Jimmermania has only just begun

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Jimmermania has only just begun

By Mary Paoletti
CSNNE.com

Poor Jimmer.

The kid can't even go to class anymore. Ever since BYU didn't win the NCAA title game (again), Jimmer has become so famous that his classmates have been hounding him for photos.

His father, Al, told the Post-Star that the attention "...was getting too disruptive. He can't go anywhere in Provo Utah without being recognized."

Consequently, Jimmer has to finish his course work online instead of enjoying relative obscurity like the rest of his lucky duck BYU teammates. Our fancy WGS cameras have gotten some great photos of The Jimmer getting hounded by these disrespectful jerks.

The pictures tell a sad story.

There have also been offers to make appearances for a lot of money. The Fredettes said one corporation offered to pay Jimmer 20,000 and take care of all of his expenses to appear at an event in Miami.

"I asked him what he does on campus when he goes out," said Al Fredette. "He said he wears a hoodie and tries not to make eye contact."

He should have tried pulling the hoodie over his eyes. That might have helped.

But, alas, the attention didn't stop no matter where Fredette traveled to collect his national player of the year awards. He was followed to the Final Four in Houston (where BYU never played) and to Los Angeles, where he won the John R. Wooden Award.

It was in LA that Jimmer tried a clever tactic used by his hero, Raven Symone.

It didn't work. Jimmer's bold statement only made the photographers and autograph-seekers hungrier. This is when things got really ugly: Fredette freaked.

He got angry for the first time when returning to his dorm after getting a post-season manicure.

The next night Jimmer was supposed to go to an umbrella convention, but a super fan parked his car at the end of the driveway to wait for a photo-op.

He got one:

Tragedy struck when the guy whose car got busted up asked Jimmer to sign one of the bigger dents in the vehicle.

Fredette ate them all. Every single person.

Maybe it's a good thing that BYU lost in the Sweet 16.

Friday, Feb. 24: 'Slap Shot' turns 40

Friday, Feb. 24: 'Slap Shot' turns 40

Here are all the links from around the hockey world, and what I’m reading, while always holding a special place in my heart for Dickie Dunn as my favorite "Slap Shot" character. If Dickie Dunn wrote it, then it must be true.

*The ESPN hockey crew puts together some of their best scenes and favorite lines from "Slap Shot" as the movie hits 40 years old. I was first introduced to Slap Shot in my high school years and I liked it for the Hanson Brothers as much as for anything else, but that is a movie that just gets better and better every time I watch it. And I’ve watched it dozens and dozens of times. God bless Paul Newman for agreeing to lend his Hollywood star power to such a crazy, hilarious and raucous love letter to hockey.

*FOH (Friend of Haggs) Brian Wilde is recognizing the limitations of the Canadiens even under new coach Claude Julien.

*Bryan Bickell is stepping even closer to a return to the Carolina Hurricanes as he battles through his MS diagnosis.

*Kevin Shattenkirk apparently turned down a sign-and-trade with the Tampa Bay Lightning this season, and also turned down a chance to get dealt to the Edmonton Oilers last summer as well. I think the Blues D-man has a short list of teams he wants to sign with as a free agent, and neither one of those teams is on the list.

*Darren Dreger weighs in on Shattenkirk as well, and the price tag of a top prospect, first-round pick and NHL player for the puck-moving rental D-man seems very excessive.

*Things are coming to a head with Evander Kane and the Buffalo Sabres as he takes his play to a high level in Buff over the last few months.

*Interesting piece on Ed Snider’s daughter becoming an advocate for medicinal marijuana after his father’s health battles.

*For something completely different: Looks like a new season of "The Voice" coming our way.


 

'Why would the girls be treated any differently than the boys?'

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'Why would the girls be treated any differently than the boys?'

I grew up playing sports. For the most part I played soccer, but I also ran cross-country and track, I skied, snowboarded, and, at one point, I tried gymnastics. (It wasn't pretty.) My two younger sisters did the same. Our parents ran themselves ragged driving us to practices and tournaments, arranging carpools and fundraisers.

It never crossed our minds that we were girls playing sports. It's just what we did. And we loved it!

I didn't realize how lucky I was until visiting my grandparents in rural Ohio one summer. I found an old photo of their high school graduating class. I asked my grandmother what sports she played in school and I'll never forget her answer: "Oh, there were no sports for girls back then. We could cheer for the boys basketball team, but that was it."

I was shocked. I thought that was ridiculous. Why would the girls be treated any differently than the boys? I couldn't comprehend it.

Looking back, I'm so thankful I grew up in a time and environment where that wasn't the case. I can't imagine my life without sports. Not only because it's what I do for a living, but because playing sports throughout my childhood is a big part of what made me the person I am today.

Sports taught me the value of hard work. Being part of a team, I learned how to communicate and work with people to accomplish a common goal . . . and discovered just how gratifying the process can be. I became a teammate and leader who earned respect and empowered others. I made lasting friendships while stuffed like a sardine in a travel van singing Ace of Base at the top of my lungs. I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything. And I certainly wouldn't be in the position I'm in without them.

Don't get me wrong; it hasn't all been positive. Now that I'm a woman working in sports, I've had other kinds of eye-opening moments. During an interview for my first on-air job I was asked, in so many words, if this is really a career for me or if I had other plans after I found a husband. Once I did land a job, I covered many college football games by myself. There was one small school in particular whose players relentlessly catcalled me on the sidelines. I won't repeat the foul things they said, but I can tell you I went home feeling very dirty (and it wasn't because I  was pouring sweat after lugging a camera that weighed half as much as I did from end zone to end zone in the middle of an Alabama summer). Even now, every so often, social media has a special way of reminding me how some people still view women in sports. Surprise -- it's not good.

But if that's the worst I have to go through, I know I can't complain. My only focus is doing my job to the very best of my abilities and working as hard as I possibly can to continue to grow and get better. We've come a long way. I'm so grateful for those who blazed the trail and made it possible for me to do what I do. And, thanks to my grandmother, I will never take my opportunities for granted. My hope is that when my daughter grows up, she will be just as surprised and appalled by some of my bad experiences as I was talking to my grandmother that day.