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Michael Jackson made me feel like a sports fan, a see-no-evil, shoot-the-messenger fanatic.
So I understand why some Kansas State fans are upset with me, irate over the column I wrote a week ago that pointed out that Jon Wefald and Bill Snyder’s influence at the university has been undermined by an unflattering financial audit.
I also understand why three Johnson County housewives wasted part of their Friday evening at Capital Grille accusing me of hating the University of Missouri. I get why Kansas fans think I can’t stand Mark Mangino.
We’re all capable of putting our blinders on for the team, school, celebrity or person who brings us joy, particularly if we keep a safe distance from the object of our affection.
That’s probably why I shed tears when the text messages from friends started rolling in about Jackson’s death. A friend in Vegas texted me the news even before it was reported on CNN. I thought it was a bad joke. But then a friend in Blue Springs seconded the report just as CNN flashed the news.
I immediately turned the sound off my TV, plugged in my iPod and began jamming some of Michael’s classic hits. I had no interest in hearing about the rollercoaster ride Jackson’s personal life took the last 20 years.
Call me naïve, foolish or maybe even stupid, but I don’t believe the trash that has been written and said about Michael Jackson the past two decades. More important, I don’t want to believe it.
Jackson’s death reminds me why sports fans get intensely angry with me. Sports, like music, are supposed to be a diversion, a distraction from life’s unpleasant realities.
Sometimes journalists absolutely ruin that. We seek to show the similarities between the real world and the sports world. That’s my column shtick. I love to expose how greed and vanity cause our sports celebrities to make the same mistakes as politicians.
I can’t say I’m ever going to change, or that journalism should change. I just better recognize how some of you feel.
I just want to enjoy Michael Jackson’s music. I don’t want to know or debate whether he bleached his skin white. And you’ll never convince me Michael molested children. Never.
You’ll never convince me because I’ll never take the time to research the evidence. I won’t even listen to people discuss it.
Like a successful sports team, Michael’s music inspired everyone who listened to it. His music brought us together along racial, religious and economic lines. Forget comparisons to Elvis — Michael was the Martin Luther King Jr./John F. Kennedy of music. Michael touched all of us. He wrote and performed songs that appealed to people in the inner cities, the sticks and the suburbs.
There’s never been an athlete, entertainer or politician as colorless and non-divisive as Michael Jackson.
I’m sorry. I know I sound childish, but it’s impossible for me to believe that a human being who inspired so much peace, love and harmony could be capable of the heinous act of molesting a child.
His celebrity was just too big.
Now, I’m a very small-time “celebrity.” I’m blown away by the stories I hear repeated about me.
Just last week, I was contacted by a friend who said I stood up a prominent Kansas City church on Father’s Day. I allegedly agreed to speak at the church for $750 and stiffed the church’s men’s group without as much as an apologetic phone call. It was all totally untrue.
Later in the week, another friend told me that her family couldn’t stand me because of my “obvious political bias.” From reading my columns, they were convinced that I belonged to a particular political party and intentionally blasted the competing party. I informed her that I routinely get ripped by Democrats and Republicans, and I’ve admitted in print to never having participated in the political process. I don’t like politicians.
I’m nothing in comparison to Michael Jackson, but people still speculate and jump to the wrong conclusions about me. It had to be 10 million times worse for Jackson. His every action was scrutinized. There was plenty of financial incentive to lie about Jackson.
I’ll stop. I’m a fan. I have no interest in learning of Jackson’s shortcomings, if he had any.
I just want to continue to enjoy the gift of his music.
To reach Jason Whitlock, call 816-234-4869 or send e-mail to jwhitlock@kcstar.com. For previous columns, go to KansasCity.com
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