Lincicome: When it comes to general tastelessness, look no further than Josh Donaldson

My apologies to Josh Donaldson for not knowing him from a hat rack until the recent clash with the White Sox' Tim Anderson thrust him into the all-purpose assortment of idiots and numskulls.

Thus, in my capacity as fact checker and conclusion jumper, I have learned more than needed about this Yankee knuckle dragger who dared to insult the most interesting athlete in Chicago.

And not just Anderson, the happiest Sox shortstop since Ozzie Guillen, but for offending the legacy and honor of Jackie Robinson, man, myth and pioneer, all with one ugly taunt.

Donaldson has apologized to Anderson in a formal statement, as well as to Robinson's widow and to the entire Robinson clan "for any distress this incident may have caused."

Assuming Donaldson's idiocy has troubled anyone other than the poor schlub who had to compose his artificial apology is an insult itself. Donaldson just ain't that important.

Most of the details of the event are now common fodder, the sides chosen. I am, of course, on Anderson's side, preferring his brand of hometown hooha to that of Donaldson, who is not of Chicago though originally drafted by the Cubs.

The line is not always clear when it comes to accepting bad behavior, but it usually depends on which uniform shirt the jerk is wearing. Chicago has had its share of bad actors, thinking foremost of Dennis Rodman who was not only tolerated but celebrated for the same crassness that made him hated when he was a Piston.

I can forgive Anderson for flipping off Cleveland fans (and getting the same one-game punishment as did Donaldson for invoking America's greatest shame) because Anderson is joy and gusto while the other guy is malice and spite.

"I have to apologize for my actions," Anderson said then. "There are a lot of people who really look up to me. I take full accountability for what I did."

This seems appropriately generic and will come in handy for the next time Anderson gets out of his lane. He might, in fact, send a copy to Donaldson, described at one of his six major league stops as "the most hated player on the field." This is not the last time we shall hear of the misconduct of either player.

I have always believed that the sports apology, unlike wedding dresses and coffins, should not have limited use, but should, like duct tape and the twist tie, be adaptable.

The apology from Donaldson began this week: "First and foremost ..." Anything that follows is certain to be as insincere as a barista's thank you.

This will not be the last time an athlete feels the need to send his regrets. Most jocks I know are creatures of great variety, capable of offending complete strangers just by sharing an elevator.

I think, in fact, that athletes might want to have pre-issued apologies for future indiscretions.

Here is one for general misconduct, and not just for Aaron Rodgers: "To the Chicago fans and my teammates, I want to publicly apologize for my actions. I was wrong. I deserve to be punished. I realize what I did was offensive and improper, though you had it coming. I wrote this myself but I did not do all the typing."

Here's another for general weirdness, prepared without the help of Mike Tyson, who recently punched a fellow airline passenger. "To the rest of the world, I want to say I am sorry that there is not room for you in here with me. I would like to look you in the face and tell you that. And I would like you to look me in the face and tell me, you can't do what you do, but I have to be quiet now."

Here is one for general tastelessness, handy for almost any modern jock. "To the monotonously barbered and buffed and unpierced, please excuse my appearance. It is not meant to slight your lack of imagination nor your inadequate sense of adventure. I realize that not everyone has my ability to accessorize, and I do not mean to imply that a day without a new tattoo is like a day without fresh air, but it is."

To borrow from Donaldson's apology, meaning no disrespect.