This is simple, clear.  Louisa Thomas of The New Yorker spells out the case, breaks it down and adds an exclamation point. 

And, it just crushes my soul a bit. 

I have spent a little bit of time over the last few days wondering why I am taking a court ruling so personally and the answer is so obvious: This one was supposed to be for my nieces. It was supposed to say, "You can do whatever you want -- and it counts just as much." 

These little girls and their friends... oh, bless them in their Rapinoe kits and their Alex Morgan swag. They watch and cheer. They practice and play. They make their signs and they believe. 

We are going to leave them a polluted globe with rising waters, a politically divided place that is going to be harder to get by in. I genuinely thought we could give them this, an acknowledgement that they are valued.

Not yet. Not yet. 

I can't even imagine. If my ex was dating Lady Gaga, or anyone famous for that matter, what the hell would I feel? Well, Lindsay Crouse breaks it down for me.

And, while she is at it, she provides commentary on living in a social media age when, well, having our exes, old friends, rivals, etc. in our lives -- without really being in our lives -- is just how it is.

Crouse brings us this column in the New York Times with humor, wit, a little pain and a bit of uncomfortableness. It is vulnerable, and crazy and absolutely the best thing I've read this week. 

   


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​Athens, Ohio is my hometown. I lived my first 18 years there, graduated from Athens High School and - in a bizarre twist of fate - returned to my hometown to attend graduate school, becoming an Athenian again from age 35-40. 

Joe Burrow's dad, before he retired last year, and my brother-in-law coached together for nearly a decade at Ohio University. Burrow's mother and my sister are friends. I briefly met "Joey" when he was in high school at a few tailgate parties before Bobcats football games. I'm certain he has no idea who I am and I do not know him. I know his parents are nice people, who welcomed my family as part of theirs, with whom I've shared hugs and beers. 

I know Will Drabold, who is mentioned in this article. He was an undergraduate at Ohio University's Scripps School of Journalism, where I taught while working on my doctorate. We served on the Publications Board together. I know Mrs. Hartman, who is pictured and quoted in the story. She was a pleasant fixture at our local grocery store while I grew up. Her daughter, Katie, and I worked on the Athens High School newspaper together and were friends.

This is a story, written deftly by the New York Times' Billy Witz, about my high school, my hometown. It's a story about great things that can happen when a little light is shined on a problem. It's a story of Joe's bigger-than-life success, his humble roots and the magic of words.

While I think this is the best story I've read about Burrow, Drabold and what has happened since the Heisman Trophy presentation, this isn't the entire story.  

​Athens, Ohio is a consummate college town surrounded by the generational and crippling poverty of Appalachia. Between the town and the university, it has produced Pulitzer Prize-winners, a Nobel Prize-winner, doctors, a baseball Hall of Famer, inventors, artists, a PGA champion, actors, and more - all of whom have had a positive impact throughout the world. It also has produced a disproportionate number of hungry, homeless and hopeless people.

A gifted, young football player pointed out, on the national stage, the economic and social complexity of my hometown. Then he went out and continued to showcase greatness. I don’t find him to be a “hero" (it's simply too much to put on a 23-year-old for shining a light on a problem), but rather to be a person of whom to be proud — and a reminder that we all come from somewhere we can find pride in, too.

It's the best thing I've read this week.