I Was Feeling Hopeful… Until Ryan Lochte


Well, thank you very much, Ryan Lochte. In the midst of this absolutely ridiculous election year, a year that has actually been injuring my pride in America, I was so pleased to be able to take a break from the politicians and focus on average Americans with way-above-average skills for a while. I even dared hope that taking home about half of all available Olympic medals would earn us back some respect. (“See? These people running for president, they don’t really represent us as well as these athletes do.”)

Then Lochte trashes a gas station bathroom and concocts a wild story about a gun being held to his forehead, lying straight-faced to reporters with nary a thought as to how this would impact the host country of Rio de Janeiro or anybody else.

My personal apologies to Rio for his bad behavior. Sorry for the temporary black eye it gave you, and I’m glad that you were able to sort things out quickly, working diligently to do so even as our star athlete came scurrying home, leaving his teammates to fend for themselves.

If he ran home to mama, I hope she slammed the door in his face. (“Is that how I raised you? To lie?”) And his father, too (“I drove you to practice every day for 12 years and this is the thanks I get?”) And, of course, his girlfriend. (“I saw the Club France photo, Lyin’ Ryan! Just makes me wonder what else you’ve lied about!)

If he ran back to the University of Florida, I hope the swim coach turned his back on him. I hope they took his photo off the locker room wall and put it in the bathroom next to the Keep It Clean sign.

Of course, these are the people everybody feels sorry for, but there are others.

What about the poor film editor who did that wonderful montage of Olympic highlights that they ran on TV Friday night? He gets the whole thing done and his boss rushes in and says, “We need extra footage put in of Lochte! He was nearly murdered at gunpoint! He’s lucky to be alive!” And then, a few days later (with the entire thing redone), “Lochte made the whole thing up! Cut him! Cut him!”

And what about Lochte’s manager? The one who has been juggling multiple high-dollar offers for endorsements with companies like Ralph Lauren and Speedo? The one who may have gotten a nice percentage off those endorsements? What is he going to do? Lochte’s future public appearances now include a long string of apologies, and those don’t pay that well.

So, as a world-renowned liar getting tons of exposure, there’s really only one option left open to him — he has to run for president.