Skip Bayless, Jalen Rose 'First Take' Fight Yields 2 Important Lessons

It hasn't exactly been a relaxing week for ESPN's Senior Czar of Contrarianism, who has found himself in an unprecedented position for the first time during his tenure at the World-Wide Leader: the defensive.

There he was Tuesday on First Take, getting clowned by Jalen Rose instead of doing the clowning, trying to change the subject, doing a duck-and-cover instead of flinging out insults with an Uzi-rate of fire. 

"Did you average 1.4 points as a senior in high school?" Rose admonished. "[Did] you play junior varsity as a junior?"

Or how about Wednesday morning, as the issue of Rose's comments was addressed again, usurping Skip's usual fare of LeBron-bashing and Tebow-fawning and must-yell-louder-and-look-angrier-than-everyone, for a rare moment of introspection (and soft-spoken, yet terse blaming of Twitter's 140-character limit). 

"[I] only talk about this because now my integrity and credibility have been questioned ..." Bayless said.  

Yeah, "now" it's been questioned. Not after the wanton verbal drive-bys on ESPN. Not after the Aikman allegation. Now? But we digress. Flat-out attacking Bayless over this is a tad too easy, and a bit tired. It's been done. By everybody.  

No, what this space is for is to remind folks of two important rules; rules to avoid situations like this; rules that apply to far more in life that just sports and sports commentary. One's obvious, and something your mom should have taught you. The other is a life lesson even people at the highest level of their profession (Bayless) apparently don't heed. 

1) Don't be such a monumental jerk that people will use every and any excuse to bury you. (Obvious)

2) Nobody's appreciates what you did in high school.

Nobody, at all. Did Al Bundy and Hank Hill teach you all nothing? As you get older in life, those moments between ninth and 12th grades become more and more and more irrelevant. Sure, there are times that may be fun to reminisce with among your old friends during Thanksgiving or a wedding or whatever. But recite them to anybody else, and you just come across looking lame. 

Don't care where you partied. Don't care about your prom date. Don't care about "this time everyone cut class ..." And surely, most of all, especially if you work in sports media and your job is to cover and commentate on professional sports on ESPN, don't care about what you did sports-wise. 

Where Bayless truly messed up was tweeting about his high school career in the first place. The second he likened his time in high school (see below) to an NBA player, it was over. The second anybody—an accountant in San Francisco; electrician in Atlanta; pilot in Pittsburgh; anybody—references their high school playing career to a pro athletes, it's over. 

There are no true parallels besides the name of the sport and that both of you were sweating during practice. Trying to compare your experience with that of a pro athlete's is like trying to use time on a student council to leverage an argument with a senator. Different levels, does not apply.

One of the go-to (and tired) arguments for pro athletes who disagree with journalists/commentators is that "you never played." Retort  with "I was on varsity ..." and I'll bet my tax return you'll get laughed out of the press room. At this level, where the athletes are built like Michelangelo statues and have been god-like athletically since they were toddlers, a former prep athlete is on the same plane as me, a kid who never wore a letterman jacket. 

When someone like Bayless references his, someone as unlikable as Bayless (see No. 1), The Internet is going to look it up and find out. And then the truth comes out. The truth that Bayless was essentially a bench-warmer (roster-changes, apparently).

Schadenfreude. And completely avoidable. Keep those Friday Night Lights to yourself.