Retire. Please

All season long, 82 excruciating games worth, Kobe Bryant was given the Pope treatment. He was some sort of super-hero to be idolized every place he went. Thank God, he has finally retired.

There are many others.

Brett Favre retired, unretired, and re-retired to the point of being nauseating. He didn't seem to know whether he was going or coming back. It appears he's done too, save for dopey TV commercials.

Over the hill hoopsters like Vince Carter and Paul Pierce keep hanging on with whatever team will still have them. They need to go. Please.

Robert Griffin III somehow remains newsworthy. Maybe this NFL team will take him, or maybe that one. Thing is -- since he came out of college -- he's pretty well stunk it up for the Washington Redskins. Not only were his stats bad, but he can't even stay healthy. Who needs a guy like that quarterbacking their team? Please go away.

Another super-hero was one Eldrick Tont Woods. He tore up the golf circuit for about a decade winning all kinds of stuff. But now his game is in a shambles, and he can't stay healthy either. Tiger needs to hang it up before he embarrasses himself any more than he already has. A comeback? Forget that. Ain't gonna happen. Not a chance. For once, he needs to do something gracefully and bow out.

Peyton Manning finally, thank you Lord, rode off into the sunset. Sure he and the Broncos won the Super Bowl, but that was in spite of Manning. He stunk it up all year, including in the SB, but the Denver defense overwhelmed the Carolina Panthers. Old chicken neck that never saw an endorsement he didn't like -- be gone. Let us give thanks.

Mercifully, the likes of Regis Philbin, William Shatner, and most of the Gumbel boys have faded away. And we haven't seen a Baldwin shamelessly hyping himself or whatever else in a while.

Alas, they have been replaced by Kardashians, politicians, and moronic talking heads on sports channels. The former will go away eventually-- like the Gabors once did -- but we're likely stuck with the shysters running for office and the breathless stat spouting drivel (everybody's the greatest) of the 4-letter network yappyheads. These people will get orgasmic over the mundane. It's like they never saw anybody dunk a basketball before. Or make a leaping/diving catch. Or sink a 20 foot putt. Any home run in baseball over 400 feet is considered a "monster shot". It's like they wake up in a new world every day.

Some time ago, people like Sparky Anderson and Jim Leyland were finally put out to pasture. When they had great talent on their teams -- they won. When they didn't -- they lost. Pretty simple. Smoking a pipe and/or growling words of pseudo-wisdom to the press was nothing but smoke and mirrors all along. Only the people that WANTED to believe in such nonsense bought into it. Kind of like the above-mentioned politicos and/or hard-core sports fan cough-taters that think Trey Wingo deserves his own book in the Bible. That dude plays to the camera like your average hooker plays to a Cadillac Escalade with tinted windows rolling down her street.

Idle thought: If so many dudes in the NBA want to express their individualism -- than why are they all covered with the same prison-looking tats in the same colored ink? Good luck trying to decipher what any of that graffiti on their body is supposed to mean. Maybe THEY know. Or maybe they don't, and just think it's somehow cool. Regardless, it comes across as a sign of trying to look tough. Hey, NBA players are decidedly not tough. They might be a little more alpha male-ish than the ladies on the LPGA circuit -- or even Major League Baseball players -- and for sure the soccer wimps -- but for guys that want to project a he-man image -- they sure seem to whine and cry a lot over the slightest contact. Instead of the tats turning them into Supermen -- are they turning them into Barney Fifes instead? I dunno, but it looks that way at times.

On a more somber note, God has a way of retiring people. Eventually, it applies to everybody. The late William Clay Ford, long-time hapless owner of the Detroit Lions, was recalled into the heavenly land of Edsels a couple years ago. Perhaps many Lions' fans breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, it was sad old Willie had to pass on, but at least they could get a fresh start to hopefully a better future.

Not so fast. His 90-year old widow Martha and their daughters inherited the team. Good luck with that. If and when Martha is "retired", the girls will take over. And then probably THEIR kids, and grandkids in the future.

The only way the Lions ever become competitive is for the Ford family to sell them to someone that knows how to properly run an NFL franchise. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, needs to retire more from the football business than the Ford family. It would benefit the team, the city, and the long-suffering fans.

But the chances of that happening? Likely about the same as Peyton, Kobe, Brett, Tiger, and the ever lovable former Captain Kirk never showing up in a future stupid commercial. Or a Kardashian "mooning" it up with a "selfie" they can't wait to post on social media or the internet for -- ahem -- maximum exposure.

Don't hold your breath........