OJ Simpson - A Study in Balls

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In fact, he may be the ballsiest man alive.

Police arrested O.J. Simpson on Sunday, saying he was part of an armed group who burst into a Las Vegas hotel room and snatched memorabilia that documented his own sports career, long ago eclipsed by scandal.

Simpson was at the Clark County Detention Center on Sunday night for booking on two counts of robbery with a deadly weapon, two counts of assault with a deadly weapon, conspiracy to commit a crime and burglary with a firearm, police said. The district attorney, meanwhile, said he expected Simpson to ultimately be charged with seven felonies and one gross misdemeanor.

Simpson, 60, has said he and other people were retrieving items that belonged to him. Simpson has said there were no guns involved and that he went to the room at the casino only to get stolen mementos that included his Hall of Fame certificate and a picture of the running back with J. Edgar Hoover.
Astounding... Yeah, he is... the ballsiest.

I guess you just can't satisfy some people. They can never be far enough ahead or up or... I don't even know. But I know they can't leave well enough alone

Here's a man who got away with the CRIME-OF-THE-CENTURY and then-- Wait, I'm sorry, what's missing there? That thing that people say all the time, for all the wrong reasons but it's actually appropriate here? Literally! Yes, that's it. He LITERALLY got away with the crime of the century...

That's what it was dubbed, right? The trial of the century. The crime at the center of that trial would therefore be the crime of the century, right? Also making him the criminal of the century? I don't think it trickles down to, like, bailiff of the century and stenographer of the century or "guy who sells oat bars, bananas and Certs," of the century, but I'm confident with my use of "crime of...."

He gets away with murder, two of them, actually. Scot
free, with the exception of some fines he hasn't really payed yet.

He gets to live a leisure-filled life as a wealthy man, playing golf, dining out, etc.

He surprisingly, somehow, manages to go through his days getting neither attacked nor hassled nor pelted with debris nor... anything, really.

But that's not enough. He says, why not write a book about this murder? Even though the father of one of my victims is still alive aaaannd people whose daughters have been murdered tend to have a sore spot for people profiting from their daughter's death... even in situations where the guy profiting doesn't happen to be the guy who also did the killing... Yeah.

He gets away with all of this.

And then he finds himself in a hotel room, shortly before the above scenario, hearing about a few guys who may be in possession of some of his own stolen sports memorabilia... He could have called the police... or tried talking to the men... or, even, realized that even without the memorabilia, he's still ahead in the grand scheme of things, undoubtedly richer than the men hawking the goods and you know what, life's too short, who cares, they can have the stuff, etc...

But what does he do? He says... (Long pause. Picture him turning towards camera, finger pointed in anger.)

"No... FUCK THAT... I want that fucking signed jersey and the fucking rookie card, right god damn now! And I'm gonna go get it!"

Balls.

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