David Beckham loves carbon

In his lengthy career as a famous person David Beckham has been accused of being everything from overly metro sexual to overrated. But the latest charge against the global icon is by far the most hysterical: The British environmental group Carbon Trust has done some calculating and has concluded Beckham's carbon footprint may be the largest in human history.

But what the environmental group doesn't account for is the pleasure Beckham's carbon-birthing conspicuous consumption brings to his hundreds of millions of fans in Europe, Asia, Africa and South America -- as well as the dozens of Mexican immigrants who cheer for him in Los Angeles. While slashing his carbon footprint to a more manageable Al Gore-like level of gross largess could be the right thing to do for the planet, a David Beckham with only ten luxury cars shatters the aspirational dreams of so many of the same planet's inhabitants.

Although making the switch from a wife that runs on fossil fuels to one that is at least partially solar-powered is probably right thing to do if just to help on the not-letting-the-terrorists-win front.

Idle threat of the week

Saturday David Beckham made his US soccer debut for the LA Galaxy in a match against Chelsea -- one of his old Premier League rivals from his reputation making days with Manchester United.

Beckham and his gimpy ankle only logged 13 minutes in the exhibition, but made a much longer appearance the next day at a welcome to Los Angeles party thrown by Tom Cruise and Will Smith.

This discrepancy highlights that, these days, Beckham is far, far more of a celebrity than he is an athlete.

One only has to take a quick spin around the British tabloids to realize there is a different kind of relationship between celebrity and athletics over there than there is on our side of the Atlantic.

The English seem to find the personal lives and peccadilloes of their biggest soccer stars just as fascinating as they do their most famous actors and musicians. In fact, the English cover the WAGs (wives and girlfriends) of top players with the same vigor we focus on our relatively self-made tabloid princesses.

On the other hand, in America, there is a fire wall of sorts between celebrity celebrity and athletic celebrity. Sure athletes are celebrities -- some of the biggest celebrities we have. But American media consumers have never shown anything like a mass interest in the personal lives and drunken antics of our ball players and their wives or girlfriends.

Partly this is because America is a vast country with teams located in all corners -- decentralized further by three and half major sports leagues plus the individual sports. The American athletic landscape is also, generally, a statistical meritocracy. Whereas as our dominant and enormous film and television industry sits in our two largest and most glamorous cities, and relentlessly promotes the style-over-substance personal qualities of its intertwined stars in a way that grabs the voyeurism of the average American.

Another part of this has to do with demographics: To make a sweeping generalization -- with many notable exceptions -- athletes tend to be black and/or from poorer than average economic backgrounds, while other celebrities tend to be white and/or from wealthier than average economic backgrounds. Making the coupling of athletes and celebrities (ala Becks and Posh) not exactly the most fluid of fits.

Once I got past the quarterback position, a certain Yankee shortstop, and the demographically outlying sports of auto racing, hockey, rodeo and tennis, I could only come up with Tony Parker (a Frenchmen) and Eva Longoria as an example of a recent athlete/celebrity couple. (Oh, and Alyssa Milano and a bunch of baseball players.)

It would appear the main reason the MLS threw so much money at Beckham is the hope it can promote their sport through the type of general celebrity Beckham brings.

This wouldn't be the first time the city of Los Angeles welcomed a fair-haired English-speaking foreign superstar with a famous wife and a Rolodex full of A-list names. But just like Wayne Gretzky's much ballyhooed and movie starred entry into LA didn't bring hockey to the next level, Beckham's won't bring Major League Soccer much past the first. And the attempt at a full on breach of America's separation between celebrity and athlete is the Idle Threat of The Week for July 16-22.

BTW, this is also why the award show styled ESPYs on ESPN is always such an awkward watch.

Idle threat of the week

Busy celebrating diversity, the panel of judges wasn't able to submit their ballots for Idle Threat of the Week yesterday. But they got their act together this morning and realized Dr. King's dream by recognizing Los Angeles based hip-hop artist The Game, not for the color of his skin, but for the lack of content in his threats.

The Game is known in hip-hop circles for his many "feuds" with other urban recording artists. Hip-hop feuds are generally based on an over-inflated sense of geographical pride, disregard for a rival's lyrical skills, differing schools of thoughts on what encompasses "street credibility" and issues pertaining to "respect" and "disrespect."

Although these beefs -- which usually include threats of violence -- are thought to be largely for marketing purposes, the panel has always been reluctant to award hip-hop feuders with Idle Threat mentions because the odd verbal battle will, in fact, spiral out of control and leave one or more if its participants dead.

But The Game ventured outside the world of hip-hop when he issued his latest threat, warning LA's newest resident David Beckham that:

"I'd kick David Beckham's ass on any given day. I'd just pick the ball up and kick the shit out of the stadium, game over."

The panel doesn't doubt, troops of massive bodyguards aside, The Game could kick a very pretty man such as David Beckham's ass, even on a sluggish Monday. But the panel is completely puzzled by the next line in his threat.

At this point is The Game threatening to:

a) Kick the shit (as in inflict damage) out of the stadium, ending the game because there is no longer a stadium?
b) Kick the ball out of the stadium, ending the game because there is no longer a ball?
c) Kick David Beckham out of the stadium, ending the game because there is no longer a well-coifed English soccer import?

We ask because no one on the panel has any idea. What we do know is even the genetically engineered bastard child of Ray Guy and Reggie Roby would be hard-pressed to accomplish B, and would have no chance at all at pulling off C.

As for A -- go for it buddy but, in our experience, very rarely does a man come away with victory in a foot-first battle against a massive, stable physical structure.

While incoherence does not always add up to idleness, in this case we are comfortable in our assumption that it does. Especially since The Game is a type of a writer by trade and has a lot of previous experience in making threats, so one would expect for him to make some semblance of sense if he actually meant it.

Oddly, The Game is nothing but complimentary of Beckham's declining soccer skills.

The Game usually saves his harshest words for his main rival, 50 Cent. And now Mr. Game has something Mr. Cent will never posses: Idle Threat of the Week for January 8 to 14.

Paul Revere is at home, resting comfortably

The Beckhams are coming! The Beckhams are coming!

But before you don your Indian headdress and stow off to the nearest harbor, it's important to remember that David Beckham won't really turn into the transcendent Tiger Woods/Brad Pitt-red-carpet-hogging Frankenstein some prominent columnists are declaring he could be.

America has been almost impenetrable to English celebrity ever since the Beatles and their British invasion cohorts started their decade-long run of sweet musical terror over 40 years ago.

Sure we will still allow the occasional Scot, like Sean Connery, or the odd Irish band, like U2, through. But the pure-blooded English celebrity doesn't stand much of a chance of achieving modern day glory on our side of the Atlantic.

Look no further than the music industry. The quality of popular British music and the indulgent rock star behavior of British musicians does and always has blown popular American music and musicians away. Yet when British sensations like Oasis announce their grand plans to "take" America they are inevitably rebuffed like Pakenham at New Orleans.

It's been almost a year now, and very few Americans know "who the fuck" the Arctic Monkeys are.

But it's better to be ignored then mocked at the Academy Awards. Which is what happened when English actor Jude Law foolishly tried to endear himself to us Yanks with the sheer volume of his exposure.

It's not that we don't like English people. Quite the contrary, America is perpetually enthralled with the English accent and is always ready to embrace an original English speaker -- like Anthony Hopkins or Simon Cowell -- who achieves his fame after coming to America.

But Americans are loathe to worship someone just because the Limeys did first.

David Beckham seems like a fine fellow, with a terrific attitude towards the vacuity of his fabulously commercialized existence.

And, ever since he named his first born son "Brooklyn," he has earnestly and respectfully tipped his eagerness to be as big in America as he is in Britain and the rest of the world.

So maybe the soccer star will be the guy to break the trend and claim a spot on our long, national red carpet.

But it will be somewhere in the back corner, well-behind a slew of other B-Listers who, unlike Becks, couldn't turn a head in Milan or sell a shoe in Shanghai.

* It could be argued, English quasi boy-banders Duran Duran and Wham! (and Culture Club) did break America in the mid-eighties. But that was still a long time ago.