Perhaps, you've been living under a rock. If not, you've heard something about the salacious episode of bad judgment starring Greg Oden of the Portland Trailblazers. Straight from central casting of clichés, Oden stars in naked 'self-portraits' that he took while standing in a bathroom aiming a camera phone at the mirror. Damn, that's so 2008. Actually, that's when the photos, that are now strewn across the Internet, were allegedly taken.



I remember being in Portland the summer of 2007 when Greg Oden was drafted. His image loomed large on a billboard overlooking the city that welcomed him. If only they knew what they know now, but at the time there was something electric about their hopes and excitement. The seven foot savior was coming to the great northwest with the expectations of delivering championship banners. Fast forward two and a half years later, and Oden, the youthful geriatric giant, haunted by the curse of Sam Bowie, is on the bench for the remainder of another season due to yet another injury. This isn't what the Trailblazers' fans and front office had in mind.

To literally add insult to injury, we now find Greg apologizing for a sophomoric indiscretion that's left full monty photos of himself plastered all over the web. The thing about the Internet is no matter how long your arms may be, you can't reach inside it and take back your dignity. The Internet is stingy and unforgiving that way. This is exactly why putting your "pants on the ground" to take photos of your junk is a bad idea - a crazy bad idea. This doozy is bound to make the 2010 edition of the rookie manual. Right after the stuff about gambling, on Page 2, will be a rule that reads, "Do not take pictures of YOUR JUNK and send it to someone that you will awkwardly refer to as a 'lady friend' at a press conference 18 months after she betrays your trust leaving your dumb @ss to explain your 16-year-old behavior."

Bottom line, taking photos of one's junk is not the proper decorum for a No. 1 draft pick. That's okay for the dude at the end of the bench, on a day-to-day contract, who might as well guzzle beer and chomp on nachos with the other spectators. If the coach doesn't know he exists, why does anyone else care what he does? But a number pick? That's a different ballgame. This is why star players have agents, lawyers, publicists, assistants, body guards, personal pastors...etc. They often need to be protected from themselves. I imagine the scenario goes something like this: (Knock knock) "Greg, what are you doing in there? Are your pants on the ground? Damn it, Greg, tell me you are NOT taking photos of your penis to send to your lady friend. Tell me you are NOT doing that. Didn't we talk about this?" If necessary, the intervention team needs to be ready to bust down the door DEA style and a put an end to it.

But this is America. Sometimes it feels like we do things just to have a reason to apologize. And in the grand scheme of things, this wasn't much but a youthful act of stupidity that has happened to far too many high school and college-aged kids, which is exactly what Greg is. His was just magnified, unfortunately, because of who he is. No harm, no foul.


Haven't seen the awkward apology? Roll Tape.