Where is NCAA president Mark Emmert? That the scandal is academic and not athletic is irrelevant. The president has already shown a devil-may-care willingness to disregard tradition and intervene at Penn State.
Major League Baseball had a problem. When multiple reports in January linked a slew of players, including Ryan Braun and Alex Rodriguez, to a Coral Gables, Fla., anti-aging clinic called Biogenesis of America, the league needed to act.
No uniform, khaki or burgundy, completely holds the 26-year-old Kettani. He spent three years on active duty, deployed aboard the frigate U.S.S. Klakring with 20-hour days and enough stress to make high-pressure situations seem normal.
While Robert Griffin III succeeded in narrowing the scope of conversation Thursday, the larger question surrounding his contentment about how he was used by Mike Shanahan and Redskins last season hasn't disappeared.
Yocum never threw a pitch, waved a runner home or swung a trade for the Nationals. But the renowned orthopedic surgeon's influence on the organization is everywhere you look. The impact, really, is as indelible as the scars on the right elbows of Stephen Strasburg and Jordan Zimmermann.
For the third straight year, he's playing for a long-term contract that, so far, has been as elusive as pre-knee surgery Robert Griffin III in the open field.
The Redskins quarterback choked up as he described the aftermath of the Jan. 8 surgery when Dr. James Andrews also repaired the lateral collateral ligament.
This isn't simply an opportunity for general manager Ernie Grunfeld to add to the gifted young core of John Wall and Bradley Beal while solidifying the gap at small forward, much in the same way the Oklahoma City Thunder built a juggernaut through the draft and savvy trades driven by the long view, not instant gratification.
The not-so-subtle implication racing through the Internet of a concussion conspiracy by the Nationals makes as much sense as, well, running into walls. What could they possibly gain by pretending Harper didn't have a concussion or engaging in a game of semantics to avoid using the word?
Harper's second unsuccessful encounter this month with the physics of smacking into an outfield wall led to him doubling down on the hair-on-fire approach. He told reporters "I'm trying to kill myself out there" and, really, that's what the collision looked like.
Already, the NFL is swamped by litigation in federal court from 4,336 former players, at last count, over head injuries sustained during their careers. That includes 33 Pro Football Hall of Famers. It's a problem no public relations assault or rules changes or donation spree has been able to shake. The NHL's turn is here.
The brain-shredding neurodegenerative disease took root in Junior Seau's brain before he shot himself in 2012. Same with Ray Easterling, who also took his own life last year. Dave Duerson pulled the trigger in 2011. Dozens of other former NFL players were diagnosed.
No NFL mock draft mentioned the outgoing, mop-haired offensive lineman from Central Michigan. No trip to the pre-draft combine or big-name agent or endorsement deal. A YouTube video of one of his workouts garnered 373 hits. So, Repovz watched the draft's final day at Buffalo Wild Wings and hoped, but didn't expect, to hear his name mentioned.
The last pitch Nationals right-hander Stephen Strasburg threw in Atlanta on Monday night touched 98 miles per hour. But that wasn't enough -- oh, not even close -- to quell the wave of near-panic over his pitching arm's health.
This is a different sort of draft for the Redskins, one, at long last, with a quarterback to build around instead of the years-long quest for competency at the position. Possibility lurks among the cliches.
At least 59 former players named in the litigation are dead, according to a review by The Washington Times. The deceased players aren't an abstract legal argument. They can't be fixed with a slick 30-second commercial about the NFL's safety evolution or mandatory thigh and knee pads or mouldering collective bargaining agreements.
White accused the NFL of concealing the long-term consequences of head injuries. Eleven causes of action in all. Fraud. Negligence. Even added "intentional infliction of emotional distress" and "negligent infliction of emotional distress" in his short-form complaint. All that disappeared when the possibility of an NFL contract materialized this week.
The Medal of Honor recipient pushed away a temporary blue bracelet on his left wrist to reveal a black aluminum band covered with silver etching. "These are the eight soldiers we lost that day," he said, shortly before throwing out the ceremonial first pitch at Nationals Park.