  In another, Stephanie Seymour Brant, in short, sheer Balenciaga, looks boldly at the camera as three nude men worship her with makeup mirrors.

Coupled with the appearance of plus-size model Ashley Graham in the new Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, it would seem as if society were finally ready to acknowledge the sexuality of women, many of whom are neither young nor thin.

So, as I said, it would seem.   Seeming, however, doesn’t make it so. The models may be middle-aged but they are still gorgeous women. And the posts about Graham, who appears only in an ad in Sports Illustrated not an actual spread, range from saying she’s too fat to remarking that she’s too thin for plus-size work.  (Graham’s a size 16.) ...

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The Big Four’s ‘special relationship’

The big news out of the Aussie Open is that the Big Four is back

Andy Murray’s magnificent run – until he collapsed against Novak Djokovic in the final – has returned him to the No. 4 spot behind Nole (No. 1), Roger Federer (No. 2) and Rafael Nadal (No. 3).

Andy’s return has got some fans comparing the Big Four to the Fab Four. (Andy, they say, would be Ringo.) I guess that would make Fed, John; Rafa, Paul; and Nole, George.

As with the Fab Four, there’s been some tension within the Big Four. Nole has said that he’s going to reach out to Andy, who was reportedly upset at possible Nole gamesmanship in the Australian Open final. Nole has denied faking an injury in their final, a taut affair early on.

“If there is a chance, if he’s willing to talk, I’ll talk, no problem,” Nole told Eurosport.com. “I have nothing to hide. I’m not the sort of guy who is pretending, who is trying to do something behind anyone’s back or is saying bad things about anybody, especially about someone I have known for a long time. I have respect for him.”

Perhaps the opportunity will come Feb. 15-28 at the Dubai Duty Free Tennis Championships. (Gee, how can we tell Dubai is the shopping capital of the world?) There Nole and Andy will be reunited with Fed, but no Rafa.

Though they’re all rivals now, Nole says, “I do look at (Andy), Rafa and Roger as my friends, honestly, because I see them so much, more than my parents and sometimes more than my wife. ...

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Of weak thighs (and nerves) at the Aussie Open

First the final. And then the fallout, right? Andy Murray – who went down to Novak Djokovic but returns to the No. 4 ranking with his appearance in the final – suggested that he was rattled by Nole’s physical crisis during the match. Nole, for his part, said it was not gamesmanship but an actual weakness in his thighs. (Weak thighs: Is there anything in sports that can’t be turned into a sexual innuendo?)

So which was it – a momentary weakness transcended or another game that men play?

A little bit of both, I think. Tennis is the most solitary of games. There’s no teammate – unless you’re playing doubles – who’ll come over to say, “We’ll get ’em in the second half.” It’s all on you. And that can be crushing not only physically but mentally, which in turn can influence the physical. I don’t doubt Nole had a momentary physical crisis. But who knows what role a fertile mind played in that? And if that happens to give him some breathing room….

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Nole wins but Andy was dandy (sort of)

Well, my uncle woke me this morning with some great news from Down Under:  Novak Djokovic has become the only man in the Open Era to win the Australian Open five times. But I think the big news, too, is that Andy Murray’s back.

He played a fantastic tournament up until the final in which he reverted to some classic Andyisms, including getting angry with himself for not capitalizing on his moments. All that means is that he has to play himself as well as his opponent.

He was gracious in defeat, however, and Nole was equally gracious in victory, wishing Andy and fiancée Kim Sears a happy wedding this year and many children. ...

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