This helping of crow was easy to eat

I received an email recently from a reader accusing me of being insensitive.

My reaction was predictable. I was defensive, outraged and poised over the keyboard to defend myself.

There was just one problem: He was right.

I hate when that happens.

I wrote something stupid, without noticing it, and a reader called me on it. I throw myself on the mercy of the court (of public opinion).

It began with a column I wrote for the sports section that included a series of lists, including the 10 players, coaches and teams we love to hate. No. 1 on the list was Rex Ryan, the obnoxious coach of the New York Jets.

"Loud, fat, profane, cocky – what's to like?" I wrote.

Ugh.

See anything wrong with that sentence? Apparently, I didn't either. Didn't even occur to me though I read and reread the column several times.

The morning the column was published I received an email from a reader named Lonnie Eliason, who wrote, "Whoa, whoa, whoa … fat? Lumped in there with 'loud, profane, cocky' 'what's to like?' Hey, I'm fat, and I think lumping us in there with things to hate is a little nasty. Your thoughts?"

Busted. Guilty as charged. I should be sentenced to a year of covering the state Legislature.

Ryan's fatness is so much a part of his in-your-face persona that I included it in the list of adjectives without thinking about the broader (pardon the pun) implications.

Let me be clear and state the obvious: Being fat is not the same as being loud, cocky and profane. I am of course engaging in gross understatement, but I feel better acknowledging it.

I replied to Lonnie's email and apologized; I conceded his point — game, set and match. He could have gone for the throat in his next email; he could have noted that no one would write, "Loud, skinny, profane, cocky — what's to like;" he could have bored in like a lawyer in front of a jury and railed on a world that mistreats and abuses the overweight and the unfairness of it all.

Instead, he was kind enough to cut me slack; he was generous to the point of compliments.

"No problem," he wrote back. "I know if you knew me, even though fat, you would like me. Keep up the good work. I enjoy your columns."