Best of DLS: The Joan Rivers Hang Up

This is the most delightfully awkward hour we’ve got: a 2008 Cal Ripken Jr. interview that opens with Obama or Hillary, a wild True or Kakuwa round with Bomani Jones, and three straight guests who hang up. Buckle up.

Cal, you’ve said athletes don’t have to share every belief—why keep politics off the field, and is helping kids where you want to use your platform?

Just because you can play doesn’t mean you’re an expert on everything, so be careful with that megaphone. I’m comfortable using it to be a positive example for kids and leaving politics and religion private if I’m not fully at ease.

Are you fiery behind closed doors, and how much did A-Rod model himself after you?

I’m a question-asker, not a yeller; I like to win arguments by probing, not shouting. He asked a lot and took pieces he liked, but he’s his own guy.

Quick hits: who outworked you, who had more will, and who had better support at home—and how did that shape you as a dad?

Don Mattingly outworked everyone; Kirk Gibson’s will was a force; no one had better fatherly support than I did. As a parent I’m a blend of my mom’s hands-on presence and my dad’s old-school edge, and I try to be around more.

Are you consistent beyond the streak, and whose streak impresses you more, yours or Favre’s?

Consistency is daily value when the bat’s cold, and George Brett and Paul Molitor were my models. Favre’s was nastier—he stood in against bigger, faster people trying to hit him.

There’s a legend about Julio Franco’s, uh, reputation—any truth to it?

I’m not going there, thanks for having me.

Bomani, true or Kakuwa: charity would have fully rehabbed Barry Bonds, and there’s a race angle coming in the Te’o story.

Philanthropy doesn’t magically redeem people we’ve decided to dislike. At Notre Dame, if a non-white star is seen as embarrassing the brand, the backlash can be harsher than the actual offense—if he’s caught lying, the turn will be swift.

Joan Rivers joins us; Doyle Brunson once ripped you—why the beef?

Tell him not to chase fame on my back; when he’s lived my resume, call me. I blasted a poker player on that Trump show and I’ll defend my language; if you’re not Jewish, don’t lecture me on how loaded it is—goodbye.

I blew the open—I should have led by honoring a legend. I’m both mortified and weirdly delighted by that car crash.

You’ve got to give legends a soft landing, and tossing around Hitler is offensive; she still bailed fast.

For the record, I learned about the Brunson clash minutes before and thought it was a wild coincidence; she’s playing the Arsht Center—go see her.

Michael Phelps, welcome—what’s the wildest ‘they’re paying me how much?’ call you’ve gotten since Beijing?

Never said that; I just eat eight to ten thousand calories, train, and replace what I burn. The coolest part is launching my foundation and using the Kellogg’s partnership to push swimming safety—gotta jump.

Nick Lachey, you’ve lived through a tabloid storm—what do you make of the Tiger frenzy?

No one truly knows, and it’s between him and his family; public judgment won’t feel sorry for you, so deal with it privately as best you can.

When Jessica dated Romo, did that sting, or did you wear it like a badge?

I didn’t care; I’d moved on and I’m happy now. Let’s talk The Sing-Off—great groups, live finale coming up, vote at NBC’s site.

Want to pick games with us?

Did he just hang up? Of course he did—we can’t do anything right today.