Mr. Cope’s Cave: Mr. Cope Cares... Except When He Really Doesn’t


Mr. Cope, you have remained remarkably silent about the Donald Sterling affair. 

Yes I have, haven’t I?

And Michael Sam... you haven’t said a word about him either.

No I haven’t, have I?

Is there a reason for this?

Do you mean, is there a reason I haven’t said anything about them? Or do you mean, is there a reason I have nothing to say about them?

Uh, I mean... well, uh... I guess I mean, why haven’t you said anything about them, as you always seem to have something to say about everything else?

I don’t care about them, that’s why.

That is a rather shocking thing for you to say. It would indicate that you have no concerns about racism or homophobia. 

It would indicate such a thing to who? Excuse me... to whom?

To anyone who is concerned about racism and homophobia, that’s whom. Er... who.

Then I would suggest to those people that they concentrate their concern directly on the racism of Donald Sterling and the homophobic reaction to Michael Sam, and leave me out of it.

Well I don’t mind telling you, Mr. Cope, that you would suddenly take such an indifferent attitude to these matters after having been so vocal about racism and homophobia for years... why, it leaves me just... just... flabbergasted.

Flabbergasted, huh? Well by golly, I don’t want to leave anyone flabbergasted. So here’s the deal, Zippy. All that Donald Sterling, Michael Sam stuff?... see, I put that all into a category I call “Jock Shit.” If it were happening out here in the “non-Jock Shit” world, I would probably be as concerned about it as you seem to think I should be.

What do you mean... “the non-Jock Shit world?”

Oh, you know. The non-Jock Shit world is where normal people don’t do abnormal things like take weird, body-altering drugs that turn us into the Hulk as they destroy our brains and testicles. Nor do we spend much of our time in locker rooms swatting our teammates with towels and calling them disgusting names. We don’t marry Kim Kardashian for a few days, or become pals with North Korean dictators, or start dog-fighting rings. We don’t flit from franchise to franchise like free agent fruit pickers and then pretend we really, really care whether the new team we’ve just signed a contract with gets to the World Series or the Super Bowl or whatever. We don’t make millions and millions of dollars for being able to catch a ball or give another player a concussion. We don’t make underwear commercials and we don’t retire in our 30s. See, that’s the world I live in and care about, the non-Jock Shit world. And anything that happens in the Jock Shit world just doesn’t interest me much.

I still think it’s rather negligent of you to be so opposed to racism and homophobia in this non-Jock Shit world of yours, yet you have nothing to say about these same offensive behaviors simply because they show up in a sphere in which you have no interest.

Well Chipper, the way I see it, the Jock Shit world has lots and lots of people paying attention to every little thing that goes on there, so I figure they don’t need either me or my two bits.

And it doesn’t bother you that a racist owns a basketball team, or that it took the NFL so long to draft the first openly gay football player? 

Nope. Because Donald Sterling’s racism doesn’t have anything to do him owning a basketball team, and it’s not going to disappear when he no longer owns a basketball team. Same with Michael Sam’s homosexuality and the reactions to it. Him being gay and him being a football player are totally separate things. He’s going to be gay long after he stops being a football player.

Whatever I think of racism and homophobia is the same whether it’s happening in the Jock Shit world, or the non-Jock Shit world. It just happens that in the cases of Donald Sterling and Michael Sam, something I care a lot about is juxtaposed with something I don’t care a damn thing about. I’m not saying one thing cancels out the other, but I’d rather leave it all up to those people who care about both things. And there’s no shortage of them, is there?

You realize, don’t you, that being so disinterested in what so many others are intensely interested in makes you appear to be the abnormal element in this larger picture?

You could see it that way, I suppose. But no matter how abnormal I might appear to be, you’d have to admit that I will never, ever be abnormal enough to marry a Kardashian, for instance. Or make an underwear commercial. Or how about this?... name my business “The Something-Something Redskins!”