An Open Letter to Jay Glazer

Note: This is in response to the recent article from sportswriter Jay Glazer, attacking the residents of Kentucky. If you haven’t yet had the chance to read his words of wisdom, I’d suggest you take a trip to this site and see for yourself. It should be enough to make your blood boil.

Jay,

As a proud resident of the Bluegrass State, I’d like to take issue with a few points in your recent article for Fox Sports. For starters I should point out that Fox Sports tends to be the last place I go for sports information, news and insight. With an internet so jam packed with sports analysis that it even may rival pornography, Fox is typically lazy, uninspired and behind the curve. Substituting “edgy” commentary is simply a smokescreen deployed to cover for your complete and total lack of actual journalistic ability. After spending an extended period of time with the Cincinnati Bengals, given full access to the team and the staff, you chose to spend the majority of your piece picking apart strangers, belittling locals and harassing wait staff. Truly, you are a man of principle and unsurpassed integrity.

The sun would set on the upcoming NFL season before I could accurately and thoroughly examine each and every idiotic, hypocritical and/or likely fabricated aspect of this piece of trash. Thus, in the interest of brevity, I have decided to address only a few of your points.

1. First of all, it’s in a dry county. Why is there anywhere in America that is dry? Let’s get real people. Not selling alcohol in one area is the dumbest thing in the world. You know what it does? It forces you to travel long distances to the next county to get drunk and then drive aaaaalllll the way back to Georgetown. How stupid is this rule? It also leads to the freaking hillbilly who was selling moonshine out of the back of his truck. Did I just say moonshine? Did I just say hillbilly? Folks, I’m not making this stuff up.

There are actually people who still sell moonshine in Kentucky and there was a guy giving it out from the back of his pickup the weekend I was there.

Now, Mr. Glazer, I’m going to take issue with two of your points here. For starters, I agree that the idea of dry/wet counties is antiquated. However, this all becomes a moot point when you take into account that, despite your claims to the contrary, Georgetown is actually wet. Alcohol sales are legal in Georgetown restaurants, with sales prohibited on Sunday. Many cities in our country practice this policy, but I doubt you practiced any real investigative journalism other than half-assed assumptions. I can attest to the fact that alcohol is sold in Georgetown, having actually consumed alcohol in Georgetown.

Secondly, the residents of Scott County, to the best of my knowledge, have never been forced to drive while intoxicated. Although Sunday sales in another city may be inconvenient, the choice to get drunk and then drive is not one made by anyone other than yourself.

Finally, your assertion that you personally witnessed someone selling moonshine from the back of a pickup truck is one that I find remarkably hard to believe. Accessing Lexington from Georgetown takes you through a rather populated area, then to an interstate. Having lived in this state for 25 years, I can assure you that I have never once seen someone pulled to the side of the road with a pickup truck full of moonshine in a populated area. At best, I’d imagine that you were confused and projected your own stereotype onto an innocent person; at worst (and my money’s on this one) I’m fairly sure that you’re just making things up.

2. Let’s be honest, parts of Kentucky don’t exactly have a reputation for hording the members of MENSA or the contestants for the National Spelling Bee.

Kentucky has produced Academy Award winners, Grammy winning musicians, acclaimed authors and journalists, and even Hunter S. Thompson. In a state with a population roughly half the size of your beloved New York City, I’d imagine that all-in-all we’re doing rather well. Furthermore, is your bias toward New York so striking that you find yourself unable to notice the utter cesspool of stupidity that surrounds you each day? Or are those construction workers quoting Oscar Wilde to beautiful women as they walk by?

3. Then, I didn’t see this sign but I heard about it, the local Wendy’s originally had their big sign out front say, “Now hiring closers.” However, the “c” in closers fell off so for a while Wendy’s was “Now hiring losers.”

Such courageous journalism, reporting hearsay in a major news publication. If you found this fact so mightily amusing, may I suggest actually driving across town to observe for yourself. Or were you too drunk to drive at that point… maybe someone should have forced you. To suggest that the residents of a community are lacking in mental prowess because a letter fell from a sign is hardly reasonable. Rather than the public schools, I tend to blame gravity.

4. (The following is an excerpt from Glazer’s piece in which he details his heroic exploits in belittling a local restaurant manager)

Goober Pyle, Manager Extraordinaire: “I understand you ordered three rounds but we can’t do that because all alcohol has to be finished by 11.”

Aggressive New Yawka Glaze: “That’s OK buddy, we’ll have them finished off for you, no problem.”

Goober Pyle, Manager Extraordinaire: “We can’t do that, the police will take them out of your hands. I’m sorry.”

Aggressive New Yawka Glaze: “It’s OK, I’m willing to do the time.”

Goober Pyle, Manager Extraordinaire: “Sorry, it’s not going to happen. I can only give you one. We’re only looking out for your best interests.”

Are you kidding me? This is where I got a little… frustrated shall I say.

Aggressive New Yawka Glaze: “Doogie, you want to protect my best interests, get me a damn 401K plan! Don’t let me buy a dog from Bad Newz Kennels but don’t tell me you’re going to play drink police.”

Goober Pyle, Manager Extraordinaire: “It’s for your own safety, sir.”

Aggressive New Yawka Glaze: “I’m so lucky to have a guardian angel like you at my side. Seriously, where were you when I fell out of that tree house when I was 8, or the time I got my ass choked out in the Octagon or the time I took a blow torch in high school and cut off the roof of my car so I could have a convertible. Thank you so much oh Hillbilly guardian.”

Goober Pyle, Manager Extraordinaire: “(Blank look)”

I would first like to point out that I don’t believe even for a second that this is a reasonable transcript of this conversation. The event occurred at The Pub on Nicholasville Road. If you’ve ever been to The Pub, you’ve surely noticed that the crowd/music volume makes even basic conversations strained at best, and hardly lends itself to such witty discourse. I would suggest that the conversation probably began with a courteous explanation of the rules from the manager, followed by some sophomoric “retort” from a cranky, childish sportswriter. I’d imagine that the phrase “do you know who I am?” was uttered, I’d imagine that there was a great deal of whining and I’d imagine that, like everyone else, Glazer began to think of a whole host of witty comebacks after the manager had left the table. Those afterthoughts quickly became the core of his article, as he verbally slaps his buddies on the back at the thought of demeaning a man who has chosen an occupation so incomprehensibly more difficult than sportswriting that my brain can’t even seem to comprehend how they could both simultaneously exist in the same conversation without causing a tremendous rip in the universe that sucked in the entirety of Lexington… or was that just Glazer’s mouth doing the sucking?

As for the blank look, I doubt it had much to do with your snappy conversational skills but perhaps more to do with the fact that you were just another table of aging frat boys getting cranky for being told “no” to something. He wasn’t stunned by your brilliance or frightened by your Aggressive New Yawka attitude, he just thought that you were an asshole.

5. The best part of it was we had to drive another 20 minutes to find another place to drink and the waitress from The Pub actually found us there and wanted to sit and drink with us. Let’s get this straight, you refuse to serve us and then want to sit and have drinks with us? Aggressive New Yawka Glaze made that the most uncomfortable five minutes of conversation she’s spent in a bar in a long, long time.

No, let’s get THIS straight. A server, just trying to make ends meet, did her job as she was instructed by her manager. For that, she should be shunned by you as she attempts to be polite outside of a work environment? Let me read between the lines of your story, telling the actual truth behind your words:

So, I goes to dis bar. I’m not from ’round there, ya know, so I don’t know much about what the local laws are. I demand three drinks from dis waitress, but she can’t serve ’em to me because her boss and the local police are enforcing the law. I act like a baby, see, ’cause I’m a tough New Yawka, but still don’t get my way. So, my buddies and I get up and show off, ’cause we’re big shot New Yawkas, and go somewhere else. Then, if you can believe it, that girl dat wouldn’t serve us da beer actually tried to come up to us and be friendly… she even apologized! Well hell, I showed her what a tough guy I am. I made her feel uncomfortable until she finally left. Man, those Kentucky folks sure are jerks.

To summarize, no one is impressed with your half-hearted spanking of a gracious state that undoubtedly welcomed you with open arms. The comments you’ve made in the above article are not only factually incorrect, but are as shockingly offensive to the residents of the region as an Amos & Andy cartoon. To consider yourself a real journalist is genuinely laughable, and I certainly hope that you don’t. You were sent to cover an NFL training camp, and after approximately one paragraph of actual camp coverage went on to lambaste an entire region of the country.

Personally, it’s not the offensive language that bothers me the most. It’s the knowledge that the offensive language is merely covering for your total inability to actually write productively about the subject which you have chosen to cover. It’s an old trick, pulled by every back-slapping yahoo in every bar in America. When you don’t know what you’re talking about, change the subject or just start mocking those around you to make yourself feel better. You are truly a big man, Jay Glazer, a big tough New Yawka that distorts the truth, picks on innocent servers and is incapable of stringing together a coherent piece on the one thing that you were actually sent to cover. But honestly, with the sterling standard of journalistic excellence put into play each day at Fox News, I can’t quite see why I’m surprised.

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9 Responses to “An Open Letter to Jay Glazer”

  1. Cory Says:

    Since the publication of this letter, Fox Sports has pulled the column. The quotes attributed to Jay Glazer are still valid, taken verbatim from his original text. Unfortunately, if you haven’t yet seen the article, you probably never will.

    I am, of course, taking full credit for its removal from the Fox website… even though I’m sure that I had nothing to do with it.

  2. Warren Says:

    Yeah, us poor Cantukians r no match fer them there high falutant Fox News people. Our egdumakashen is no where near mr. glaze.

    It’s no wonder why people are displeased with Fox. I thought it was bad enough that Fox started shoving horrible shows on their network with only a few sprinkles of actual entertainment. But they had to go and think they can produce an informative news broadcast. Don’t make me laugh. Besides, I get all of my sports info from ESPN. Do you know what that is Mr. Glazer? Probably not after seein your half-assed attempt at a sports news article. You might want to wonder over there and see what a sports commentary is like. They are totally devoted to sports and report on sports. It’s a hell of a concept. They report on what they see and know instead of listening to others on what “might have happened”. They may dog players, coaches, teams, etc. but I have never seen them bad mouth a region. Oh, wait, you probably tried to get on with them. They probably seen some of your work and told you to hit the road because they wanted to keep their integrity in tact.

    And I have read your article, and all you did was bad mouth this great state. Hardly an ounce of journalism was in there. So, why are you a journalist? Does Fox read what their employees put out? This article is proof that they don’t. They don’t care what goes on. It’s either that or they are too busy trying to make President Bush look good. And I will have to admit that is a daunting task.

    You sir, need to grow up. Maybe you didn’t like going on this assignment. Suck it up. I would say it’s a safe bet that all around the nation that there are times employees hate assignments given to them at their jobs. Not every aspect of our jobs are glamourous. You poor baby had to write about the Bengels and travel to their camp. So freaking what. There are worse things than that. Hell, watch Dirty Jobs on Discovery channel. Or maybe it’s that you just don’t like yourself and have to build yourself up. Maybe, you have to degrade those that you think are superior to you. Or does your inferiority stems from somewhere else? Maybe you are unhappy with an aspect of your body. Maybe you aren’t the man that you wish to be. Just speculating here.

    So, Mr. Glaze, you need to grow up. You know what, keep writing your style of commentaries. It won’t be long until people will be sending you away or requesting that you not cover their story. Why? Because there is this thing called “home town pride”. No matter where you go, the vast majority of the people living in a town love their town. They love where they live and are proud of their town. And they don’t want someone they invited in and extended a friendly arm to just to have that person verbally assalut their town and state. I could attack New York and where you live but I am not going to. I know it’s not their fault that an idiot like you gives them a bad name. I am sure there are great people in New York. It’s just sad that they get represented by scum like you Mr. Glaze. Have a nice day.

  3. Aaron Says:

    Good work, Cory.

    Jay Glazer is a fat jackoff. I didn’t read this particualr article, but I am sure it was chock full of profound journalistic gems, just like so much of his other work that I actually been delirious enough to actually read or watch.

    But something I don’t udnerstand — is it really true that the Pub actually stops serving alcohol at 11:00, when the rest of Lexington goes until what, 2 in the morning or so?

  4. Warren Says:

    Yeah, the Pub closes at 12. So, last call is an hour before closing. Hence the 11:00 last call.

  5. Kevin Says:

    Point No. 1: Fantastic post. I have sent this to several friends and all agree that this is the best reponse to Glazer’s column. I do believe that’s called “getting your ass handed to you.”

    Point No. 2: My friend Daniel added this problem with Glazer’s column from this section: “Let’s be honest, parts of Kentucky don’t exactly have a reputation for hording the members of MENSA or the contestants for the National Spelling Bee.”

    Um, yeah, Glazer misspelled “hording.”

  6. Terry Shelton Says:

    Folks, this guy has got be to be held accountable for this. Keep the heat up on FOXSPORTS and sponsors.

  7. Monsignor Henry Clay Says:

    Thank you intertubes:

    http://209.85.165.104/search?q=cache:M_iVHWpisREJ:msn.foxsports.com/nfl/story/7145394%3FCMP%3DOTC-K9B140813162%26ATT%3D5+http://msn.foxsports.com/nfl/story/7145394&hl=en&ct=clnk&cd=1&gl=us

  8. Daylan Says:

    I’m fine with that.

    I imagine Fox pulled the article once they realized that Kentucky was a red state.

  9. Jefffffffff Says:

    Well, I think this Glazer article is a godsend. If there’s anything this state needs, it’s for everyone to buy into the stereotype, to lull them into a false sense of security. They come over to Kentucky for dinner and laugh at us as we prepare their meal, tripping over our shoelaces that we can’t tie and peeling road kill off the pavement. We stuff ’em til they don’t know what’s what and then… BAM! Fork in the eye. All of their eyes. (They being everyone that’s not a Kentuckian, I guess?). So they’re all blinded now, right? And then we eloquently tell them there is no escape– or rather, there IS an escape, but they’ll never make it because we’ve jammed forks in their eyes. Several million forks, get me? And while they stumble around, grasping for something, anything, some kind of sense of the situation, we sneak into New York, Chicago, etc., with our pick-up trucks and attach them to the skyscrapers, and pull them back to our state. Soon, KY will be the new metropolis, and, drunk on moonshine and with our bellys full of grits, we will dance, troops. DANCE ON THEIR CITY-SLICK BODIES! BWAHAHAR

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