Please congratulate me. I’ve just invented a new term, “rape-like sex”. Its operational definition is “sex sort of like rape, but not indictable”. A long time ago we heard about Kobe Bryant and a young lady at an Aspen rehab resort. Last year we heard about Ben Rothlisberger and a young woman in a Tahoe hotel suite. Then we heard about Ben Rothlisberger and a young woman in a tavern bathroom in Georgia. Earlier this month we heard about Lawrence Taylor’s nocturnal event in a Sullivan County motel. Now we learn about New York Mets ace Johan Santana and a “fan” rolling in the brush near a Ft. Meyers golf course.
At least the Sullivan County authorities got it right and were able to bring an indictment against Taylor this week. Maybe all those “Law and Order” geniuses in Nevada, Georgia and Florida need to schedule a field trip to upstate New York and take notes?
There’s something radically wrong with society when high-profile professional athletes keep having questionable sex with women and local authorities can’t collect enough evidence to bring charges against slobbish behavior. First we hear Santana raped a woman in a secluded area near the golf course on the gated community both reside. Then we hear the sex was consensual and she initiated things. So instead of rape, Santana, supposedly the family man, is guilty of adultery not to mention giving “fan experience” and “grass stains” entirely new meaning.
According to Santana, the woman was a fan and sought an autograph. Was this Santana’s idea of bringing out his Sharpie?! I’d hate to think how he’d respond to a photo request...
Let’s think about this for a moment. First, the media keep referring to this incident as a “situation that occurred this past winter.” I’m sorry, but according to my calendar, late-October is not wintertime, and certainly not in south Florida. Second, the 2009 World Series hadn’t even ended yet, so it was technically still the MLB season. Third, didn’t Santana undergo season-ending elbow surgery in early September? Sounds to me like Santana had a rapid and excellent recovery during the 6-8 weeks in between surgery and meeting his adoring public.
Of course, what troubles me most is why it took from October to December before the Ft. Myers Police Department finally got around to investigate things.
Santana has struggled at times this season with his velocity and control. He’s yet to even win half a dozen games so far. Hisanori Takahashi is 6-3. R.A. Dickey is 6-0. Santana’s now 5-5. What’s wrong with this picture? Can he turn it around after the All-Star break? Sure he can; he’s been known as a second-half pitcher for years. But he’s coming off the elbow surgery, which I think is still affecting his mechanics and comfort level, and now he has this “rape-like sex” story hanging over his head. He came to spring training with the story likely on his mind, came north with the team in April with it on his mind, and has pitched three months with it on his mind. Regardless of when or how the story broke, if Santana hasn’t had this story weigh on his mind with each game he pitched, we’re all kidding ourselves.
This is the fourth straight start that he’s given up 4 or more earned runs despite pitching at least six innings each time. For the month of June (5 starts, 26.2 innings) Santana’s pitching line is 1-2, 4.05 ERA, 28 hits (2 home runs), 12 walks, and 8 strikeouts. One of those home runs was the third grand slam he’s served up this season, to Mark Teixeira of the Yankees (one of two first-inning grand slams). Twice he put the Mets in a hole they couldn’t climb from after the first inning.
Today was more of the same. Four runs in the first inning of a 6-0 loss to the Twins. How bad was Johan’s first inning? Prince Harry had better stuff tossing out the ceremonial first pitch!
So, while we point fingers at Oliver Perez as the poster child for head cases, we now have to wonder if Perez really is the only Mets lefthander in need of a sports psychologist. Maybe Santana’s performance this past month served as a signal that the story on his off-season activity was slowly boiling to the surface of public disclosure.
Isn’t it sad to think you have to look to the Bronx and the way Javy Vasquez and A.J. Burnett are pitching lately to feel good about Santana’s June on the mound?
As bad as Santana was, Twins righty Carl Pavano was excellent. Sporting his best Rollie Fingers look (or perhaps Frank Zappa), Pavano demonstrated he’s finally maturing as a pitcher since his days with the Marlins and Yankees. He seems healthy, his head is screwed on straight, and his pitching repertoire seemed positively evolved as he pitched his second straight complete game, third of the season (winning his third straight start), having beaten the Phillies and Roy Halladay last Sunday. At any rate, Pavano is clearly thriving with the Twins and under manager Ron Gardenhire, which is a good story for baseball. I’ve always tried to give Pavano the benefit of the doubt, that his four-year stint in the Bronx was more aberration than anything else.
Another good story for baseball was Arizona Diamondback right-hander Edwin Jackson’s no-hitter at Tropicana Field Friday night, beating his former team, the Tampa Bay Rays, 1-0. In case you’re not counting, folks, this is the fourth no-no so far this season, putting us well on pace to match or exceed the seven no-hitters pitched in both 1990 and 1991. At the least, Jackson’s no-hitter was clearly the oddest one of the season as well as in recent memory. 149 pitches (67 after 3 innings) — 79 strikes, 70 balls. 6 strikeouts, but 8 walks (7 in the first 3 innings), 1 hit batsman, and 1 wild pitch. Oh, and the Diamondbacks even committed an error for good measure.
You have to go back to June 2, 1990 and Randy Johnson’s no-hitter when Seattle beat Detroit 2-0 to see such a high pitch count (Johnson threw 138 that game). From the sixth inning on, the Diamondbacks had the bullpen warming up, but manager A.J. Hinch stuck with Jackson, who was getting stronger and finding the plate better as the game kept going. If Hinch could keep faith in a wild Jackson in a 1-0 game on the road, it really makes you wonder why Mets manager Jerry Manuel felt compelled to bring in Francisco Rodriguez this past Wednesday night to pitch the ninth inning of a 5-0 game when R. A. Dickey was cruising through eight innings yet to reach 90 pitches. Perhaps the Jackson no-hitter will encourage managers to stick with their starters longer and aim for more complete games rather than overworking a bullpen early and often during the regular season.
Question — Was Jackson’s no-no the wildest pitching effort of all time? No, in fact, it wasn’t even the second wildest, although rumor has Jackson’s pitching line nearly identical to the pitching line the late Doc Ellis had on June 12, 1970 when he no-hit the San Diego Padres, 2-0, allegedly while high on LSD (Ellis walked 8, struck out 6, and hit a batter). As I wrote last month, on August 19, 1965 at Wrigley Field against the Chicago Cubs, Cincinnati’s Jim Maloney pitched the first of two career no-hitters, winning 1-0. It was a 10-inning affair, where Maloney walked 10 batters, struck out 12, and threw a total of 187 pitches that day. Maloney’s 10 walks are the most ever in a complete-game no-hitter. On May 12, 2001, A.J. Burnett, then of the Florida Marlins, no-hit San Diego 3-0, walking nine and striking out seven in the process. On September 28, 1974, Nolan Ryan pitched his third career no-no as the Angels defeated the Twins in Anaheim, 4-0. Ryan walked eight while striking out 15 Twins.
Question — What is it about the Rays and being no-hit? Believe it or not, this is the third time in less than 162 games the Rays have been no-hit. Mark Buehrle pitched a perfect game for the White Sox against the Rays July 23, 2009, winning 5-0. Oakland’s Dallas Braden pitched his perfecto on Mother’s Day, May 9th, beating the Rays 4-0. Now we have Jackson’s no-no. Has any team been no-hit three times in a single season? No, but with 88 games left to play, nothing’s impossible for the Rays.
If you’re wondering if being no-hit is a bad omen towards winning the world series, keep in mind the Oakland A’s were no-hit by Nolan Ryan in 1990 and still won the AL pennant (they lost the world series to Cincinnati), and were no-hit during both the 1973 (by Texas’ Jim Bibby) and 1974 (by Cleveland’s Dick Bosman) seasons while they were winning their second and third consecutive world series championships. Cincinnati’s Tom Browning pitched a perfecto over the Dodgers in 1988, yet the Dodgers won the world series, defeating Oakland in five games. The same happened to the Dodgers during the strike-shortened 1981 season. Nolan Ryan no-hit them while pitching for Houston, but the Dodgers won the world series in six games over the Yankees.
Question — Is Jackson the first to pitch a no-hitter against a former team? No, he’s the fourth in the past 60 years. Allie Reynolds’ 1951 no-hitter against Cleveland pitching for the Yankees and Terry Mulholland’s 1990 no-hitter against San Francisco pitching for the Phillies are the two most notable examples.
Has Carlos Zambrano pitched his last game for the Chicago Cubs? One has to wonder when, as opposed to if, the Cubs will put Zambrano on the trading block after his first inning meltdown against the White Sox. We all know Zambrano is a hot head, but one really has to wonder if he’s finally reached the point of no return after blowing up in the dugout after giving up four runs on three very well-hit balls. I don’t know what it is about the Cubs and players who can’t cope, but when the Cubs have to suspend Milton Bradley last year and Zambrano this year, one really needs to wonder if the north side of Chicago brings out the worst in some players. But considering the Cubs had to play a day game in Chicago after a 13-inning loss in Seattle on Thursday, you kinda knew everyone’s nerves were frayed going into the weekend series at Cellular Field.
Is it a mirage or is Ozzie Guillen more entertaining when the White Sox are winning? Ozzie sure seemed to be in good spirits and witty during his post-game news conference when discussing the Zambrano meltdown. Of course, the White Sox are now riding an 11-game winning streak and are now in a tight three-team race in the AL Central, so that should keep a smile on Ozzie’s face for a while, and when Ozzie’s smiling, general manager Kenny Williams tolerates him a tad more and doesn’t need to reach for the Maalox as often.
Isn’t it neat we’re seeing entertaining races in all six divisions so far this season? Before the July 4th weekend I’ll discuss each divisional race more.
Do you think the guys at ELIAS are working overtime every day of this baseball season? It seems not one day goes by without us having to hear about a new “did you know?” statistic the way this season’s going. For those much younger than me, I hope this wakes you up to what a great game baseball is and what a storied history it has, long before anyone ever heard of steroids.
How’s that “home” series working out for the Toronto Blue Jays this weekend in Philadelphia? Because of the G-20 Summit and the threat of protests in Toronto, MLB needed to move the Phillies-Jays series to Citizens Bank Park. Toronto is the home team and the teams play with DH rules, and MLB is using the attendance figures for the Jays’ home tally, but it’s still playing in the Phillies’ den and in front of their fans. Oh, and Friday night’s opener pitted the Jays against their former ace, Roy Halladay. Halladay pitched seven shutout innings as the Phillies won 9-0. Even though the Jays won Saturday night, 5-1, this hardly seems like a fair break for Toronto in the grand scheme of things.
You know, given how the Jays are hurting for better attendance while they hang on for dear life in the AL East race, maybe having the series at Rogers Centre would’ve been better. Hey, why not reach out to the G-20 protesters and offer discount tickets to watch the Jays and Phillies when they need a break from yelling about imperialism? I know if I was an angry anarchist I’d enjoy getting off my feet for 2-3 hours at a ballgame.
Congrats to Atlanta’s Billy Wagner for saving his 400th career game Friday night as the Braves beat Detroit 3-1. Who would’ve thought 400 saves was possible for Wagner when his arm gave out while pitching for the Mets in 2008? Actually, this entire Braves team is a pleasant surprise so far this season, and as much as I dislike the Braves, being a Mets fan, I do think it’s good for baseball for Bobby Cox to go out on a high notes after all these years of managerial success.
The Yankees are visiting the Dodgers this weekend at Chez Ravine. Any chance A-Rod stops pouting and walks over to Joe Torre and gives him a hug? Just wondering about His Fraudness.
Is anyone overly surprised John Isner lost his second-round match at Wimbledon in straight sets? He just survived the longest match in history on the strength of guts and 112 aces. 24 hours later he’s out, losing in the quickest match of the fortnight so far, failing to serve one ace in the process. It was inevitable.
Has anyone noticed Ron Artest is more entertaining than ever since the Lakers won the NBA championship? I don’t know what his psychiatrist did for him, but it seems like crazy is en vogue.
Staying in southern California, anyone betting on the Trojans winning their appeal against NCAA sanctions? The sanctions are too tough? Puleeze! The only issue I have with the sanction is that they fail to go after former head coaches Pete Carroll (football) and Tim Floyd (men’s basketball), and Reggie Bush and O.J. Mayo weren’t tarred and feathered for putting their programs in the binds they’re now in.
Let’s head east to Mississippi and check in on Brett Favre. He’s recovering nicely from ankle surgery, thank you, and is even saying he’d love a chance to get revenge against the New Orleans Saints in the Vikings’ season opener. But as we all know, ol’ Brett never commits to definitely returning to play until at least the second week of the pre-season, so let’s just hope his ankle continues to mend and play it by ear.
Speaking of the Vikings, we now know what’s slower than Kevin and Pat Williams’ 40-yard dash times. It’s the Minnesota judicial system. It’s possible both defensive linemen will play their third consecutive seasons before their suspensions for testing positive for a banned diuretic can be enforced. By the way, you don’t think there’s a slight conflict of interest at play, considering one of Minnesota’s Supreme Court Justices happens to be Hall of Fame defensive lineman Alan Page? Just wondering how the former Purple People Eater is looking at the case pending on these two Everything Eaters.
Moving north to Cleveland, word now is that LeBron James will not meet with any potential new teams in their cities when the free agency period begins July 1. Apparently teams will all have to meet with him at his Akron home. First up in the cattle call, the Knicks and Nets. Gee, I guess Cavs owner Dan Gilbert will have to prepare for a similar summit in order to negotiate with his star? Maybe James will give Gilbert a break and have him pitch his offer against the Clippers’ reps?
Speaking of strange and the NBA, could someone explain to me how this whole Kevin Pritchard dismissal as GM of the Portland Trailblazers came about? To fire your GM just prior to the NBA draft is one thing, but to ask him to stick around during the draft seems more than odd.
Speaking of the NBA draft, how about tipping our hats to University of Kentucky coach John Calipari. Why? Five of his former players were drafted in the first round, the most ever for one school. Why? Because Coach Cal’s a mercenary with a revolving door program of mercenary players who continue to show what a complete farce the “one and done” rule is.
And speaking of GMs, I think it’s a shame Rod Thorn’s stepping down from his post with the Nets. Rumors swirl that new coach Avery Johnson pined for a GM title, or that the new owner brought in KGB operatives to keep a close eye on Thorn. Perhaps Thorn, at 69, after the most difficult year of his life overseeing a 12-70 disaster and losing both parents, is simply tired and wants a break. But I think Thorn deserves to be around for a Nets revival, assuming it happens. Thorn revived the Nets a decade ago as they went from joke to two-time eastern conference champs. The least the Nets could’ve done was provide him the same opportunity again.
Did you hear about the shooting in Virginia involving one of Michael Vick’s co-defendants? Apparently Vick was nowhere near the incident, and made clear that professional athletes really need to be careful who they associate with if they want to stay out of trouble. If Vick learned just this lesson after his prison term for financing and running a dog fighting operation, this is a big step forward and wise lesson to share with all other professional athletes.
Let’s keep our fingers crossed for New York Giants’ third-round pick, defensive back Chad Jones out of LSU. Jones was involved in a gruesome one-car crash in New Orleans early Friday morning and suffered major injury to his leg. The last I heard he’s obviously gone for the 2010 season and it’s still unclear whether his recovery will be full. Forget about his football career. I’m just talking about his ability to use his leg normally and lead a normal healthy life without chronic complications.
I know the USA lost its match to Ghana. As disappointing as that was for many Americans and soccer fans, the team gave its best effort and should be commended. As for folks who only cared about the World Cup with the USA playing, take the time now to enjoy and admire the remaining teams.
Did you hear North Korea lost all three World Cup matches by a combined 12-1 score? Did you also hear that North Korean president Kim Jung Il is threatening retaliation for this imperialistic attack? Just checking to see if you’re reading more than the sports pages of your newspaper...
Finally, I’d like to settle the argument that took place on ESPN’s NFL Live this weekend. Former defensive lineman and now commentator Marcellus Wiley debated in studio with Oakland Raiders’ $15M cornerback Nnamdi Asomugha. The debate? Which is more important for a defense, a shutdown corner or a pass rushing defensive end? Obviously, Asomugha chose the former while Wiley chose the latter, quoting the adage the quarterback can’t throw while on his back.
I’ve always been of the philosophy that you need BOTH and that one without the other is not necessarily a good thing for a defensive unit, especially one with championship aspirations. Case in point, the New York Jets. The Jets have the best shut-down corner in Darrelle Revis but were limited a bit by a less-than-dominant pass rush. As a result, the lack of pass rush and a defensive backfield lacking an equal to Revis caught up to the Jets during the AFC Championship game loss to the Colts.
However, I’m not necessarily convinced a defense can live and die with its pass rush. Case in point, the 1985 Chicago Bears. Yes, they won the super bowl and dominated the NFL with an 18-1 record. Yes, their defense is arguably the best and most-dominant of all time. They registered 72 sacks during the regular season, an average of 4.5 sacks per game. But let’s take a closer look at these numbers...
The average number of offensive plays during a regular season game is approximately 70 per team. Of those 70 plays, approximately 40 are pass plays, and of those 40 pass plays, quarterbacks on average complete 25. If a team with a pass rush as dominant as the ‘85 Bears had exists today, then maybe opposing quarterbacks manage to throw only 30-35 passes and complete 20-25. My point is that for the number of times a defense sacks or hits the quarterback while throwing, the ball still gets past the line of scrimmage at least a couple of dozen times and is caught by receivers 60-65 percent of the time. This means that even the greatest pass rush of all time can’t prevent on average 20 successful passing plays per game, meaning that a defense needs more than just an awesome pass rush, although it certainly can’t hurt.
Consider the one game the ‘85 Bears lost, a week 13, 38-24 to the Dolphins on a Monday night in Miami. The Bears blitzed often. Dan Marino beat it at will with 270 yards passing and 3 touchdowns. The Dolphins ran 54 plays from scrimmage that night, 30 passing. Marino was sacked 3 times and still threw 27 passes, completing 14. Did the Bears’ 46 defense rough him up? Sure, but not enough to do enough damage to Miami’s passing attack. In fact, that game was the wake-up call to the Bears’ coaching brain-trust of Mike Ditka and Buddy Ryan that the defensive backfield was indeed vulnerable against the best quarterbacks no matter how ferocious their pass rush.
So, no matter how much heat you bring, if your defensive unit isn’t complete with greatness at multiple positions, you can still get burnt. Therefore the argument is moot. Great pass rushers and great defensive backfields complement each other and need each other. You really can’t get by with one or the other, at least not for long.
As we head into July and a holiday weekend, always remember to be careful when playing with fire, even in sports.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Life on Earth and its stupidity -- Life Thoughts for June 24, 2010
It’s been a little while since my last column. I’ve had a few minor setbacks above the neck lately, but after my semi-annual brain MRI and new Veralux (progressive) bifocals I’m happy to say –
1. My brain’s still allegedly intact
2. I can see the computer screen a lot better
Wow, so that’s what my screen looks like!
So, I no longer have any excuses for delaying a new column. Brace yourselves, as I have a whole bunch of little topics to discuss…
Do you find stupid things as irritating and fascinating as I do? Since my last column I have witnessed good ol' American stupidity at work, and this isn’t even counting BP CEO Tony Heyward or Lady Gaga. Last week I got my eyes checked for the first time since last summer. I’ve been having headaches and blurry vision since I was in Potsdam earlier this month, and lately the left side of my face hasn’t exactly felt or functioned like the right side of my face. Needing a magnifying glass to read small print when you already have bifocals is usually a good sign you need stronger lenses, and sure enough I needed MUCH stronger lenses for distance and near vision (hey, at least my lousy vision is balanced).
So, I went to LensCrafters last Monday to get my eyes checked and buy new lenses for my frames. Pretty straightforward, considering it takes 7-10 days for my prescription lenses to be made and they cost anywhere between $500 and $650, depending on the lens lab. Having to get new lenses every 10-12 months is getting to be a real bummer not to mention a strong hit to my wallet. Fortunately I was able to use my AAA membership and get a 15% discount on my eye exam and lenses. I could’ve used my health insurance, but I didn’t know I needed a referral from my INTERNIST (i.e., Primary Care Physician). I need a REFERRAL from my INTERNIST to see an optometrist? Yes, in the world of Oxford Health, an optometrist is a specialist and you need a referral to see any specialist.
Okay, I can understand needing a referral to see a neurosurgeon, but an optometrist? How am I supposed to discuss this with my internist? What’s he supposed to say? Gee, Dr. Pushkin, your blood pressure and cholesterol are perfect but I suspect you may be blind as a bat. It’s not often my middle-aged patients walk directly into the door of the exam room.
Maybe I’m being a tad silly, but I would think my neurologist would be a better judge of my vision, considering he actually examines my senses.
Anyway, so while my new bifocal lenses were on order, I tried toughing it out with my old glasses, but it was really getting ridiculous. I was scheduled to see my neurologist on Wednesday, so I told him what was going on. The first thing he did was have me to take off my glasses and try and follow the pen light he was shining. My first response was “what light? Oh, THAT light!” Next he tells me to put my glasses back on and try it again, and I said, “Mario! Good to see you! Where did you disappear to?” Obviously bemused, but NOT amused, he then did some prick testing on my face with a toothpick. Do you feel that any differently on this side? “Feel what?” Okay, let’s try this again. “Well, um, I can’t really tell.”
Okay, stick out your tongue and say ‘ah’. Hey, why does your mouth do that? “Do what?” One side opens wide and the other doesn’t. “Do I look like a neurologist? That’s why I come to you.”
Okay, put your arms out, hands open, palms up, close your eyes, and touch your nose with each index finger. First, that’s way too much information to give a guy who may have a scrambled brain. My left hand flunked. I almost poked my right eye out, but my right hand found my right nostril, so I was now batting .500. Okay, put your hands out and hold them there for me to prick them… where did your left arm go? Hmmm… how do you feel about another brain MRI?
Oh, I dunno… how do you feel about colonoscopies and prostate exams? Just fill in the blank with “brain MRI”.
The suspicion was a mini-stroke, perhaps something down in my cervical spinal cord as opposed to my actual brain. Okay, it seems like I’m getting one of these every six months, so you just suck it up and go for the test, which I had this past Friday. In the meantime, I’m still having headaches and blurry vision, and still several days away from having new bifocals. So, on Thursday, I decided to stop by Cohen’s Vision Center while en route to grocery shopping. Why? I had a coupon for two sets of cheap lenses in conjunction with my AAA membership. It only takes one hour. I had two older frames, one being for reading glasses, so I had Cohen’s make two new sets of cheap backup glasses – one for distance vision and one for reading. This way I could manage with separate glasses while I drive or read the newspaper, but obviously not both at the same time. Consider this a stopgap measure, and it helped to a degree. Why didn’t I have LensCrafters do it for me three days earlier? I could get a better discount from Cohen’s. I may be semi-blind, but I ain’t stupid.
On my way out of the mall, I was walking towards one of the handicapped exit doors. A lady was in front of me, pushed the door and held it open so I could pass through after her. Before I could even thank her, some guy in a suit with briefcase in hand, shoves me from behind and walks past me through the doorway. The lady was pissed. I was stunned, and this putz thanks us both for holding the door for him. We asked this bozo what his “deal” was, and he looked at me and said, "you were in my way and were too slow".
Too slow? Excuse me? I walk with a cane on a GOOD day. I’ve earned the right to walk slow. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, that’s my legal right under the Americans with Disabilities Act, especially since I was passing through a handicapped door and would’ve pushed the automated button if the lady (not disabled, by the way) hadn’t pushed the door on her own.
So, while the lady was telling this jerk what a jerk he was, and he was telling us he had better things to do and was late for an appointment, I leaned against a pillar with my left hand and casually dragged my cane tip in the dirt of the neighboring flower bed. Then with my right hand, I softly lifted my cane in an upswing to subtly hit his crotch with the cane tip. When he reacted with what the hell are you doing? I replied with a smirk, “Sorry. Involuntary cripple movement. Geez, you have a dirt smudge on your suit pants. Is that gonna be trouble for your next appointment?” Consider that the final word of the encounter as I wobbled to my car, satisfied and ready to go home.
By the way, if you met a needle-nosed putz with a dirt smudge on the front of his pants on Thursday, that was MY handiwork. You’re welcome.
Two great things about being neurologically impaired –
1) Memory lapses and occasional inappropriate behavior.
2) Memory lapses and occasional inappropriate behavior.
Did I mention I needed a brain MRI?
Oh yeah, I survived Friday’s brain MRI and was looking forward to a restful weekend. For some reason I decided to be adventurous with cooking Sunday’s dinner. I was in the mood for salmon and stir-fried veggies (yellow squash, zucchini, onions, baby portabella mushrooms), but I wanted to do something different than baking and broiling the salmon in my toaster oven. Hey, I thought, why not pan-sear the salmon like they do in restaurants? Yeah, sure, let’s try it… pan-blackened salmon with spices.
If you’ve ever cooked a fish like salmon, you know it’s a tad fatty (but a good fat, by the way, Omega-3). I pretty much had everything under control for most of this new cooking challenge, especially since my pan was covered. But when I got to the very end of searing, the spices got smoky and lo and behold, I set off my smoke detector. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Long story short, I covered back up the salmon, turned off the stove burner, and opened a window to let any smoke escape without sending it into my building’s hallway and creating a need for the East Rutherford Fire Department.
In the middle of all this, the desk clerk where I live calls my place because the smoke detector is wired to the front desk. Given my declining mobility and I was trying to finish cooking the fish without ruining it, I almost fell down and cracked my head trying to get to the phone, which was nowhere in or near my kitchen (isn't it rather odd I pay $950/month for rent on a place that has three phone jacks, but only one works?). But after 8-9 rings I finally grab the phone to listen to him ask if all was okay. I told him I overcooked my fish but had things under control.
This isn’t the rest of the story. After I ate my dinner (which was absolutely delicious, by the way) and cleaned up the kitchen, I walked down the hall (yes, my place is approximately 150 feet down the hall from the front desk) and stopped by the front desk to chat with the clerk after I put my trash in the trash room. I explained to the clerk, a young man in his early 20s, what happened with my cooking adventure, but advised him for any future incident he should walk down the hall and knock on my door to check if I’m okay as opposed to calling on the phone. His response was that he had to call my room because of protocol in order to check for my safety. I told him I understood that, but given my being disabled and my proximity to the front desk it would make more sense to physically walk down the hall and knock on the door. His response – hey, I did my job, you answered the phone, and everything’s okay. Never mind that it took 8-9 rings before I could answer the phone. Never mind that this was the first time my smoke detector ever went off, and never mind the fact that I’ve already fallen multiple times in the past 8 months living here. He picked up the phone, as the protocol requires, so he did his job, and that’s all he needed to do. And this was all for MY safety.
I told him if he was really worried about my safety he would’ve walked 150 feet down the hall rather than sit behind the desk reading a magazine and using the phone. I also told him he needs to think about which units are involved when a smoke detector goes off and who the resident is, considering my building has more than a few disabled residents. There’s doing your job and doing the job, and there’s a fundamental distinction, especially when safety and potential lawsuits are involved. Sometimes the help you think you’re providing potentially makes matters worse.
His response, to a disabled person more than twice his age? Don’t you f___king disrespect me again! I’m always nice to your ass so you don’t f___king disrespect me!
Well, I don’t know about you folks, but when some kid starts throwing F-Bombs at me while I’m trying to advise him how to be more helpful to people whose rent helps provide his paycheck, I tap into my Brooklyn roots and give it back to him as he dished it out. Then I placed a call to our manager and explained that this young man needs a mini-lecture on how to take advice and respond to it. End of story, the kid had to apologize and got a lesson from his bosses on how to think before he does something or says anything. I’m sure this is the kind of valuable teaching moment even someone like General Stanley McChrystal could use.
Is anyone surprised the general’s resignation was eagerly accepted by President Obama? Hey, if Truman could fire MacArthur during the Korean war, why should McChrystal be untouchable? Then again, if I were McChrystal I’d be wondering why Rolling Stone wants to interview me in the first place and whether shooting off my big mouth is necessarily the smartest idea. Come to think of it, if I was McChrystal I’d be wishing Sarah Palin was in the White House, given she only skims the print media.
But McChrystal and my weekend desk clerk really get to the heart of deeper issues plaguing our society. One issue is the inability to recognize there’s a time and place for everything, including when to say certain things and not to say certain things. You don’t think Helen Thomas is the only guilty offender do you? When you’re the lead general in our war efforts in Afghanistan, whether you agree with your orders or not, it’s really not wise to tell Rolling Stone dirt on the president, vice-president, and other members of the current administration… unless this is your master plan for an early discharge. Hey, for all we know, General McChrystal may’ve wanted to get his life back – oops that’s Tony Heyward. Sorry, only one life back per month. Take a number, General, and wait your turn.
The second issue, which really applies to my weekend desk clerk, is that people really don’t seem to give a damn about doing the best job they can while they have one. In a nation with essentially double-digit unemployment, it boggles my mind how many people simply go through the motions in their jobs – and expect to be rewarded for a job done with mediocrity. Remember those AVIS rental car commercials advertising We try harder? Boy, those commercials seem light-years ago, sort of like those Hertz commercials with O.J. running through airports instead of rolling along I-5 in that Ford Bronco.
It seems now the motto for so many should be Well, we tried something, or A half-assed job is better than nothing. Is it just me or are we finally starting to see the full manifestation of the Millennial Generation? You know, people born after 1980 who finally entered colleges and the workforce at the start of the 21st century? This is supposed to be the savvy generation, the technologically sophisticated generation, the Twitter and Facebook generation. And we’re seeing more and more softness, less mental toughness, and people who fall to pieces in the face of feedback without at least a participation ribbon (think back to Ben Stiller’s character in Meet the Parents and Meet the Fockers).
This is hardly the first or last time I’ll ponder this phenomenon. In fact, this past Friday I encountered similar half-hearted work ethic en route to my brain MRI. I stopped by my bank, Capital One, to make a transaction requiring me dealing in person with a teller. I walked into the branch and noticed three people ahead of me, and only one teller at the windows. So I stood. And stood. And stood some more. Approximately 10 minutes later, the person in front of me noticed me standing propped with my cane and said, “this is crazy… I bet standing here isn’t helping you". No, it certainly wasn’t.
Then the branch manager, who had been sitting at her desk since I walked in, got up and walked into a side room where you could see through the doorway that employees were sitting and having a pizza party. A couple of minutes later, one girl arrives at a teller window and asks for the next customer. Now you’d possibly think the person standing in front of me would offer me his turn given his concern for my lengthy time standing. Nope. He immediately smiled at me and said “Thank G-d” and made his beeline for the teller.
So I stood for another 10 minutes waiting for an available teller. Why didn’t I simply leave? I needed to complete this transaction before the weekend. Anyway, after 20-plus minutes of standing I finally got to the teller window to carry out my mission, which took approximately five minutes.
On my way from the teller window I decided to stop by the manager’s desk and introduce myself. I asked her if it ever occurred to her to come ask me if I needed any assistance, considering I’m disabled. Her response?
Oh, but I did take care of your situation. I went in back to get one of the spare girls to work the teller window.
But you didn’t notice I still stood in line for over 20 minutes?
Yeah, but I doubled the number of girls at the windows. You see, I usually only have three tellers on Friday, and two are out to lunch right now, so I got one of the spare girls to help out.
(Wait a minute… “spare girls”? Is this a bank branch or a brothel?)
I see. What’s wrong with you?
Excuse me?
You’re the manager, right?
Yeah.
Did it ever occur to you that YOU could’ve worked a window too so people don’t have to stand 20 minutes waiting for service?
Oh I can’t do that?
Why not?
I’m the manager. I don’t do windows.
You’re the manager, and you don’t do windows.
No sir.
Are doing windows beneath your position as manager?
The tellers do the windows, or we use spare girls.
So you’re the manager and not a spare girl anymore? I think I see where you’re coming from. So if I come back to your branch with a disability rights attorney you’ll feel comfortable providing him the same explanation?
I’m the manager, sir. Here’s my desk. I don’t do the windows.
Good luck to you. Have a nice day.
Maybe I’m making more of this than it’s worth, but I gradually got the impression I was talking to the Madam of a brothel who climbed the ranks to where she only schedules the hookers and counts the money. The logic defied logic.
Believe it or not, not all places of business are that backwards and clueless. Yesterday I stopped by STAPLES to buy a few office items, and upon coming to the checkout line I noticed only one cashier working while the other two registers were empty, and three employees were all shooting the breeze as the waiting line grew.
I was second in line, behind some young lady dressed like she was on her way to a beach party. One of the employees separated from the chit-chat and approached me…
Sir, it looks like your hands are full. Could I take those items off your hands? If it’s not much trouble, I’ll check you out over at the copy center.
Oh, thanks. I appreciate your making my life a little easier.
Beach party girl gets all in a huff and yells at the employee, “Isn’t the rule ladies first?! I was here ahead of him”.
I’m sorry miss. You can’t be serious.
But he’s a guy.
With a cane… oh look, the register up front is freeing up for you. Good luck.
I wish I could say that was the last blockhead I encountered since posting my last column, but I seem to be on a hot streak. After STAPLES I drove over to Shoprite to do my grocery shopping. For the most part it was uneventful until I reached the checkout register. Given I hold my cane for dear life in my right hand, I have to maintain balance while I unload groceries from wagon to register belt with my left (which, by the way, is my weaker hand… I guess G-d DOES have a sense of humor).
After unloading all of my stuff onto the belt and having my shopper’s card and coupons ready to hand to the cashier, a young lady, cracking bubble gum, who looked barely the same age as my Toyota Corolla, and starred me loading my stuff onto the belt as if she was a zombie. As I’m about to hand her my shopper’s card and coupons, she says something unintelligible and walks away for a few minutes. In fact, the only thing I think I heard her say was “wait.” So, when she returned, still cracking her gum, I handed her my shopper’s card and coupons, and said, “you know, the appropriate thing to say to a customer is ‘sir, could you please wait a couple of minutes while I tend to something?’”
But I did.
What?
I axed you “you gotta wait.” You don’t said no, so I go.
She axed me? Hey, I’ve been axed by tenure committees, deans, and even head coaches, but I’ve never been axed by a cashier before. And how could I say no to something I couldn’t understand in the first place?
Anyway, after shaking my head and thinking “whatever”, I started bagging my stuff as she rang up the prices (like I’m going to wait for this nitwit to ax me if I expect her to bag), and then the woman behind me say, “excuse me, but would you be a dear and reach into the bottom of my wagon to pull out some things I can’t reach?” Obviously this lady didn’t notice my cane or that I’m held upright by a back brace, so I turned around holding my cane with my right hand and smiled.
Oh, shoot. I’m sorry. I just figured you were a man, so…
Yeah, she just figured, so…
Now before you think all I do is single out women who are clueless about the disabled, I do have one more little tale to share. After getting my stuff paid for, bagging it, and loaded back into my wagon, I push my wagon out to the parking lot and my car in a close-by handicapped parking space. There I am, in 90-degree humid weather, holding onto my cane for dear life with my right hand while I load bags into the trunk of my car with my left. As I’m completing this excruciating task, up walks an old man, maybe in his eighties. Honest to goodness, the man was wearing a fishing hat, Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, sandals, white tube socks, and glasses so thick you thought it was Mr. Magoo.
Hi-ya buddy. How are you today?
I beg your pardon?
You having a good day?
Excuse me? Are you alright? What can I do for you?
Oh, I don’t want to make trouble… are you handicapped?
Am I HANDICAPPED?
Yeah.
Um, yes. Do you want to inspect my vehicle plackard?
No, no. I was just wondering.
Do you need my parking space?
No, no. I’m good. Have a good day.
As he’s starting to walk away, I was tempted to pull off my shirt and let him see the monstrous vertical scar down my back, but instead called out “you mean my cane didn’t give me away enough?”
Oh, you sure look like you’re in bad shape. You’re just kinda young.
Kinda young? Hmmm… and as I turned towards my car to get in, some old lady sitting in a humongous car is waiting for my space. When I say old, I mean OLD, like the old lady from the movie Throw Momma from the Train old. And short – the top of her steering wheel literally lined up with the bridge of her nose.
And just then, this old lady gives me the finger and yells out of her window “Get out of our spots, you young punk! You’re not one of us!”
Now I’ve seen and heard it all. No point waiting for renal failure to eventually kill me off – save time and take me now, Lord.
I wish I could say this was the last bizarre experience for me yesterday, but I needed to make one more stop into Whole Foods before I returned to LensCrafters to pick up my new bifocals. I figured this had to be the simplest stop of the day – pick up four bottles of supplements and pay for them with coupons I clipped from the Whole Foods circulars. But that’s just not the way my day was going…
I come to the cashier – his name was Jimmy – and I give him my supplement bottles and coupons. I make idle chit-chat while he rings up my order. First bottle, first coupon. No problem. Second bottle, second coupon. Problem.
Sir, the register won’t allow the coupon.
Why not?
The coupon says “Limit one per purchase.”
That’s fine. I’m buying four bottles with four coupons.
I think the register means one bottle per transaction.
Per transaction?
Yes sir.
Hmmm… let me see that coupon. Nuts, I’m not wearing my new bifocals yet. Jimmy, you’ll need to move that coupon back a few feet so I can ready the print.
Is this far enough?
No, a little more… back, back, back… perfect! Wow, that’s weird. I can’t see how the coupon would work that way.
Let me call over the manager. Hey, Joe.
Yeah?
I need you to look at something. This gentleman is trying to buy four bottles of supplements with four coupons, but the register won’t allow it. I think the register wants each bottle as a separate transaction.
Let’s do it. Let’s wipe out the second bottle on this order and ring up the transaction for just the first bottle. Sir, what’s your name?
Call me “Doc”.
Okay, Doc. Is this okay with you?
Sure, I love an adventure.
Okay, Jimmy. Let’s try a new transaction after he swipes his credit card.
Hey, Jimmy, Joe, good to see you guys again!
Hey, Doc, back for more supplements?
You bet. I love Whole Foods supplements, and the price can’t be beat.
You know this month we have $2.00 off coupons.
Yes, I do. This is why I’m back for more.
Jimmy rings up the second bottle and takes off the coupon value. I swipe my VISA. Rejected.
Hey, this doesn’t make sense.
Jimmy – Joe needs to put his key in to override the register. Let’s try it again.
Okay, now it works. Good.
Jimmy rings up the third bottle and takes off another coupon value. I swipe my VISA. Rejected.
Hey guys…
Joe – no problem. I have the key handy.
We successfully override the third transaction, and now we’re on to the fourth. Well, you know how it went, so why bother repeating the same dialogue. After four transactions to buy four bottles of supplements, I thank Jimmy and Joe for their service and leave the store. After I get into my car and get ready to drive away, I suddenly imagine the strange phone call I’ll get from VISA (which I never did):
Sir, VISA Fraud Control calling you about some repeat transactions on your card.
Yes, ma’am. I just made four transactions at my local Whole Foods.
Were they all identical?
Yes ma’am.
Was this intentional?
Yes ma’am.
I see. Dr. Pushkin have you fallen and hit your head again recently?
No. NO. Well, it’s a long story. You see, the register wouldn’t let me buy four bottles of supplements in the same transaction, even though I don’t agree with the wording on the coupon. Anyway, the only way for me to buy all four bottles and use one coupon per bottle was to make four separate transactions, one for each bottle.
You were trying to outsmart the register?
Yes ma’am.
A computer?
Yes ma’am.
And you haven’t had any recent head trauma?
No ma’am. In fact my brain MRI showed everything’s still intact.
Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaay……..
Well, lucky for me I didn’t have to have this conversation with VISA, and I drove to LensCrafters without trouble, picked up my new bifocals without trouble, and drove home with the clearest vision I’ve had in weeks, with a trunk loaded with groceries, back in a state of bliss, done with some wacky experiences.
1. My brain’s still allegedly intact
2. I can see the computer screen a lot better
Wow, so that’s what my screen looks like!
So, I no longer have any excuses for delaying a new column. Brace yourselves, as I have a whole bunch of little topics to discuss…
Do you find stupid things as irritating and fascinating as I do? Since my last column I have witnessed good ol' American stupidity at work, and this isn’t even counting BP CEO Tony Heyward or Lady Gaga. Last week I got my eyes checked for the first time since last summer. I’ve been having headaches and blurry vision since I was in Potsdam earlier this month, and lately the left side of my face hasn’t exactly felt or functioned like the right side of my face. Needing a magnifying glass to read small print when you already have bifocals is usually a good sign you need stronger lenses, and sure enough I needed MUCH stronger lenses for distance and near vision (hey, at least my lousy vision is balanced).
So, I went to LensCrafters last Monday to get my eyes checked and buy new lenses for my frames. Pretty straightforward, considering it takes 7-10 days for my prescription lenses to be made and they cost anywhere between $500 and $650, depending on the lens lab. Having to get new lenses every 10-12 months is getting to be a real bummer not to mention a strong hit to my wallet. Fortunately I was able to use my AAA membership and get a 15% discount on my eye exam and lenses. I could’ve used my health insurance, but I didn’t know I needed a referral from my INTERNIST (i.e., Primary Care Physician). I need a REFERRAL from my INTERNIST to see an optometrist? Yes, in the world of Oxford Health, an optometrist is a specialist and you need a referral to see any specialist.
Okay, I can understand needing a referral to see a neurosurgeon, but an optometrist? How am I supposed to discuss this with my internist? What’s he supposed to say? Gee, Dr. Pushkin, your blood pressure and cholesterol are perfect but I suspect you may be blind as a bat. It’s not often my middle-aged patients walk directly into the door of the exam room.
Maybe I’m being a tad silly, but I would think my neurologist would be a better judge of my vision, considering he actually examines my senses.
Anyway, so while my new bifocal lenses were on order, I tried toughing it out with my old glasses, but it was really getting ridiculous. I was scheduled to see my neurologist on Wednesday, so I told him what was going on. The first thing he did was have me to take off my glasses and try and follow the pen light he was shining. My first response was “what light? Oh, THAT light!” Next he tells me to put my glasses back on and try it again, and I said, “Mario! Good to see you! Where did you disappear to?” Obviously bemused, but NOT amused, he then did some prick testing on my face with a toothpick. Do you feel that any differently on this side? “Feel what?” Okay, let’s try this again. “Well, um, I can’t really tell.”
Okay, stick out your tongue and say ‘ah’. Hey, why does your mouth do that? “Do what?” One side opens wide and the other doesn’t. “Do I look like a neurologist? That’s why I come to you.”
Okay, put your arms out, hands open, palms up, close your eyes, and touch your nose with each index finger. First, that’s way too much information to give a guy who may have a scrambled brain. My left hand flunked. I almost poked my right eye out, but my right hand found my right nostril, so I was now batting .500. Okay, put your hands out and hold them there for me to prick them… where did your left arm go? Hmmm… how do you feel about another brain MRI?
Oh, I dunno… how do you feel about colonoscopies and prostate exams? Just fill in the blank with “brain MRI”.
The suspicion was a mini-stroke, perhaps something down in my cervical spinal cord as opposed to my actual brain. Okay, it seems like I’m getting one of these every six months, so you just suck it up and go for the test, which I had this past Friday. In the meantime, I’m still having headaches and blurry vision, and still several days away from having new bifocals. So, on Thursday, I decided to stop by Cohen’s Vision Center while en route to grocery shopping. Why? I had a coupon for two sets of cheap lenses in conjunction with my AAA membership. It only takes one hour. I had two older frames, one being for reading glasses, so I had Cohen’s make two new sets of cheap backup glasses – one for distance vision and one for reading. This way I could manage with separate glasses while I drive or read the newspaper, but obviously not both at the same time. Consider this a stopgap measure, and it helped to a degree. Why didn’t I have LensCrafters do it for me three days earlier? I could get a better discount from Cohen’s. I may be semi-blind, but I ain’t stupid.
On my way out of the mall, I was walking towards one of the handicapped exit doors. A lady was in front of me, pushed the door and held it open so I could pass through after her. Before I could even thank her, some guy in a suit with briefcase in hand, shoves me from behind and walks past me through the doorway. The lady was pissed. I was stunned, and this putz thanks us both for holding the door for him. We asked this bozo what his “deal” was, and he looked at me and said, "you were in my way and were too slow".
Too slow? Excuse me? I walk with a cane on a GOOD day. I’ve earned the right to walk slow. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, that’s my legal right under the Americans with Disabilities Act, especially since I was passing through a handicapped door and would’ve pushed the automated button if the lady (not disabled, by the way) hadn’t pushed the door on her own.
So, while the lady was telling this jerk what a jerk he was, and he was telling us he had better things to do and was late for an appointment, I leaned against a pillar with my left hand and casually dragged my cane tip in the dirt of the neighboring flower bed. Then with my right hand, I softly lifted my cane in an upswing to subtly hit his crotch with the cane tip. When he reacted with what the hell are you doing? I replied with a smirk, “Sorry. Involuntary cripple movement. Geez, you have a dirt smudge on your suit pants. Is that gonna be trouble for your next appointment?” Consider that the final word of the encounter as I wobbled to my car, satisfied and ready to go home.
By the way, if you met a needle-nosed putz with a dirt smudge on the front of his pants on Thursday, that was MY handiwork. You’re welcome.
Two great things about being neurologically impaired –
1) Memory lapses and occasional inappropriate behavior.
2) Memory lapses and occasional inappropriate behavior.
Did I mention I needed a brain MRI?
Oh yeah, I survived Friday’s brain MRI and was looking forward to a restful weekend. For some reason I decided to be adventurous with cooking Sunday’s dinner. I was in the mood for salmon and stir-fried veggies (yellow squash, zucchini, onions, baby portabella mushrooms), but I wanted to do something different than baking and broiling the salmon in my toaster oven. Hey, I thought, why not pan-sear the salmon like they do in restaurants? Yeah, sure, let’s try it… pan-blackened salmon with spices.
If you’ve ever cooked a fish like salmon, you know it’s a tad fatty (but a good fat, by the way, Omega-3). I pretty much had everything under control for most of this new cooking challenge, especially since my pan was covered. But when I got to the very end of searing, the spices got smoky and lo and behold, I set off my smoke detector. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Long story short, I covered back up the salmon, turned off the stove burner, and opened a window to let any smoke escape without sending it into my building’s hallway and creating a need for the East Rutherford Fire Department.
In the middle of all this, the desk clerk where I live calls my place because the smoke detector is wired to the front desk. Given my declining mobility and I was trying to finish cooking the fish without ruining it, I almost fell down and cracked my head trying to get to the phone, which was nowhere in or near my kitchen (isn't it rather odd I pay $950/month for rent on a place that has three phone jacks, but only one works?). But after 8-9 rings I finally grab the phone to listen to him ask if all was okay. I told him I overcooked my fish but had things under control.
This isn’t the rest of the story. After I ate my dinner (which was absolutely delicious, by the way) and cleaned up the kitchen, I walked down the hall (yes, my place is approximately 150 feet down the hall from the front desk) and stopped by the front desk to chat with the clerk after I put my trash in the trash room. I explained to the clerk, a young man in his early 20s, what happened with my cooking adventure, but advised him for any future incident he should walk down the hall and knock on my door to check if I’m okay as opposed to calling on the phone. His response was that he had to call my room because of protocol in order to check for my safety. I told him I understood that, but given my being disabled and my proximity to the front desk it would make more sense to physically walk down the hall and knock on the door. His response – hey, I did my job, you answered the phone, and everything’s okay. Never mind that it took 8-9 rings before I could answer the phone. Never mind that this was the first time my smoke detector ever went off, and never mind the fact that I’ve already fallen multiple times in the past 8 months living here. He picked up the phone, as the protocol requires, so he did his job, and that’s all he needed to do. And this was all for MY safety.
I told him if he was really worried about my safety he would’ve walked 150 feet down the hall rather than sit behind the desk reading a magazine and using the phone. I also told him he needs to think about which units are involved when a smoke detector goes off and who the resident is, considering my building has more than a few disabled residents. There’s doing your job and doing the job, and there’s a fundamental distinction, especially when safety and potential lawsuits are involved. Sometimes the help you think you’re providing potentially makes matters worse.
His response, to a disabled person more than twice his age? Don’t you f___king disrespect me again! I’m always nice to your ass so you don’t f___king disrespect me!
Well, I don’t know about you folks, but when some kid starts throwing F-Bombs at me while I’m trying to advise him how to be more helpful to people whose rent helps provide his paycheck, I tap into my Brooklyn roots and give it back to him as he dished it out. Then I placed a call to our manager and explained that this young man needs a mini-lecture on how to take advice and respond to it. End of story, the kid had to apologize and got a lesson from his bosses on how to think before he does something or says anything. I’m sure this is the kind of valuable teaching moment even someone like General Stanley McChrystal could use.
Is anyone surprised the general’s resignation was eagerly accepted by President Obama? Hey, if Truman could fire MacArthur during the Korean war, why should McChrystal be untouchable? Then again, if I were McChrystal I’d be wondering why Rolling Stone wants to interview me in the first place and whether shooting off my big mouth is necessarily the smartest idea. Come to think of it, if I was McChrystal I’d be wishing Sarah Palin was in the White House, given she only skims the print media.
But McChrystal and my weekend desk clerk really get to the heart of deeper issues plaguing our society. One issue is the inability to recognize there’s a time and place for everything, including when to say certain things and not to say certain things. You don’t think Helen Thomas is the only guilty offender do you? When you’re the lead general in our war efforts in Afghanistan, whether you agree with your orders or not, it’s really not wise to tell Rolling Stone dirt on the president, vice-president, and other members of the current administration… unless this is your master plan for an early discharge. Hey, for all we know, General McChrystal may’ve wanted to get his life back – oops that’s Tony Heyward. Sorry, only one life back per month. Take a number, General, and wait your turn.
The second issue, which really applies to my weekend desk clerk, is that people really don’t seem to give a damn about doing the best job they can while they have one. In a nation with essentially double-digit unemployment, it boggles my mind how many people simply go through the motions in their jobs – and expect to be rewarded for a job done with mediocrity. Remember those AVIS rental car commercials advertising We try harder? Boy, those commercials seem light-years ago, sort of like those Hertz commercials with O.J. running through airports instead of rolling along I-5 in that Ford Bronco.
It seems now the motto for so many should be Well, we tried something, or A half-assed job is better than nothing. Is it just me or are we finally starting to see the full manifestation of the Millennial Generation? You know, people born after 1980 who finally entered colleges and the workforce at the start of the 21st century? This is supposed to be the savvy generation, the technologically sophisticated generation, the Twitter and Facebook generation. And we’re seeing more and more softness, less mental toughness, and people who fall to pieces in the face of feedback without at least a participation ribbon (think back to Ben Stiller’s character in Meet the Parents and Meet the Fockers).
This is hardly the first or last time I’ll ponder this phenomenon. In fact, this past Friday I encountered similar half-hearted work ethic en route to my brain MRI. I stopped by my bank, Capital One, to make a transaction requiring me dealing in person with a teller. I walked into the branch and noticed three people ahead of me, and only one teller at the windows. So I stood. And stood. And stood some more. Approximately 10 minutes later, the person in front of me noticed me standing propped with my cane and said, “this is crazy… I bet standing here isn’t helping you". No, it certainly wasn’t.
Then the branch manager, who had been sitting at her desk since I walked in, got up and walked into a side room where you could see through the doorway that employees were sitting and having a pizza party. A couple of minutes later, one girl arrives at a teller window and asks for the next customer. Now you’d possibly think the person standing in front of me would offer me his turn given his concern for my lengthy time standing. Nope. He immediately smiled at me and said “Thank G-d” and made his beeline for the teller.
So I stood for another 10 minutes waiting for an available teller. Why didn’t I simply leave? I needed to complete this transaction before the weekend. Anyway, after 20-plus minutes of standing I finally got to the teller window to carry out my mission, which took approximately five minutes.
On my way from the teller window I decided to stop by the manager’s desk and introduce myself. I asked her if it ever occurred to her to come ask me if I needed any assistance, considering I’m disabled. Her response?
Oh, but I did take care of your situation. I went in back to get one of the spare girls to work the teller window.
But you didn’t notice I still stood in line for over 20 minutes?
Yeah, but I doubled the number of girls at the windows. You see, I usually only have three tellers on Friday, and two are out to lunch right now, so I got one of the spare girls to help out.
(Wait a minute… “spare girls”? Is this a bank branch or a brothel?)
I see. What’s wrong with you?
Excuse me?
You’re the manager, right?
Yeah.
Did it ever occur to you that YOU could’ve worked a window too so people don’t have to stand 20 minutes waiting for service?
Oh I can’t do that?
Why not?
I’m the manager. I don’t do windows.
You’re the manager, and you don’t do windows.
No sir.
Are doing windows beneath your position as manager?
The tellers do the windows, or we use spare girls.
So you’re the manager and not a spare girl anymore? I think I see where you’re coming from. So if I come back to your branch with a disability rights attorney you’ll feel comfortable providing him the same explanation?
I’m the manager, sir. Here’s my desk. I don’t do the windows.
Good luck to you. Have a nice day.
Maybe I’m making more of this than it’s worth, but I gradually got the impression I was talking to the Madam of a brothel who climbed the ranks to where she only schedules the hookers and counts the money. The logic defied logic.
Believe it or not, not all places of business are that backwards and clueless. Yesterday I stopped by STAPLES to buy a few office items, and upon coming to the checkout line I noticed only one cashier working while the other two registers were empty, and three employees were all shooting the breeze as the waiting line grew.
I was second in line, behind some young lady dressed like she was on her way to a beach party. One of the employees separated from the chit-chat and approached me…
Sir, it looks like your hands are full. Could I take those items off your hands? If it’s not much trouble, I’ll check you out over at the copy center.
Oh, thanks. I appreciate your making my life a little easier.
Beach party girl gets all in a huff and yells at the employee, “Isn’t the rule ladies first?! I was here ahead of him”.
I’m sorry miss. You can’t be serious.
But he’s a guy.
With a cane… oh look, the register up front is freeing up for you. Good luck.
I wish I could say that was the last blockhead I encountered since posting my last column, but I seem to be on a hot streak. After STAPLES I drove over to Shoprite to do my grocery shopping. For the most part it was uneventful until I reached the checkout register. Given I hold my cane for dear life in my right hand, I have to maintain balance while I unload groceries from wagon to register belt with my left (which, by the way, is my weaker hand… I guess G-d DOES have a sense of humor).
After unloading all of my stuff onto the belt and having my shopper’s card and coupons ready to hand to the cashier, a young lady, cracking bubble gum, who looked barely the same age as my Toyota Corolla, and starred me loading my stuff onto the belt as if she was a zombie. As I’m about to hand her my shopper’s card and coupons, she says something unintelligible and walks away for a few minutes. In fact, the only thing I think I heard her say was “wait.” So, when she returned, still cracking her gum, I handed her my shopper’s card and coupons, and said, “you know, the appropriate thing to say to a customer is ‘sir, could you please wait a couple of minutes while I tend to something?’”
But I did.
What?
I axed you “you gotta wait.” You don’t said no, so I go.
She axed me? Hey, I’ve been axed by tenure committees, deans, and even head coaches, but I’ve never been axed by a cashier before. And how could I say no to something I couldn’t understand in the first place?
Anyway, after shaking my head and thinking “whatever”, I started bagging my stuff as she rang up the prices (like I’m going to wait for this nitwit to ax me if I expect her to bag), and then the woman behind me say, “excuse me, but would you be a dear and reach into the bottom of my wagon to pull out some things I can’t reach?” Obviously this lady didn’t notice my cane or that I’m held upright by a back brace, so I turned around holding my cane with my right hand and smiled.
Oh, shoot. I’m sorry. I just figured you were a man, so…
Yeah, she just figured, so…
Now before you think all I do is single out women who are clueless about the disabled, I do have one more little tale to share. After getting my stuff paid for, bagging it, and loaded back into my wagon, I push my wagon out to the parking lot and my car in a close-by handicapped parking space. There I am, in 90-degree humid weather, holding onto my cane for dear life with my right hand while I load bags into the trunk of my car with my left. As I’m completing this excruciating task, up walks an old man, maybe in his eighties. Honest to goodness, the man was wearing a fishing hat, Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, sandals, white tube socks, and glasses so thick you thought it was Mr. Magoo.
Hi-ya buddy. How are you today?
I beg your pardon?
You having a good day?
Excuse me? Are you alright? What can I do for you?
Oh, I don’t want to make trouble… are you handicapped?
Am I HANDICAPPED?
Yeah.
Um, yes. Do you want to inspect my vehicle plackard?
No, no. I was just wondering.
Do you need my parking space?
No, no. I’m good. Have a good day.
As he’s starting to walk away, I was tempted to pull off my shirt and let him see the monstrous vertical scar down my back, but instead called out “you mean my cane didn’t give me away enough?”
Oh, you sure look like you’re in bad shape. You’re just kinda young.
Kinda young? Hmmm… and as I turned towards my car to get in, some old lady sitting in a humongous car is waiting for my space. When I say old, I mean OLD, like the old lady from the movie Throw Momma from the Train old. And short – the top of her steering wheel literally lined up with the bridge of her nose.
And just then, this old lady gives me the finger and yells out of her window “Get out of our spots, you young punk! You’re not one of us!”
Now I’ve seen and heard it all. No point waiting for renal failure to eventually kill me off – save time and take me now, Lord.
I wish I could say this was the last bizarre experience for me yesterday, but I needed to make one more stop into Whole Foods before I returned to LensCrafters to pick up my new bifocals. I figured this had to be the simplest stop of the day – pick up four bottles of supplements and pay for them with coupons I clipped from the Whole Foods circulars. But that’s just not the way my day was going…
I come to the cashier – his name was Jimmy – and I give him my supplement bottles and coupons. I make idle chit-chat while he rings up my order. First bottle, first coupon. No problem. Second bottle, second coupon. Problem.
Sir, the register won’t allow the coupon.
Why not?
The coupon says “Limit one per purchase.”
That’s fine. I’m buying four bottles with four coupons.
I think the register means one bottle per transaction.
Per transaction?
Yes sir.
Hmmm… let me see that coupon. Nuts, I’m not wearing my new bifocals yet. Jimmy, you’ll need to move that coupon back a few feet so I can ready the print.
Is this far enough?
No, a little more… back, back, back… perfect! Wow, that’s weird. I can’t see how the coupon would work that way.
Let me call over the manager. Hey, Joe.
Yeah?
I need you to look at something. This gentleman is trying to buy four bottles of supplements with four coupons, but the register won’t allow it. I think the register wants each bottle as a separate transaction.
Let’s do it. Let’s wipe out the second bottle on this order and ring up the transaction for just the first bottle. Sir, what’s your name?
Call me “Doc”.
Okay, Doc. Is this okay with you?
Sure, I love an adventure.
Okay, Jimmy. Let’s try a new transaction after he swipes his credit card.
Hey, Jimmy, Joe, good to see you guys again!
Hey, Doc, back for more supplements?
You bet. I love Whole Foods supplements, and the price can’t be beat.
You know this month we have $2.00 off coupons.
Yes, I do. This is why I’m back for more.
Jimmy rings up the second bottle and takes off the coupon value. I swipe my VISA. Rejected.
Hey, this doesn’t make sense.
Jimmy – Joe needs to put his key in to override the register. Let’s try it again.
Okay, now it works. Good.
Jimmy rings up the third bottle and takes off another coupon value. I swipe my VISA. Rejected.
Hey guys…
Joe – no problem. I have the key handy.
We successfully override the third transaction, and now we’re on to the fourth. Well, you know how it went, so why bother repeating the same dialogue. After four transactions to buy four bottles of supplements, I thank Jimmy and Joe for their service and leave the store. After I get into my car and get ready to drive away, I suddenly imagine the strange phone call I’ll get from VISA (which I never did):
Sir, VISA Fraud Control calling you about some repeat transactions on your card.
Yes, ma’am. I just made four transactions at my local Whole Foods.
Were they all identical?
Yes ma’am.
Was this intentional?
Yes ma’am.
I see. Dr. Pushkin have you fallen and hit your head again recently?
No. NO. Well, it’s a long story. You see, the register wouldn’t let me buy four bottles of supplements in the same transaction, even though I don’t agree with the wording on the coupon. Anyway, the only way for me to buy all four bottles and use one coupon per bottle was to make four separate transactions, one for each bottle.
You were trying to outsmart the register?
Yes ma’am.
A computer?
Yes ma’am.
And you haven’t had any recent head trauma?
No ma’am. In fact my brain MRI showed everything’s still intact.
Okaaaaaaaaaaaaaay……..
Well, lucky for me I didn’t have to have this conversation with VISA, and I drove to LensCrafters without trouble, picked up my new bifocals without trouble, and drove home with the clearest vision I’ve had in weeks, with a trunk loaded with groceries, back in a state of bliss, done with some wacky experiences.
Stuff about Sports that don’t make sense to me -- Sports Thoughts for June 24, 2010
I think I’m more than entitled to love sports and be confounded by sports as well. Like most sports fans, I’m sure, there are certain sports I gravitate to and enjoy and others not as much. For the most part I’m a football and baseball guy, although I can get into hockey, basketball and tennis.
One sport I don’t really “get” is soccer. One of my good friends and loyal readers, Joe from Connecticut, asked me after last week’s column, “What? No World Cup Football?” Well, no, since I’m not really into soccer or the World Cup, and certainly no authority on soccer, I didn’t include it.
Don’t get me wrong. I think soccer’s a wonderful sport around the world and I’m thrilled for those who love it and enjoy the World Cup games, but I don’t connect much with it. In a way, being a football guy, it’s a shame, because if it weren’t for soccer players, placekicking in the NFL would never be revolutionized during the 1960s with the Gogolak brothers, Jan Stenerud, and Garo Yepremian. Then again, it’s kickers like Garo Yepremian that make football guys like me cringe and chuckle – remember his days with the Detroit Lions when he was alleged by Alex Karras to say “I keek a touchdown”? Or when he almost sabotaged Super Bowl VII for Don Shula’s Miami Dolphins when he turned a blocked field goal into a Keystone Cops routine and let the Redskins back in the game?
I enjoy watching kids play soccer in parks. I enjoyed attending boys and girls soccer matches back in the days when I was a high school teacher and football coach. But I just have trouble getting excited for professional soccer matches or the World Cup. Part of the problem is all these matches seem to end in draws, and a draw in soccer tends to be scoreless. In fact, FIFA can’t even bring itself to call it a tie like we do in the NFL, MLB, NHL, NBA, or NCAA. Think about it – a draw is equivalent to a stalemate. Stalemate… that sounds so military, like the outcome of the Korean War.
Never mind the refs who can’t make correct calls on the field and disallow goals scored (as if these goals weren’t hard enough to come by), these guys are the ONLY ones who seem to know exactly how much time is left in a match. This is VERY confusing to me. When the US beat Algeria yesterday, Landon Donovan scored the winning goal at the 91st minute, so I assume this was part of “extra time”, but they still kept playing the game. Isn’t “extra time” the same idea as overtime? I mean, it certainly ain’t extra innings or the fifth set of a tennis match (more on that later). I feel like the refs are keeping a deep dark secret to play a mean trick on players and fans.
Another close friend and loyal reader, Mark from Montclair, tells me “some mystery is good in soccer”. Mystery? This isn’t Sherlock Holmes; it’s a sporting event. And I feel like the refs are playing the role of Carnac from the old Johnny Carson Show.
You know what this really reminds me of, all those nauseating visits I had to make to my in-laws while I was married. They went on and on and on, but only I knew when it was time to bid adieu…
Gee, guys, look at the time. We really need to get going because we have a lot of stuff to take care of around the house. Yes, I appreciate chronic hemorrhoids can be fatal, Carole, but I’m sure your doctor knows what he’s doing. You really don’t need a bedside vigil yet. Yes, we care about you, and I know I’ll be thinking about you when I get home and take a couple of Xanax with beer. Yes, thanks again for your hospitality. Yes, time to go. Feel better. Yes, we’ll be home in 20 minutes, so you can call Beth and talk some more. Yes, bye. Be well (oy gevault…).
I promise to return to more thoughts on the World Cup, but speaking of interminable, how about that first round Wimbledon match between American John Isner and Nicolas Mahut of France? Talk about a match for the ages, primarily because we all AGED while this thing went on and on and on. 70-68, Isner in the fifth set. The longest match, in games and time, in history. The most individual and combined aces served in a match. The most everything in the match, including ridiculous. And I like tennis!
You all know my views on overtime in football, so none of you should be shocked at what I’m about to say. I have no problem with playing out the fifth set of a tennis match until someone wins by two games, but this really should be reserved for the men’s finals. Period. Exclamation point. Just like the NFL has ruined a good thing by adding regular season overtime since 1974, Wimbledon has now spoiled the fifth set for all of us with this insanity during a first round match. A FIRST ROUND MATCH. Is it really necessary to put Isner and Mahut through all this just to get to the second round? Does anyone realize there are already players moving onto the THIRD ROUND while Isner and Mahut played their match over three days?
What would’ve happened if darkness came tonight in London and Isner and Mahut were still playing, perhaps knotted at 100-100? When do you draw the line and pull the plug on this marathon? When the first fortnight ends and everyone shuts down on Sunday?
And what were Wimbledon officials thinking by not moving this match to one of the lighted courts after Tuesday? Didn’t anyone have the foresight to envision things going beyond Wednesday? Neither player was losing serve. In fact, it wasn’t until the final game that anyone lost serve for who can remember. These guys were acing each other at a record pace. It was the baseball equivalent of Nolan Ryan pitching against his clone.
I admit, after a while it was fun to watch this match go on forever, but we need some mechanism for practicality. Could you imagine Wimbledon needing to extend the men’s play past the MLB All-Star Game because these guys are still playing game 1,000 of the fifth set? Don’t laugh; I honestly started wondering this scenario.
I think Wimbledon really should have some type of tiebreaker mechanism for the fifth set of early-round matches. If you don’t want the same type of tiebreaker used in the first four sets, then play to a certain point and then employ some type of “shoot-out” equivalent. Maybe have each player switch to one hand of poker or blackjack. Or maybe have them thumb wrestle. Or maybe have them guess a number between 1 and 1,000. Or maybe guess the number of dresses Queen Elizabeth owns. Or the circumference of Prince Charles’ ears. But don’t make these poor sods play 138 games before someone finally loses serve.
Speaking of poor sods, didn’t you start to envision Isner and Mahut playing to the death like the knight losing limb by limb in Monty Python and the Holy Grail? That crossed my mind last night while watching highlights of Part Deux of this odyssey.
But it was great tennis, nonetheless. After a match like this I don’t know how Isner sustains himself for the next round and beyond, and I’d hate to see later matches go long distance because you know the Isner-Mahut match will be the standard to compare with.
This leads me to one final criticism of the All-England tennis Club. Who in Heaven’s name was that official with the microphone turning the culmination of the match into a mini-circus? Yes, I thought it was nice to commemorate the historic match, but it seemed a tad overkill not to mention unfair to Mahut who looked like he really just wanted to drown himself in a whirlpool bath in the training room. Perhaps the point where this official should’ve stopped yakking was when he asked Mahut about the pressure he might’ve felt having to serve 65 times from behind during the fifth set. If you watched this exchange on ESPN take place like I did you really had to wonder how any athlete could or should bother answering moments after losing a contest.
Official - Tell me Nicolas, did you feel the pressure of having to serve 65 times from behind during that final set?
Mahut – Well, the first 64 weren’t so hard, but the last one finally broke me. By the way, did you know I have homicidal tendencies towards dopey Brits who ask dopey questions?
What’s Mahut supposed to say?! This is another good reason why some folks shouldn’t ask athletes questions. In fact, this ranks as silly a question as the one asked of Doug Williams on Media Day prior to Super Bowl XXI:
Reporter – Have you always been a black quarterback?
Williams (what he should’ve said) – I don’t rightly know, sir. I’ve been black since birth, and been chuckin’ the rock since before high school. So I reckon the answer lies somewhere between 1960 and 1970. Does that answer your question?
Why do people ask such questions? Because they don’t think before opening their mouths! Think about it for a second, if you write down your question and read it to yourself as if it’s asked of you, and you feel odd answering it, chances are good you shouldn’t ask it.
This leads me back to the USA’s World Cup victory over Algeria. As much as I’m not really into soccer, I’m very happy for soccer fans as well as those playing for the USA team. I think the victory is great for the sport and America, but please stop treating this like the sporting equivalent of D-Day. I was listening to ESPN Radio New York (1050 AM) yesterday afternoon and was stupefied by Michael Kay’s show and the discussion of how yesterday’s win ranked against other great sports moments. People were comparing this win to the 1980 Olympic USA hockey team’s win over the Soviets and Brent Boone’s winning home run for the Yankees in Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS. Give me a break. This win doesn’t rank anywhere with the greatest upsets in sports history and it sure as heck ranks as more meaningful than one of a multitude of trips to the World Series by the Yankees. Talk about the wackiest comparison of “apples to oranges.”
But what really ticked me off was caller after caller talking about how this win was a referendum for America as a nation, and Kay feeding off this. Feeling a little sense of national pride is one thing, but going on and on and on how a soccer match is some sort of symbol to remind us how the United States is the greatest country in the world, damned the rest of the folks who hate us. HELLO?! This is exactly why lots of other countries hate us! We get on talk radio shows and blather on and on about how we’re the best this or greatest that, and we forget there are plenty of other great nations and cities besides the USA and New York. Is it so terrible for us to accept the United States happens to be one of several pretty wonderful countries and New York happens to be one of several pretty wonderful cities? What Kay and his loyal callers consider national pride borders somewhat on jingoism and arrogance. Heck, the only thing missing was the Wagner music in the background!
In case you forgot, one of the key points from “The two Escobars” – Wednesday night’s ESPN documentary from their 30 for 30 series -- is that soccer players can get killed if their team loses in World Cup competition. My point is to enjoy the winning but keep things in perspective without getting carried away.
Moving along to other things I’m still trying to get my head around…
So, now Washington Redskins defensive tackle Albert Haynesworth is willing to report to training camp next month after staging his extended hissy fit and staying away from mini-camps? Gee, I’m touched. Hey, Fat Albert (I’ve always wanted to say that)… what’s the real reason why you’re making such a stink about playing in a 3-4 defense for head coach Mike Shanahan? Are you afraid your sack numbers will go down and hurt bids for the Pro Bowl? Perhaps lower sack numbers might hurt your position when you try to negotiate your next over-inflated contract? Perhaps you’re afraid Coach Shanahan will hold you more accountable than Jim Zorn did? Perhaps you’re afraid of taking on double teams since your famed head stomp move got punished a few years ago? Perhaps you’re just a big fat baby who’s happy collecting the paycheck without putting out on the field like you used to? It’s not like I’m among a small minority disgusted with you and your actions. Article after article’s been written about how selfish your teammates and other NFL peers feel about you. Heck, you were even called out a few months ago by Joe Namath on Twitter. If ol’ Joe is calling you a lazy freeloader after all the battering he took for 13 years as a quarterback, you know you’re lazy freeloader.
This brings me to Carolina Panthers wide receiver Steve Smith and his recently broken left arm, courtesy of playing flag football at his local YMCA. Do I have a problem with Smith playing flag football with some local guys? No, but I do have a problem with Smith playing flag football before training camp, especially when he’s returning from breaking his left arm and missing the last part of the 2009 season. Steve, what were you thinking, if at all? Steve, what is it about you and injuries? Not only have you demonstrated how fragile you are on the field, now we see you’re equally as fragile OFF the field. As much as you’re the Panthers’ best receiver, has it occurred to you that maybe you’re providing diminishing returns with each year you miss games for injuries, or punching a teammate’s lights out during training camp (Ken Lucas, broken nose and cheekbone, 2006)?
Am I crazy, or is it possible pitching perfect games isn’t necessarily such a good thing for pitchers? Have you noticed both Philadelphia’s Roy Halladay and Oakland’s Dallas Braden are recently on extended losing trends since their perfectos? I know a perfect game doesn’t get any better, but it’s a little surprising to see how much both have slid the past few weeks.
Has anyone looked at the MLB standings recently? Is anyone really that surprised the top three records all belong in the AL East with the Rays, Yankees, and Red Sox all breathing on each other’s neck? Think back to March, folks… weren’t most baseball experts predicting a three-horse race in what is arguably MLB’s best division? Oh, and I guess we now know the answer to the questions "are the Red Sox put together wrong?" and "Is Big Papi finished?"
Oh, and for those Yankee fans thinking this past weekend’s edition of the Subway Series reaffirms that the Yankees are indeed superior to the Mets, let me toss a little reality to you. First, the Yankees won 2 of 3 at their stadium just like the Mets did at Citi the month before. Only 10 of MLB’s 30 teams have a winning road record so far this season, so according to trend, the Yankees did what they were supposed to do and so did the Mets. The Mets may have recently fattened up on a 7-2 road trip by going 6-0 against Baltimore and Cleveland, but 10 of the Yankees’ 45 wins have come against the Orioles, so the Bronx Bombers certainly do their fair share of fattening up too.
Are the Yankees a better team than the Mets? Looking at the standings and team statistics, one could argue yes, but that’s what was expected before the season ever began. I think the question should be are the Mets playing as well as the Yankees, and the answer happens to be yes. The Yankees are 45-27. The Mets are 41-30. Both teams have almost identical home records; the Yankees play a little better on the road. But the Yankees recently struggled in Arizona despite winning 2 of 3. The fact is both teams are playing pretty good baseball right now, split the 6-game Subway Series this year, and are both in fun divisional races as summer begins. No matter who you root for, could you really ask for anything more heading into the last week of June?
Speaking of the Orioles, we’re now starting to see articles bringing attention to their woeful season record, reaching 50 losses before their 70th game. Three notable teams to achieve this dubious feat are the 1962 Mets, 1988 Orioles (they started 0-21), and 2003 Tigers. The ’88 Orioles finished 54-107. The ’03 Tigers finished 43-119.
But my Mets – True Blue since ’62 – started existence with a pathetic 40-120 record. Let me save all the experts, statisticians, and talking heads a lot of time and energy… no matter how bad the Orioles end up this season, NO ONE – repeat, NO ONE – will EVER, or could ever compare to those lovable bumbling Mets under the stewardship of Casey Stengel. The Orioles could lose 130 games and still never rank as the worst collection of players in MLB history. Why? Because the ’62 Mets were an expansion team of cast-offs, misfits, and any form of ragamuffin you could put on a lineup card. There was never an ounce of hope for that team and they never failed to put smiles on faces, giggles in hearts, and disbelief in shaking heads as they created new ways to lose, day after day, nights too.
Are the Orioles bad? Oh yes they are, but no matter how bad they may end up being in terms of losses, there’s no way their entry in the record book should EVER replace the ignominy of that very first Mets team. Take that, ELIAS!
I’m enjoying the success Washington Nationals phenomenon Stephen Strasburg’s having so far on the mound, but I also notice how reality is setting in and despite all his impressive stats, these aren’t necessarily translating to Nats wins. In four starts he now has a record on 2-1 with one no-decision. In his last two starts the Nats have hardly scored any runs. Just thought I’d mention this.
Lastly, let’s pause for a moment and think about the Florida Marlins firing manager Freddie Gonzalez two days ago. While the Marlins may be “struggling” or “underperforming”, I warned you all last month that this move could happen in the wake of Hanley Ramirez’s public hissy fit in response to Gonzalez benching him for lack of hustle. Ramirez openly questioned Gonzalez’s credibility as a manager, and no matter what Hall of Famers Tony Perez and Andre Dawson said to him as a means to set him straight, the damage was done and Gonzalez risked losing his players in a passive-aggressive revolt.
That being said, I also pointed out the last time this happened with the Marlins was 2003 when John Boles was also fired after players questioned his baseball pedigree and Jack McKeon took the helm. We all remember what happened next – the Marlins got hot and dangerous all the way to winning the World Series in six games over the Yankees. Now we hear Bobby Valentine took his name out of consideration for managing in Baltimore and now he’s at the top of the interview list in Miami. Call me crazy, but I do subscribe to Yogi Berra’s theory of déjà vu all over again, and if Bobby V takes his act to South Beach, don’t be shocked if the Marlins kick it into gear and race past the Braves, Mets, and Phillies.
Oh, and if Bobby V does take over in South Beach and the Marlins do win the NL East, there may not be a cap big enough for his head.
One sport I don’t really “get” is soccer. One of my good friends and loyal readers, Joe from Connecticut, asked me after last week’s column, “What? No World Cup Football?” Well, no, since I’m not really into soccer or the World Cup, and certainly no authority on soccer, I didn’t include it.
Don’t get me wrong. I think soccer’s a wonderful sport around the world and I’m thrilled for those who love it and enjoy the World Cup games, but I don’t connect much with it. In a way, being a football guy, it’s a shame, because if it weren’t for soccer players, placekicking in the NFL would never be revolutionized during the 1960s with the Gogolak brothers, Jan Stenerud, and Garo Yepremian. Then again, it’s kickers like Garo Yepremian that make football guys like me cringe and chuckle – remember his days with the Detroit Lions when he was alleged by Alex Karras to say “I keek a touchdown”? Or when he almost sabotaged Super Bowl VII for Don Shula’s Miami Dolphins when he turned a blocked field goal into a Keystone Cops routine and let the Redskins back in the game?
I enjoy watching kids play soccer in parks. I enjoyed attending boys and girls soccer matches back in the days when I was a high school teacher and football coach. But I just have trouble getting excited for professional soccer matches or the World Cup. Part of the problem is all these matches seem to end in draws, and a draw in soccer tends to be scoreless. In fact, FIFA can’t even bring itself to call it a tie like we do in the NFL, MLB, NHL, NBA, or NCAA. Think about it – a draw is equivalent to a stalemate. Stalemate… that sounds so military, like the outcome of the Korean War.
Never mind the refs who can’t make correct calls on the field and disallow goals scored (as if these goals weren’t hard enough to come by), these guys are the ONLY ones who seem to know exactly how much time is left in a match. This is VERY confusing to me. When the US beat Algeria yesterday, Landon Donovan scored the winning goal at the 91st minute, so I assume this was part of “extra time”, but they still kept playing the game. Isn’t “extra time” the same idea as overtime? I mean, it certainly ain’t extra innings or the fifth set of a tennis match (more on that later). I feel like the refs are keeping a deep dark secret to play a mean trick on players and fans.
Another close friend and loyal reader, Mark from Montclair, tells me “some mystery is good in soccer”. Mystery? This isn’t Sherlock Holmes; it’s a sporting event. And I feel like the refs are playing the role of Carnac from the old Johnny Carson Show.
You know what this really reminds me of, all those nauseating visits I had to make to my in-laws while I was married. They went on and on and on, but only I knew when it was time to bid adieu…
Gee, guys, look at the time. We really need to get going because we have a lot of stuff to take care of around the house. Yes, I appreciate chronic hemorrhoids can be fatal, Carole, but I’m sure your doctor knows what he’s doing. You really don’t need a bedside vigil yet. Yes, we care about you, and I know I’ll be thinking about you when I get home and take a couple of Xanax with beer. Yes, thanks again for your hospitality. Yes, time to go. Feel better. Yes, we’ll be home in 20 minutes, so you can call Beth and talk some more. Yes, bye. Be well (oy gevault…).
I promise to return to more thoughts on the World Cup, but speaking of interminable, how about that first round Wimbledon match between American John Isner and Nicolas Mahut of France? Talk about a match for the ages, primarily because we all AGED while this thing went on and on and on. 70-68, Isner in the fifth set. The longest match, in games and time, in history. The most individual and combined aces served in a match. The most everything in the match, including ridiculous. And I like tennis!
You all know my views on overtime in football, so none of you should be shocked at what I’m about to say. I have no problem with playing out the fifth set of a tennis match until someone wins by two games, but this really should be reserved for the men’s finals. Period. Exclamation point. Just like the NFL has ruined a good thing by adding regular season overtime since 1974, Wimbledon has now spoiled the fifth set for all of us with this insanity during a first round match. A FIRST ROUND MATCH. Is it really necessary to put Isner and Mahut through all this just to get to the second round? Does anyone realize there are already players moving onto the THIRD ROUND while Isner and Mahut played their match over three days?
What would’ve happened if darkness came tonight in London and Isner and Mahut were still playing, perhaps knotted at 100-100? When do you draw the line and pull the plug on this marathon? When the first fortnight ends and everyone shuts down on Sunday?
And what were Wimbledon officials thinking by not moving this match to one of the lighted courts after Tuesday? Didn’t anyone have the foresight to envision things going beyond Wednesday? Neither player was losing serve. In fact, it wasn’t until the final game that anyone lost serve for who can remember. These guys were acing each other at a record pace. It was the baseball equivalent of Nolan Ryan pitching against his clone.
I admit, after a while it was fun to watch this match go on forever, but we need some mechanism for practicality. Could you imagine Wimbledon needing to extend the men’s play past the MLB All-Star Game because these guys are still playing game 1,000 of the fifth set? Don’t laugh; I honestly started wondering this scenario.
I think Wimbledon really should have some type of tiebreaker mechanism for the fifth set of early-round matches. If you don’t want the same type of tiebreaker used in the first four sets, then play to a certain point and then employ some type of “shoot-out” equivalent. Maybe have each player switch to one hand of poker or blackjack. Or maybe have them thumb wrestle. Or maybe have them guess a number between 1 and 1,000. Or maybe guess the number of dresses Queen Elizabeth owns. Or the circumference of Prince Charles’ ears. But don’t make these poor sods play 138 games before someone finally loses serve.
Speaking of poor sods, didn’t you start to envision Isner and Mahut playing to the death like the knight losing limb by limb in Monty Python and the Holy Grail? That crossed my mind last night while watching highlights of Part Deux of this odyssey.
But it was great tennis, nonetheless. After a match like this I don’t know how Isner sustains himself for the next round and beyond, and I’d hate to see later matches go long distance because you know the Isner-Mahut match will be the standard to compare with.
This leads me to one final criticism of the All-England tennis Club. Who in Heaven’s name was that official with the microphone turning the culmination of the match into a mini-circus? Yes, I thought it was nice to commemorate the historic match, but it seemed a tad overkill not to mention unfair to Mahut who looked like he really just wanted to drown himself in a whirlpool bath in the training room. Perhaps the point where this official should’ve stopped yakking was when he asked Mahut about the pressure he might’ve felt having to serve 65 times from behind during the fifth set. If you watched this exchange on ESPN take place like I did you really had to wonder how any athlete could or should bother answering moments after losing a contest.
Official - Tell me Nicolas, did you feel the pressure of having to serve 65 times from behind during that final set?
Mahut – Well, the first 64 weren’t so hard, but the last one finally broke me. By the way, did you know I have homicidal tendencies towards dopey Brits who ask dopey questions?
What’s Mahut supposed to say?! This is another good reason why some folks shouldn’t ask athletes questions. In fact, this ranks as silly a question as the one asked of Doug Williams on Media Day prior to Super Bowl XXI:
Reporter – Have you always been a black quarterback?
Williams (what he should’ve said) – I don’t rightly know, sir. I’ve been black since birth, and been chuckin’ the rock since before high school. So I reckon the answer lies somewhere between 1960 and 1970. Does that answer your question?
Why do people ask such questions? Because they don’t think before opening their mouths! Think about it for a second, if you write down your question and read it to yourself as if it’s asked of you, and you feel odd answering it, chances are good you shouldn’t ask it.
This leads me back to the USA’s World Cup victory over Algeria. As much as I’m not really into soccer, I’m very happy for soccer fans as well as those playing for the USA team. I think the victory is great for the sport and America, but please stop treating this like the sporting equivalent of D-Day. I was listening to ESPN Radio New York (1050 AM) yesterday afternoon and was stupefied by Michael Kay’s show and the discussion of how yesterday’s win ranked against other great sports moments. People were comparing this win to the 1980 Olympic USA hockey team’s win over the Soviets and Brent Boone’s winning home run for the Yankees in Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS. Give me a break. This win doesn’t rank anywhere with the greatest upsets in sports history and it sure as heck ranks as more meaningful than one of a multitude of trips to the World Series by the Yankees. Talk about the wackiest comparison of “apples to oranges.”
But what really ticked me off was caller after caller talking about how this win was a referendum for America as a nation, and Kay feeding off this. Feeling a little sense of national pride is one thing, but going on and on and on how a soccer match is some sort of symbol to remind us how the United States is the greatest country in the world, damned the rest of the folks who hate us. HELLO?! This is exactly why lots of other countries hate us! We get on talk radio shows and blather on and on about how we’re the best this or greatest that, and we forget there are plenty of other great nations and cities besides the USA and New York. Is it so terrible for us to accept the United States happens to be one of several pretty wonderful countries and New York happens to be one of several pretty wonderful cities? What Kay and his loyal callers consider national pride borders somewhat on jingoism and arrogance. Heck, the only thing missing was the Wagner music in the background!
In case you forgot, one of the key points from “The two Escobars” – Wednesday night’s ESPN documentary from their 30 for 30 series -- is that soccer players can get killed if their team loses in World Cup competition. My point is to enjoy the winning but keep things in perspective without getting carried away.
Moving along to other things I’m still trying to get my head around…
So, now Washington Redskins defensive tackle Albert Haynesworth is willing to report to training camp next month after staging his extended hissy fit and staying away from mini-camps? Gee, I’m touched. Hey, Fat Albert (I’ve always wanted to say that)… what’s the real reason why you’re making such a stink about playing in a 3-4 defense for head coach Mike Shanahan? Are you afraid your sack numbers will go down and hurt bids for the Pro Bowl? Perhaps lower sack numbers might hurt your position when you try to negotiate your next over-inflated contract? Perhaps you’re afraid Coach Shanahan will hold you more accountable than Jim Zorn did? Perhaps you’re afraid of taking on double teams since your famed head stomp move got punished a few years ago? Perhaps you’re just a big fat baby who’s happy collecting the paycheck without putting out on the field like you used to? It’s not like I’m among a small minority disgusted with you and your actions. Article after article’s been written about how selfish your teammates and other NFL peers feel about you. Heck, you were even called out a few months ago by Joe Namath on Twitter. If ol’ Joe is calling you a lazy freeloader after all the battering he took for 13 years as a quarterback, you know you’re lazy freeloader.
This brings me to Carolina Panthers wide receiver Steve Smith and his recently broken left arm, courtesy of playing flag football at his local YMCA. Do I have a problem with Smith playing flag football with some local guys? No, but I do have a problem with Smith playing flag football before training camp, especially when he’s returning from breaking his left arm and missing the last part of the 2009 season. Steve, what were you thinking, if at all? Steve, what is it about you and injuries? Not only have you demonstrated how fragile you are on the field, now we see you’re equally as fragile OFF the field. As much as you’re the Panthers’ best receiver, has it occurred to you that maybe you’re providing diminishing returns with each year you miss games for injuries, or punching a teammate’s lights out during training camp (Ken Lucas, broken nose and cheekbone, 2006)?
Am I crazy, or is it possible pitching perfect games isn’t necessarily such a good thing for pitchers? Have you noticed both Philadelphia’s Roy Halladay and Oakland’s Dallas Braden are recently on extended losing trends since their perfectos? I know a perfect game doesn’t get any better, but it’s a little surprising to see how much both have slid the past few weeks.
Has anyone looked at the MLB standings recently? Is anyone really that surprised the top three records all belong in the AL East with the Rays, Yankees, and Red Sox all breathing on each other’s neck? Think back to March, folks… weren’t most baseball experts predicting a three-horse race in what is arguably MLB’s best division? Oh, and I guess we now know the answer to the questions "are the Red Sox put together wrong?" and "Is Big Papi finished?"
Oh, and for those Yankee fans thinking this past weekend’s edition of the Subway Series reaffirms that the Yankees are indeed superior to the Mets, let me toss a little reality to you. First, the Yankees won 2 of 3 at their stadium just like the Mets did at Citi the month before. Only 10 of MLB’s 30 teams have a winning road record so far this season, so according to trend, the Yankees did what they were supposed to do and so did the Mets. The Mets may have recently fattened up on a 7-2 road trip by going 6-0 against Baltimore and Cleveland, but 10 of the Yankees’ 45 wins have come against the Orioles, so the Bronx Bombers certainly do their fair share of fattening up too.
Are the Yankees a better team than the Mets? Looking at the standings and team statistics, one could argue yes, but that’s what was expected before the season ever began. I think the question should be are the Mets playing as well as the Yankees, and the answer happens to be yes. The Yankees are 45-27. The Mets are 41-30. Both teams have almost identical home records; the Yankees play a little better on the road. But the Yankees recently struggled in Arizona despite winning 2 of 3. The fact is both teams are playing pretty good baseball right now, split the 6-game Subway Series this year, and are both in fun divisional races as summer begins. No matter who you root for, could you really ask for anything more heading into the last week of June?
Speaking of the Orioles, we’re now starting to see articles bringing attention to their woeful season record, reaching 50 losses before their 70th game. Three notable teams to achieve this dubious feat are the 1962 Mets, 1988 Orioles (they started 0-21), and 2003 Tigers. The ’88 Orioles finished 54-107. The ’03 Tigers finished 43-119.
But my Mets – True Blue since ’62 – started existence with a pathetic 40-120 record. Let me save all the experts, statisticians, and talking heads a lot of time and energy… no matter how bad the Orioles end up this season, NO ONE – repeat, NO ONE – will EVER, or could ever compare to those lovable bumbling Mets under the stewardship of Casey Stengel. The Orioles could lose 130 games and still never rank as the worst collection of players in MLB history. Why? Because the ’62 Mets were an expansion team of cast-offs, misfits, and any form of ragamuffin you could put on a lineup card. There was never an ounce of hope for that team and they never failed to put smiles on faces, giggles in hearts, and disbelief in shaking heads as they created new ways to lose, day after day, nights too.
Are the Orioles bad? Oh yes they are, but no matter how bad they may end up being in terms of losses, there’s no way their entry in the record book should EVER replace the ignominy of that very first Mets team. Take that, ELIAS!
I’m enjoying the success Washington Nationals phenomenon Stephen Strasburg’s having so far on the mound, but I also notice how reality is setting in and despite all his impressive stats, these aren’t necessarily translating to Nats wins. In four starts he now has a record on 2-1 with one no-decision. In his last two starts the Nats have hardly scored any runs. Just thought I’d mention this.
Lastly, let’s pause for a moment and think about the Florida Marlins firing manager Freddie Gonzalez two days ago. While the Marlins may be “struggling” or “underperforming”, I warned you all last month that this move could happen in the wake of Hanley Ramirez’s public hissy fit in response to Gonzalez benching him for lack of hustle. Ramirez openly questioned Gonzalez’s credibility as a manager, and no matter what Hall of Famers Tony Perez and Andre Dawson said to him as a means to set him straight, the damage was done and Gonzalez risked losing his players in a passive-aggressive revolt.
That being said, I also pointed out the last time this happened with the Marlins was 2003 when John Boles was also fired after players questioned his baseball pedigree and Jack McKeon took the helm. We all remember what happened next – the Marlins got hot and dangerous all the way to winning the World Series in six games over the Yankees. Now we hear Bobby Valentine took his name out of consideration for managing in Baltimore and now he’s at the top of the interview list in Miami. Call me crazy, but I do subscribe to Yogi Berra’s theory of déjà vu all over again, and if Bobby V takes his act to South Beach, don’t be shocked if the Marlins kick it into gear and race past the Braves, Mets, and Phillies.
Oh, and if Bobby V does take over in South Beach and the Marlins do win the NL East, there may not be a cap big enough for his head.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
NFL = They just NEVER FRIGGIN’ LEARN - Sports Thoughts for June 15, 2010
Remember The Wizard of Oz? Remember the scarecrow? Feel free to sing along with this updated ditty…
I’m football playin’ boy king,
But don’t think much on nothing,
‘cause I never use my brain. (and now the lilting flutes)
I can play for lots of money,
But must make more than you honey,
‘cause I don’t need any brain.
I am free to lose my temper,
Until the start of September,
‘cause I never use my brain. (flutes again)
I don’t know from accountability,
‘cause I have all this athletic ability,
And really, who needs a brain?
Is it just me, or are we perpetually hearing the same stories over and over again with NFL players, just with different names, faces, and teams? Ben Rothlisberger rapes young woman in Tahoe. Ben Rothlisberger rapes college girl in Georgia. Santonio Holmes throws drinking glass in face of woman in Miami bar. Antonio Cromartie is in doo-doo for multiple counts of back child support. Pacman Jones… well, what hasn’t Pacman Jones done?
Someone drives drunk. Someone’s busted with pot. Someone’s connected to an international performance enhancement drug ring. So-and-so isn’t happy with his contract. Wah, wah, wah… gimme, gimme, gimme, but please don’t punish or hate me.
Puleeeeze!!!!!!
Since this new week started, here’s a sample of what we’ve heard about NFL players:
My first story is about New York Jets superman cornerback, Darrelle Revis, unhappy with his current contract, and quite deservedly wishes to renegotiate it. Is he the best corner in the NFL? Of course he is! Does he deserve to be compensated accordingly? Of course he does! Are the New York Jets necessarily going to pay him more than the $15.1 Million Al Davis is paying Nnamdi Asomugha to play corner for the Oakland Raiders? NOOOOOOO, and nor should they.
This reminds me of this “logic” lesson our mothers used to give us when we did something questionable but defended ourselves by saying we weren’t the only ones doing it – If Johnny jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge, would you jump too?!
Just because Al Davis has lost all of his fiscal senses doesn’t mean Woody Johnson and Mike Tannenbaum need to follow suit. Al Davis runs the Oakland Raiders like he’s stuck in 1980 and still trying to beat Pete Rozelle and the all the other owners into submission for the AFL-NFL merger and not naming him league generalissimo, er, commissioner. He operates by his own rules and thinks he can still impact the league to follow his lead. Sorry, Al; you’re no longer a genius, but an old man who’s trying to play by outdated rules and logic.
Furthermore, even though the NFL is going into an uncapped season for 2010, who knows what economic winds will be blowing for 2011 if and when a new collective bargaining agreement is ever going to be finalized. Owners and general managers are rightfully concerned about the future, and so should the players. Why else would NFLPA Executive Director DeMaurice Smith advise players to start putting away money before the end of the 2010 season? Does he honestly anticipate a potential lockout being the only issue awaiting players in 2011?
A superb athlete, Revis is in the fourth year of a six-year deal he negotiated as a rookie, and is due to make a mere $1 Million for the 2010 season. However, the last two years of his contract are voidable at $20 Million assuming he’s met certain performance levels. Chances are very good he’s already met those levels or will meet those levels this season anyway. There is lots of money in his future. However, the question is what about now?
Why is now so important? Yes, being the best corner in the NFL making approximately $14 Million less than someone less talented and accomplished than you should trouble a player. But there’s also the fear of being here today, Leon tomorrow, as in Leon Washington. Washington serves as a cautionary tale for all young players that the NFL is a cruel business with very few guarantees in life. All players are one broken leg from losing their career, having a contract evaporate, or wearing another uniform a few thousand miles away. And rightfully so, Leon Washington’s 2009 season with the Jets must be influencing Revis’ mindset regarding contract negotiations.
For those who forgot, Washington didn’t think the Jets were offering him enough when he tried to negotiate a new contract prior to the 2009 season. Thinking he was worth more than the millions Mike Tannenbaum offered, Washington and his agent turned down the offer and took a chance with a lower number in his walk year, hoping a monster season in 2009 would translate to an open vault for 2010 and beyond. Unfortunately, Washington suffered a gruesome broken leg in the Oakland game and was lost for the season. Goodbye 2009, and goodbye open vault for 2010, assuming he could even fully recover from the injury. After much sniping through the media during the offseason, as Washington preferred to rehab his leg in Florida rather than Florham Park, the Jets tendered an offer to Washington but not with much warm fuzziness attached. Washington annoyed and alienated the Jets front office and coaching staff since before the 2009 season started, and ended up traded to Seattle for a low-round draft pick. If Leon Washington accepted the Jets’ offer prior to the 2009 season and hadn’t gotten too big a head from his highlights and statistics, chances are he might still be in Jets green and under a generous contract, even if he’s still rehabbing from that leg injury. Leon Washington is a Seattle Seahawk today because he cut his nose off despite his face negotiating with the Jets.
Was Mike Tannenbaum low-balling Washington last summer? Maybe yes. Maybe no. But Washington wasn’t a feature back, and Tannenbaum wasn’t trying to get Little Leon to work for minimum wage either. We’re still talking a salary in the millions here. But it wasn’t enough for Leon Washington and he rolled craps with his contract.
Darrelle Revis certainly deserves more than $1 Million for the 2010 season, and all indications are that the Jets agree and are offering much more than what Revis is slated to earn. But apparently this isn’t enough to Darrelle Revis, and he’s “insulted” by the offer. Insulted? Gee, remember when Big Vince Wolfork felt insulted when the Patriots were going to place the franchise player tag on him for $7 Million? $7 Million… Insulted. I don’t know about you guys, but I wish someone insulted me like that. Heck, I wish G-d in Heaven would come down and afflict me with such an insult. I’d take my bruised feelings and all that cash and start paying off all my bills in full. Yes sir, I could really use that kind of insult. Couldn’t you?
What is Revis so insulted about? It’s not enough money? Not enough of the money is guaranteed? He professes he wants to remain a Jet for the rest of his career, and the Jets certainly seem to want him to stay here the rest of his career. Why is he making more of a stink than he needs to? Why is he pulling antics like hinting he may or may not be in mini-camp, or that he needed to take a few practice plays off for feeling lightheaded, or that his hamstring felt tight. Do we really need another Pete Kendall fiasco again? Does Revis really want to risk being here today, Leon tomorrow, even if he’s healthy all season? Yes, Revis should be concerned about income and financial stability, and protection for his future and family if Heaven forbid he gets injured, but to play games with your teammates and coaches, not to mention the media, this is a great way to turn public opinion against you. Already some folks in the media wonder if Revis plays for the Jets or the name on the back of his jersey. As I said, you don’t cut your nose off despite your face when negotiating business with your owner and general manager. Healthy or not, incredibly productive or not, none of us are indispensable. We can all be here today, Leon tomorrow.
What I don’t understand is this – if Revis has $20 Million backloaded onto the value of his original contract, and he’s clearly worth more than $1 Million in salary, why can’t both sides compromise and use part of those $20 Million towards 2010 salary, and defer the remainder towards a new extension beginning in 2011? Furthermore, if Revis is so concerned about his future after his playing career ends, why isn’t he trying to negotiate a new contract that will give him a healthy but not outrageous salary for each year until he retires, then pay him a continuous salary in deferred payments afterwards, when he will really need the money? You think this is silly? Ask Mark McGwire about the salary he’s been collecting from the St. Louis Cardinals for all these years since his retirement. Ask Bobby Bonilla how he enjoys earning money from the Mets long after his days ended in Flushing after the 1993 season. The ego and desires of youth may not enjoy earning less than one wants while playing, but the body and mind feel less stressed and battered when money’s still coming in after you leave the field and cheers, especially if you’re not prepared to enter the real world and earn incomes like the rest of us working stiffs.
And, in a win-win situation for Revis and the Jets, all that deferred salary likely won’t count heavily against the team’s salary cap, if at all. The Jets aren’t forking out tens of millions of dollars in guaranteed money to a player who could possibly suffer a career-ending injury, the salary cap would not be threatened relative to the other 52 players on the roster, Revis would still earn all his money, albeit some of it spread out over many more years, he’d still have a very handsome salary as compensation for playing, his agents would still earn their commission, and no one will ever starve. Cold someone please explain to me why this isn’t a reasonable compromise?
Our next unhappy camper is Patriots guard Logan Mankins, about to balk at his $7 Million salary offer in New England. Just like Vince Wolfork, he’s insulted by the pittance and years of guaranteed financial security. On Twitter yesterday, Bob Glauber of Newsday noted how Mankins reminded him of former Knick Latrell Sprewell turning down a similar contract offer because “I have to feed my family.”
Well, if $7 Million ain’t enough to feed your family, this leads me to some very pointed questions:
1) How many family members do you have?
2) How much do they eat, so that $7 Million can’t meet your grocery bill?
3) What kind of food are you buying for $7 Million?
4) Is your kitchen stocked with stuff other than caviar and Grey Poupon?
5) Have you ever heard of clipping coupons from Sunday newspaper circulars?
6) Do you grocery shop at designer food stores?
7) Have you heard of Wal-Mart? COSTCO? Target?
8) Do you budget the number of times you eat out?
9) Have you ever heard of “buy one, get one free” specials?
10) Is anyone on a diet?
I don’t mean to be insensitive or crass, but my total grocery bill for one week, including non-food items (household products, paper goods, health and beauty products) generally averages $150. If I earned $7 Million per year and it all went to the grocery store, I would need to feed approximately 900 folks who eat just like me – fresh fruits, a salad for dinner, whole grains, and tofu. Heck, I bought fresh salmon and tuna this week because it's good for my neurological health, and felt guilty about spending the extra money.
This leads us to Jets center Nick Mangold, who is also, rightfully so, unhappy with his contract situation. Now in the last year of his rookie contract, he’d like to have a new one in place before the start of the 2010 season so he has more security and peace of mind. I don’t know what his salary is, but it clearly isn’t enough compared to his performance as an All-Pro, and he’s certainly more deserving of $7 Million than Logan Mankins is (at least Nick can verify his food purchases and eating habits, whether I agree with his love for KFC or not).
I like Nick. He’s a good kid, quiet, and thoughtful. He’s also a good sport, considering I tease him a tad too much via Twitter (thank goodness a 6’-4”, 300-LB kid has a decent sense of humor). Like Revis, he also hinted at maybe he would come to mini-camp this week, or maybe he wouldn’t. Thankfully he did and has pretty much kept his mouth regulated. But it’s not cool with me when players hold out or threaten a hold out. Do I understand this is sometimes a player’s only tactic for getting a new or improved contract? Yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s right, it doesn’t mean it’s smart, and it doesn’t mean it won’t backfire on you in this age of a wacked out economy.
My advice to Mangold, Revis, their agents, and Mike Tannenbaum is to put all of your heads together and think about how to negotiate contracts cooperatively, optimistically, and honestly. Put all your cards on the table and brainstorm how to make everyone’s cards help each other. It can’t be that complicated – Revis and Mangold both want and deserve better salaries and more security. Both want to remain Jets until their careers end, and both want a reciprocal commitment from the Jets. Mike Tannenbaum obviously wants Revis and Mangold to remain as cornerstones of the franchise for as many years as possible, but he also has a long-term vision for maintaining a stable 53-man roster for as many years as possible so the team can sustain winning, enjoy continued support from the fans, and make as much profit for Woody Johnson as well as the other 31 NFL team owners. Remember, what’s good for the Jets is good for the league’s revenue sharing, and what’s good for the league is also good for Revis, Mangold, and the other 1,694 players enjoying a roster spot in this league – now AND when they eventually leave the game and need further taking care of.
Wise players can no longer just think about now; they also need to think about later, as the body gets older and all that battering takes its toll in middle age. The NFL is making more and more effort – whether it’s enough is still subject to debate – to take care of yesteryear’s players in terms of pension benefits, disability benefits, and extended-life care. There’s no guarantee the television network goose will continue to lay golden eggs, just like there’s no guarantee the US economy will ever return to the wide-spread levels we enjoyed towards the end of Bill Clinton’s presidency. Salary and contract negotiations need to take on a broader perspective, because today’s players don’t really know for sure if the NFL will be able to take care of them 20-30 years from now with excess profits. Anything can happen in that many years, including another recession much worse than our current one. Today’s players need to think just a little more carefully about who will be providing funds for all those medical bills when they’re 40, 50, or 60. It’s quite possible those funds may need to come from themselves while they’re 25.
In the grand scheme, it’s all Monopoly money to average folks like us. Actors make $20 Million to make a movie, regardless of how many people pay to see it. Athletes make almost as much per season, depending on their sport. To put things in perspective, consider that if I made the Tampa Bay Buccaneers’ 1984 roster as a third-down back and special teams player, I would’ve earned $60,000. Did you count the zeroes? We’re talking thousands, folks, not millions – and that was an incredible amount of money to me, barely in my 20’s, barely out of college. Heck, I had worked as a quality control chemist for a pharmaceutical company on Long Island the year before and only earned $15,000! Think about it… I could’ve quadrupled my income and had a lot more fun in the process. Back then, all I cared about was having fun, playing ball, and saving as much money as I could for graduate school.
As we all know, John McKay wisely cut me and chased me off to graduate school and my masters degree. A year later, with my masters almost done, I took my first job as a high school science teacher and football coach. Yes sir… six periods in a classroom, teaching teenagers chemistry, physics, biology, and math, and coaching… for $10,800 per year! And I didn’t bring an agent into the principal’s office to negotiate. That was the starting salary. Take it or leave it. I needed the job and the teaching experience, so I took it. And two of my paychecks even bounced during that year of slave wages.
It took almost ten more years before I my salary was DOUBLE what I earned my first year of teaching, with a masters degree. It took another five years and completing my doctorate before my salary doubled again. It took another ten years before my salary doubled one last time. Yes, with a bachelors, masters, and doctoral degree, it took 25 years of teaching before my salary increased from $10,800 to $83,000. As you notice, the salaries still lack the number of zeroes our current professional athletes earn and are getting in snits over.
My point? These kids are making an awful lot of money playing sports instead of being part of the working stiff world where salaries are being frozen if not cut, and the national unemployment rate is still effectively double digits. Do you or I generally begrudge these kids their salaries? No, not really, but if they make too much stink over the money there will be a point where you and I aren’t going to be too sympathetic.
Last, but not least, is Tennessee Titans quarterback Vince Young and his “dust-up” caught on a security camera in a Dallas strip club. First, let me ask this – should the words “Dallas strip club” be a red flag to every NFL player as a place you shouldn’t be at? Come to think of it, why not simply follow the rule of thumb that any strip club, regardless of city, is NOT a smart place to be if you’re an NFL player?!
But I’ve never been one to brag that football players are categorically smart – if they are, there are certainly too many not doing smart things. Well, this week’s mental giant is Young. Without even commenting on his rookie Wonderlic test score, I’d honestly like to know what the hell he was thinking going all Mickey Rourke in a crowded hallway (I’m sure Roger Goodell is looking forward to Young’s explanation). Rumor has it that Young got all in a huff because someone ragged on his alma mater, the University of Texas.
Hey, Einstein (sorry for taking that name in vain)… this is NOT what the Beach Boys had in mind when they wrote and sang Be True to your School! Well, it’s nice to see how all that counseling the Titans got him last year is paying off…
But, what can we expect from twenty-something hotheads when they’re not on the field trying to kill each other for five or six months? It would be nice if these kids used better judgment and common sense, but as you and I both know, that requires using your brain.
I’m football playin’ boy king,
But don’t think much on nothing,
‘cause I never use my brain. (and now the lilting flutes)
I can play for lots of money,
But must make more than you honey,
‘cause I don’t need any brain.
I am free to lose my temper,
Until the start of September,
‘cause I never use my brain. (flutes again)
I don’t know from accountability,
‘cause I have all this athletic ability,
And really, who needs a brain?
Is it just me, or are we perpetually hearing the same stories over and over again with NFL players, just with different names, faces, and teams? Ben Rothlisberger rapes young woman in Tahoe. Ben Rothlisberger rapes college girl in Georgia. Santonio Holmes throws drinking glass in face of woman in Miami bar. Antonio Cromartie is in doo-doo for multiple counts of back child support. Pacman Jones… well, what hasn’t Pacman Jones done?
Someone drives drunk. Someone’s busted with pot. Someone’s connected to an international performance enhancement drug ring. So-and-so isn’t happy with his contract. Wah, wah, wah… gimme, gimme, gimme, but please don’t punish or hate me.
Puleeeeze!!!!!!
Since this new week started, here’s a sample of what we’ve heard about NFL players:
My first story is about New York Jets superman cornerback, Darrelle Revis, unhappy with his current contract, and quite deservedly wishes to renegotiate it. Is he the best corner in the NFL? Of course he is! Does he deserve to be compensated accordingly? Of course he does! Are the New York Jets necessarily going to pay him more than the $15.1 Million Al Davis is paying Nnamdi Asomugha to play corner for the Oakland Raiders? NOOOOOOO, and nor should they.
This reminds me of this “logic” lesson our mothers used to give us when we did something questionable but defended ourselves by saying we weren’t the only ones doing it – If Johnny jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge, would you jump too?!
Just because Al Davis has lost all of his fiscal senses doesn’t mean Woody Johnson and Mike Tannenbaum need to follow suit. Al Davis runs the Oakland Raiders like he’s stuck in 1980 and still trying to beat Pete Rozelle and the all the other owners into submission for the AFL-NFL merger and not naming him league generalissimo, er, commissioner. He operates by his own rules and thinks he can still impact the league to follow his lead. Sorry, Al; you’re no longer a genius, but an old man who’s trying to play by outdated rules and logic.
Furthermore, even though the NFL is going into an uncapped season for 2010, who knows what economic winds will be blowing for 2011 if and when a new collective bargaining agreement is ever going to be finalized. Owners and general managers are rightfully concerned about the future, and so should the players. Why else would NFLPA Executive Director DeMaurice Smith advise players to start putting away money before the end of the 2010 season? Does he honestly anticipate a potential lockout being the only issue awaiting players in 2011?
A superb athlete, Revis is in the fourth year of a six-year deal he negotiated as a rookie, and is due to make a mere $1 Million for the 2010 season. However, the last two years of his contract are voidable at $20 Million assuming he’s met certain performance levels. Chances are very good he’s already met those levels or will meet those levels this season anyway. There is lots of money in his future. However, the question is what about now?
Why is now so important? Yes, being the best corner in the NFL making approximately $14 Million less than someone less talented and accomplished than you should trouble a player. But there’s also the fear of being here today, Leon tomorrow, as in Leon Washington. Washington serves as a cautionary tale for all young players that the NFL is a cruel business with very few guarantees in life. All players are one broken leg from losing their career, having a contract evaporate, or wearing another uniform a few thousand miles away. And rightfully so, Leon Washington’s 2009 season with the Jets must be influencing Revis’ mindset regarding contract negotiations.
For those who forgot, Washington didn’t think the Jets were offering him enough when he tried to negotiate a new contract prior to the 2009 season. Thinking he was worth more than the millions Mike Tannenbaum offered, Washington and his agent turned down the offer and took a chance with a lower number in his walk year, hoping a monster season in 2009 would translate to an open vault for 2010 and beyond. Unfortunately, Washington suffered a gruesome broken leg in the Oakland game and was lost for the season. Goodbye 2009, and goodbye open vault for 2010, assuming he could even fully recover from the injury. After much sniping through the media during the offseason, as Washington preferred to rehab his leg in Florida rather than Florham Park, the Jets tendered an offer to Washington but not with much warm fuzziness attached. Washington annoyed and alienated the Jets front office and coaching staff since before the 2009 season started, and ended up traded to Seattle for a low-round draft pick. If Leon Washington accepted the Jets’ offer prior to the 2009 season and hadn’t gotten too big a head from his highlights and statistics, chances are he might still be in Jets green and under a generous contract, even if he’s still rehabbing from that leg injury. Leon Washington is a Seattle Seahawk today because he cut his nose off despite his face negotiating with the Jets.
Was Mike Tannenbaum low-balling Washington last summer? Maybe yes. Maybe no. But Washington wasn’t a feature back, and Tannenbaum wasn’t trying to get Little Leon to work for minimum wage either. We’re still talking a salary in the millions here. But it wasn’t enough for Leon Washington and he rolled craps with his contract.
Darrelle Revis certainly deserves more than $1 Million for the 2010 season, and all indications are that the Jets agree and are offering much more than what Revis is slated to earn. But apparently this isn’t enough to Darrelle Revis, and he’s “insulted” by the offer. Insulted? Gee, remember when Big Vince Wolfork felt insulted when the Patriots were going to place the franchise player tag on him for $7 Million? $7 Million… Insulted. I don’t know about you guys, but I wish someone insulted me like that. Heck, I wish G-d in Heaven would come down and afflict me with such an insult. I’d take my bruised feelings and all that cash and start paying off all my bills in full. Yes sir, I could really use that kind of insult. Couldn’t you?
What is Revis so insulted about? It’s not enough money? Not enough of the money is guaranteed? He professes he wants to remain a Jet for the rest of his career, and the Jets certainly seem to want him to stay here the rest of his career. Why is he making more of a stink than he needs to? Why is he pulling antics like hinting he may or may not be in mini-camp, or that he needed to take a few practice plays off for feeling lightheaded, or that his hamstring felt tight. Do we really need another Pete Kendall fiasco again? Does Revis really want to risk being here today, Leon tomorrow, even if he’s healthy all season? Yes, Revis should be concerned about income and financial stability, and protection for his future and family if Heaven forbid he gets injured, but to play games with your teammates and coaches, not to mention the media, this is a great way to turn public opinion against you. Already some folks in the media wonder if Revis plays for the Jets or the name on the back of his jersey. As I said, you don’t cut your nose off despite your face when negotiating business with your owner and general manager. Healthy or not, incredibly productive or not, none of us are indispensable. We can all be here today, Leon tomorrow.
What I don’t understand is this – if Revis has $20 Million backloaded onto the value of his original contract, and he’s clearly worth more than $1 Million in salary, why can’t both sides compromise and use part of those $20 Million towards 2010 salary, and defer the remainder towards a new extension beginning in 2011? Furthermore, if Revis is so concerned about his future after his playing career ends, why isn’t he trying to negotiate a new contract that will give him a healthy but not outrageous salary for each year until he retires, then pay him a continuous salary in deferred payments afterwards, when he will really need the money? You think this is silly? Ask Mark McGwire about the salary he’s been collecting from the St. Louis Cardinals for all these years since his retirement. Ask Bobby Bonilla how he enjoys earning money from the Mets long after his days ended in Flushing after the 1993 season. The ego and desires of youth may not enjoy earning less than one wants while playing, but the body and mind feel less stressed and battered when money’s still coming in after you leave the field and cheers, especially if you’re not prepared to enter the real world and earn incomes like the rest of us working stiffs.
And, in a win-win situation for Revis and the Jets, all that deferred salary likely won’t count heavily against the team’s salary cap, if at all. The Jets aren’t forking out tens of millions of dollars in guaranteed money to a player who could possibly suffer a career-ending injury, the salary cap would not be threatened relative to the other 52 players on the roster, Revis would still earn all his money, albeit some of it spread out over many more years, he’d still have a very handsome salary as compensation for playing, his agents would still earn their commission, and no one will ever starve. Cold someone please explain to me why this isn’t a reasonable compromise?
Our next unhappy camper is Patriots guard Logan Mankins, about to balk at his $7 Million salary offer in New England. Just like Vince Wolfork, he’s insulted by the pittance and years of guaranteed financial security. On Twitter yesterday, Bob Glauber of Newsday noted how Mankins reminded him of former Knick Latrell Sprewell turning down a similar contract offer because “I have to feed my family.”
Well, if $7 Million ain’t enough to feed your family, this leads me to some very pointed questions:
1) How many family members do you have?
2) How much do they eat, so that $7 Million can’t meet your grocery bill?
3) What kind of food are you buying for $7 Million?
4) Is your kitchen stocked with stuff other than caviar and Grey Poupon?
5) Have you ever heard of clipping coupons from Sunday newspaper circulars?
6) Do you grocery shop at designer food stores?
7) Have you heard of Wal-Mart? COSTCO? Target?
8) Do you budget the number of times you eat out?
9) Have you ever heard of “buy one, get one free” specials?
10) Is anyone on a diet?
I don’t mean to be insensitive or crass, but my total grocery bill for one week, including non-food items (household products, paper goods, health and beauty products) generally averages $150. If I earned $7 Million per year and it all went to the grocery store, I would need to feed approximately 900 folks who eat just like me – fresh fruits, a salad for dinner, whole grains, and tofu. Heck, I bought fresh salmon and tuna this week because it's good for my neurological health, and felt guilty about spending the extra money.
This leads us to Jets center Nick Mangold, who is also, rightfully so, unhappy with his contract situation. Now in the last year of his rookie contract, he’d like to have a new one in place before the start of the 2010 season so he has more security and peace of mind. I don’t know what his salary is, but it clearly isn’t enough compared to his performance as an All-Pro, and he’s certainly more deserving of $7 Million than Logan Mankins is (at least Nick can verify his food purchases and eating habits, whether I agree with his love for KFC or not).
I like Nick. He’s a good kid, quiet, and thoughtful. He’s also a good sport, considering I tease him a tad too much via Twitter (thank goodness a 6’-4”, 300-LB kid has a decent sense of humor). Like Revis, he also hinted at maybe he would come to mini-camp this week, or maybe he wouldn’t. Thankfully he did and has pretty much kept his mouth regulated. But it’s not cool with me when players hold out or threaten a hold out. Do I understand this is sometimes a player’s only tactic for getting a new or improved contract? Yes, but that doesn’t mean it’s right, it doesn’t mean it’s smart, and it doesn’t mean it won’t backfire on you in this age of a wacked out economy.
My advice to Mangold, Revis, their agents, and Mike Tannenbaum is to put all of your heads together and think about how to negotiate contracts cooperatively, optimistically, and honestly. Put all your cards on the table and brainstorm how to make everyone’s cards help each other. It can’t be that complicated – Revis and Mangold both want and deserve better salaries and more security. Both want to remain Jets until their careers end, and both want a reciprocal commitment from the Jets. Mike Tannenbaum obviously wants Revis and Mangold to remain as cornerstones of the franchise for as many years as possible, but he also has a long-term vision for maintaining a stable 53-man roster for as many years as possible so the team can sustain winning, enjoy continued support from the fans, and make as much profit for Woody Johnson as well as the other 31 NFL team owners. Remember, what’s good for the Jets is good for the league’s revenue sharing, and what’s good for the league is also good for Revis, Mangold, and the other 1,694 players enjoying a roster spot in this league – now AND when they eventually leave the game and need further taking care of.
Wise players can no longer just think about now; they also need to think about later, as the body gets older and all that battering takes its toll in middle age. The NFL is making more and more effort – whether it’s enough is still subject to debate – to take care of yesteryear’s players in terms of pension benefits, disability benefits, and extended-life care. There’s no guarantee the television network goose will continue to lay golden eggs, just like there’s no guarantee the US economy will ever return to the wide-spread levels we enjoyed towards the end of Bill Clinton’s presidency. Salary and contract negotiations need to take on a broader perspective, because today’s players don’t really know for sure if the NFL will be able to take care of them 20-30 years from now with excess profits. Anything can happen in that many years, including another recession much worse than our current one. Today’s players need to think just a little more carefully about who will be providing funds for all those medical bills when they’re 40, 50, or 60. It’s quite possible those funds may need to come from themselves while they’re 25.
In the grand scheme, it’s all Monopoly money to average folks like us. Actors make $20 Million to make a movie, regardless of how many people pay to see it. Athletes make almost as much per season, depending on their sport. To put things in perspective, consider that if I made the Tampa Bay Buccaneers’ 1984 roster as a third-down back and special teams player, I would’ve earned $60,000. Did you count the zeroes? We’re talking thousands, folks, not millions – and that was an incredible amount of money to me, barely in my 20’s, barely out of college. Heck, I had worked as a quality control chemist for a pharmaceutical company on Long Island the year before and only earned $15,000! Think about it… I could’ve quadrupled my income and had a lot more fun in the process. Back then, all I cared about was having fun, playing ball, and saving as much money as I could for graduate school.
As we all know, John McKay wisely cut me and chased me off to graduate school and my masters degree. A year later, with my masters almost done, I took my first job as a high school science teacher and football coach. Yes sir… six periods in a classroom, teaching teenagers chemistry, physics, biology, and math, and coaching… for $10,800 per year! And I didn’t bring an agent into the principal’s office to negotiate. That was the starting salary. Take it or leave it. I needed the job and the teaching experience, so I took it. And two of my paychecks even bounced during that year of slave wages.
It took almost ten more years before I my salary was DOUBLE what I earned my first year of teaching, with a masters degree. It took another five years and completing my doctorate before my salary doubled again. It took another ten years before my salary doubled one last time. Yes, with a bachelors, masters, and doctoral degree, it took 25 years of teaching before my salary increased from $10,800 to $83,000. As you notice, the salaries still lack the number of zeroes our current professional athletes earn and are getting in snits over.
My point? These kids are making an awful lot of money playing sports instead of being part of the working stiff world where salaries are being frozen if not cut, and the national unemployment rate is still effectively double digits. Do you or I generally begrudge these kids their salaries? No, not really, but if they make too much stink over the money there will be a point where you and I aren’t going to be too sympathetic.
Last, but not least, is Tennessee Titans quarterback Vince Young and his “dust-up” caught on a security camera in a Dallas strip club. First, let me ask this – should the words “Dallas strip club” be a red flag to every NFL player as a place you shouldn’t be at? Come to think of it, why not simply follow the rule of thumb that any strip club, regardless of city, is NOT a smart place to be if you’re an NFL player?!
But I’ve never been one to brag that football players are categorically smart – if they are, there are certainly too many not doing smart things. Well, this week’s mental giant is Young. Without even commenting on his rookie Wonderlic test score, I’d honestly like to know what the hell he was thinking going all Mickey Rourke in a crowded hallway (I’m sure Roger Goodell is looking forward to Young’s explanation). Rumor has it that Young got all in a huff because someone ragged on his alma mater, the University of Texas.
Hey, Einstein (sorry for taking that name in vain)… this is NOT what the Beach Boys had in mind when they wrote and sang Be True to your School! Well, it’s nice to see how all that counseling the Titans got him last year is paying off…
But, what can we expect from twenty-something hotheads when they’re not on the field trying to kill each other for five or six months? It would be nice if these kids used better judgment and common sense, but as you and I both know, that requires using your brain.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
You gotta believe there's no place like home -- Sports thoughts for June 9, 2010
While many of us might have been pre-occupied with the sparkling MLB debut of Washington Nationals' pitcher Stephen Strasburg or game 3 of the NBA final (it's a FINAL, ABC, not a FINALS), some of us kept an eye or ear on last night's Padres-Mets game at Citi Field.
The main story? Mets 2, Padres 1. 11 innings. Ike Davis homer to win the game. Mike Pelfrey pitched nine strong innings for a no-decision. Oh, and the Padres and Mets combined to go 0-17 with runners in scoring position. Some game, eh?
The REAL story? The Mets are truly amazin' when playing at home in Citi Field. Boy, what a difference a year makes! 23-9 so far, and if the Mets were just a tad better on the road than their 8-18 record (you gotta win some of these one-run games, guys) imagine the conversations we'd be having as summer is soon to begin. As it is, our Mets are truly showing us they're much better than the 2009 version and we could very well be witnessing something special as the pieces slowly fall into place.
Who would've thought our Mets could hit home runs at Citi? Who would've thought our pitching staff could give us night after night of gutsy performances, even with John Maine and Ollie Perez on the fritz? Who would've thought we'd see reasonable production from the middle of the batting order without Carlos (who? where? when is he supposed to be back?) Beltran? And who would've thought we'd get great offense and defense from the catching position by guys not named Molina?
More importantly, who would've expected our Mets would be 31-27 in early June, and Jerry Manuel and Omar Minaya still have reserved parking spaces?
Oh yeah, this could be a fun summer when everyone's back, healthy, and playing consistently.
You know how I know this could be a special summer? Last night as the 10th inning was winding down, I saw a tweet from the account of WFAN's Joe Benigno and Evan Roberts (sorry, but I don't exactly know which one does the actual tweeting), basically saying if the Mets don't score soon they don't know how much longer the bullpen can hold on and do the job. My response? The bullpen will hold on as long as it needs to. We're home. We'll be okay.
Yeah, I said that. I have so much confidence in our Mets this season that no game seems lost when playing at Citi. I see it. We saw it Sunday when they came back to complete a sweep of the Marlins. I feel it. This is the team that managed to win a 20-inning game in St. Louis back in April. Our Mets don't do these things, not on any consistent basis.
Think about it. They're not even playing their best and are four games above .500 and riding their second big winning streak at home so far this season. Citi may not be where David Wright fly balls come to die, where Met seasons come to die. Citi may be where other teams come to die. For a change, we now have a house of horrors for opponents, instead of the other way around (see Turner Field).
But I can't harp enough on trends, and here's the key trend to keep watching all summer - right now, the Mets have a better intradivisional record than anyone else in the NL East, including Atlanta and Philadelphia. I've said from almost the start of the season, if you want to be the king of your division you have to beat the teams in it. If you don't believe me, ask Rex Ryan how that 2-4 record within the AFC East bugs him after making it to the AFC championship game as a 5-seed instead of at least a 3-seed.
Repeat after me... to be the beast of the east, the Mets need to devour the Braves, Phillies, Marlins, and Nationals as often as they can, especially at home when the good vibes are rolling. Will the Mets necessarily be a .500 team on the road by season's end? Who knows, but I do know this... if they can play .500 against their NL East rivals and the better teams in the NL Central and Western divisions AND feast on teams like Baltimore and Cleveland when paying visits, the Mets will not be such an easy out if the stars are all aligned and they somehow make it into October baseball. My point? Don't worry too much about that 8-18 road record for the moment. See how the Mets do for the next 15-30 road games and draw updated conclusions.
Of course, I could be very wrong, and things could go very wrong over the next few weeks, but I'd rather be a cockeyed optimist and look forward to the games played between now and the All-Star Break. So when things seem iffy or gloomy as the night gets longer and the innings dwindle fewer, just keep your faith, click your heels three times and say no worries, we're at Citi.
The main story? Mets 2, Padres 1. 11 innings. Ike Davis homer to win the game. Mike Pelfrey pitched nine strong innings for a no-decision. Oh, and the Padres and Mets combined to go 0-17 with runners in scoring position. Some game, eh?
The REAL story? The Mets are truly amazin' when playing at home in Citi Field. Boy, what a difference a year makes! 23-9 so far, and if the Mets were just a tad better on the road than their 8-18 record (you gotta win some of these one-run games, guys) imagine the conversations we'd be having as summer is soon to begin. As it is, our Mets are truly showing us they're much better than the 2009 version and we could very well be witnessing something special as the pieces slowly fall into place.
Who would've thought our Mets could hit home runs at Citi? Who would've thought our pitching staff could give us night after night of gutsy performances, even with John Maine and Ollie Perez on the fritz? Who would've thought we'd see reasonable production from the middle of the batting order without Carlos (who? where? when is he supposed to be back?) Beltran? And who would've thought we'd get great offense and defense from the catching position by guys not named Molina?
More importantly, who would've expected our Mets would be 31-27 in early June, and Jerry Manuel and Omar Minaya still have reserved parking spaces?
Oh yeah, this could be a fun summer when everyone's back, healthy, and playing consistently.
You know how I know this could be a special summer? Last night as the 10th inning was winding down, I saw a tweet from the account of WFAN's Joe Benigno and Evan Roberts (sorry, but I don't exactly know which one does the actual tweeting), basically saying if the Mets don't score soon they don't know how much longer the bullpen can hold on and do the job. My response? The bullpen will hold on as long as it needs to. We're home. We'll be okay.
Yeah, I said that. I have so much confidence in our Mets this season that no game seems lost when playing at Citi. I see it. We saw it Sunday when they came back to complete a sweep of the Marlins. I feel it. This is the team that managed to win a 20-inning game in St. Louis back in April. Our Mets don't do these things, not on any consistent basis.
Think about it. They're not even playing their best and are four games above .500 and riding their second big winning streak at home so far this season. Citi may not be where David Wright fly balls come to die, where Met seasons come to die. Citi may be where other teams come to die. For a change, we now have a house of horrors for opponents, instead of the other way around (see Turner Field).
But I can't harp enough on trends, and here's the key trend to keep watching all summer - right now, the Mets have a better intradivisional record than anyone else in the NL East, including Atlanta and Philadelphia. I've said from almost the start of the season, if you want to be the king of your division you have to beat the teams in it. If you don't believe me, ask Rex Ryan how that 2-4 record within the AFC East bugs him after making it to the AFC championship game as a 5-seed instead of at least a 3-seed.
Repeat after me... to be the beast of the east, the Mets need to devour the Braves, Phillies, Marlins, and Nationals as often as they can, especially at home when the good vibes are rolling. Will the Mets necessarily be a .500 team on the road by season's end? Who knows, but I do know this... if they can play .500 against their NL East rivals and the better teams in the NL Central and Western divisions AND feast on teams like Baltimore and Cleveland when paying visits, the Mets will not be such an easy out if the stars are all aligned and they somehow make it into October baseball. My point? Don't worry too much about that 8-18 road record for the moment. See how the Mets do for the next 15-30 road games and draw updated conclusions.
Of course, I could be very wrong, and things could go very wrong over the next few weeks, but I'd rather be a cockeyed optimist and look forward to the games played between now and the All-Star Break. So when things seem iffy or gloomy as the night gets longer and the innings dwindle fewer, just keep your faith, click your heels three times and say no worries, we're at Citi.
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