Poor Michael Phelps. There, I said it.
I’ll say it again. Poor Michael Phelps.
It turns out he’s not an NBC/Olympics-created God, but a 23 year old kid who got caught doing what a lot of 23 year old kids do at parties.
Phelps really committed two fatal errors the night he wrapped his lips around that bong. He failed to know who his friends were in the room. And he failed to check for any opportunist with a digital camera.
The price to pay for celebrity. (Hell, I’m the lowest form of celebrity, a local TV news anchor, and even I take a look around in most places when I don’t know everybody.)
And now, some sheriff in South Carolina is apparently trying to make a name for himself by building a dope case against Phelps. (Good luck with that, Barney. Maybe Don Johnson will play you in the movie.)
Poor Michael Phelps. Captive of a digital world.
And now, the disclaimer: the writer in no way condones the actions of Mr. Phelps, and does not encourage the use of illegal narcotics. (And thanks God that digital cameras and the internet weren’t around “back in the day.”) Everybody happy?