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Thanks for your support.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Sports news registering on the Baloney Meter -- Sports Thoughts for June 20, 2011
Now that another month has gone by, I guess it’s time to write a new column and catch up with the sports world again. As you all know, I’ve moved to a new home which is shaping up nicely but it’s consumed so much of the energy I’d normally like to reserve for writing. So, from the comfort of my new digs in Union, let’s chat about recent and not-so-recent events.
First, as a promise to one of my loyal readers in Germany, Sabine G., I begin with the recently completed NBA Finals, or more specifically, the champion Dallas Mavericks and Sabine’s fellow countryperson, Dirk Nowitzki. Yes, like many folks, I rooted for the Mavericks to beat the Miami Heat, but unlike many, I rooted for the Mavericks as an honest-to-goodness pro-Mavericks supporter as opposed to a Heat (or more specifically LeBron James) hater. Don’t get me wrong... I have very little use for the Heat or Mr. James, not to mention Dwayne Wade or GM Pat Riley. On the other hand, I have a sliver of empathy and sympathy for head coach Eric Spoelstra and Chris Bosh because they seem to be genuinely sensitive guys with little phoniness. But my point is that as difficult as it is to like the Heat and their imported collection of stars, it was very easy to like the Mavericks and their merry band of players.
In case some of you don’t know... Actually I think most of you don’t... But we have a real live Dallas sports fan among us, one of my oldest and closest friends, Mark K. Mark happens to be a Texan by way of Liberia, and he’s the proud owner of his PhD from the University of Texas-Arlington prior to becoming a math professor at Montclair State University. Anyway, Mark takes his Cowboys and Mavericks very seriously, so I’ve always kept a soft spot for the Mavericks in the fifteen years Mark and I know each other. As for the Cowboys, well, the spot’s not so soft, but that’s for another story and column (sorry, Mark). Anyway, the point is that I was actually rooting for the Mavericks in these NBA Finals, rather than purely rooting against the Heat and LeBron.
Did I honestly think the Mavs would win? Not really. Like most folks, I somewhat expected the Heat to win this series in six games, just like they did in 2006. However, because I was rooting for the Mavs, I held onto the belief that anything was possible, and I had been telling anyone who engaged me in an NBA discussion that the Heat could be the 2011 version of those very talented and loaded Philadelphia 76ers teams of 1976-1984 (Julius Erving, George McGinnis, Lloyd B. Free, Doug Collins et al.) who lost in the 1977, 1980 and 1982 NBA Finals before winning in 1983, sweeping the Lakers to polish off a 12-1 postseason led by Moses Malone. The Sixers had so much talent and looked so dominant on paper, but they could never meld together enough to get over the hump during the first three NBA Finals. Just because the Heat looked and talked like the 1927 Yankees and rolled over the Celtics and Bulls en route to the NBA Finals didn’t mean they were an automatic lock for the title. When you’ve been alive for as long as some of us have been, you know sometimes the best team on paper doesn’t translate to being the champion. Need we remind ourselves about the 1954 Indians, 1960 Yankees, 1968 Colts, 1969 Orioles, 1988 Athletics, 1990 Bills and 2007 Patriots, teams who weren’t supposed to have any business losing a World Series or Super Bowl but did.
We can talk ad nauseum about the Heat blew fourth quarter leads, let Dallas stay in the series and then panicked when the make-or-break point was reached in game 5. We can talk about how LeBron gave up and came up short time after time after game 3. We can talk about how Eric Spoelstra got outcoached by Rick Carlisle, and how Spoelstra failed to stick with the game plan that got his team to the Finals. We can talk about how the Heat might’ve simply been fortunate to make it to the NBA Finals in the first season of a radically-changed roster that robbed them of legitimate bench depth. We can talk about how the Heat simply melted in the bright lights of the Finals.
But we should talk about how the Mavs with their eclectically put-together roster of Nowitzki, Jason Kidd and a bunch of other guys most casual fans would be hard-pressed to name stuck together, didn’t have massive ego issues to constantly massage, got better as games went into the final stretch, and bailed each other out when someone struggled (see Nowitzki’s sluggish first half game 6 performance). We should talk about how the Mavs simply enjoyed one helluva magic carpet ride that began with sweeping the Lakers during the Western Conference semi-finals. Most importantly, we should talk about how the Mavs were a team of characters with character, as opposed to the Heat being a team of characters who talked the talk but couldn’t walk the walk when it counted most.
Sure, Mavs owner Mark Cuban’s a habitual smart-aleck with a tad too much to say to and about NBA Commissioner David Stern, but there’s a boyish and roguish charm to him we could never really attach to George Steinbrenner during his reign of the Yankees and those seven World Series titles. Sure, Jason Kidd was considered too old, perhaps way past his window for winning it all after coming so close with the Nets a decade ago, perhaps dogged by his reputation of being a coach-killer.
And Nowitzki was seen as “too soft” to win a title in the trenches for big men, under the boards, in the paint, inside the three-point line. We’ve heard the knocks before in all sports when a player is associated with “finesse”, code word for lacking toughness, code word for lacking the heart of a champion. I think Nowitzki put those doubts to rest as he played complete games every night, not just standing at the arc ready to launch rainbows. Nowitzki played injured. Nowitzki played sick. Nowitzki played at less-than-full strength. Nowitzki played his heart out, played like a champion and more than deserved his MVP award.
It wasn’t pretty, but Dirk the Mavs did it. That’s the great thing about baseball, football, hockey and basketball: the scoreboard counts the real points, not style points. Lots of teams look pretty on their way towards failing to win it all, falling on their pedigrees as well as their faces when style and glamour aren’t enough to get the job done. Sports history has more than its share of ugly winners and mutt champions, and in some respects the Mavs were that scruffy mixed-breed that shocked all and won Best in Show.
And just like that scruffy lovable mutt, the Mavs celebrated by proverbially peeing on the expensive rug you forgot to Scotch guard. On one hand, Cuban offers to pay for a team parade in downtown Dallas, but then the multi-billionaire who spared no expense bringing a champion to Dallas tried to con his players into thinking championship rings were out of vogue. On one hand, Nowitzki just spent two months destroying all preconceived myths about his heart, toughness and “Euroness”, then someone allowed him to imitate Freddie Mercury and sing We are the Champions. For all the years folks joked about Nowitzki sounding like Ivan Drago from Rocky IV when he talked, Nowitzki’s singing has now made that image permanent folklore. But who cares? Nowitzki was having fun he more than earned. When you’re a mutt with a waggly tail, that piercing howl seems cute even if it was painful to listen to.
And this is what Dirk and the Mavs reminded us all in these NBA Finals: when you’re a true team, a team with character, you just go out there, do the best you can and have fun trying to win. Sure, Dirk and the Mavs were playing with house money in these NBA Finals. Sure, the pressure was all on the Heat. But the Heat put that pressure on themselves from their very first South Beach pep rally. The Heat already won a title in 2006. Miami fans were hardly long-suffering. LeBron didn’t promise to bring Miami fans out of darkness or give them anything overdue or eternally denied. LeBron came to South Beach to win himself multiple NBA titles and Miami fans would have the privilege of adoring him and his buddies as they collected their hardware of entitlement.
Does anyone recall any disingenuous pep rallies or declaration of promises by Dirk and the Mavs? No... Dirk’s been laying it on the line in Dallas for thirteen seasons, trying to win an NBA title for Mavs fans and the Dallas community. Dirk and the Mavs are part of the Dallas community. No matter how many self-promotions, photo-ops or pep rallies they have, LeBron, the Big Three and the entire Heat organization fail to be part of the Miami community.
The other night ESPN Radio’s Bob Valvano asked if folks’ hatred for LeBron James and the Heat through social media venues was a consequence of fans wanting to live vicariously through their sports heroes. While Valvano raises an interesting point I think we need to look to a different factor when it comes to real sports fans, not fans of celebrity. Yes, fans of celebrity likely do wish to live vicariously through their heroes, be they sports stars, actors or musical artists. But this adulation is also likely a reflection of celebrities who consider themselves singular entities. For example, look at all the Hanes underwear commercials with Michael Jordan. Seriously, is Jordan part of any community? Is he a part of Chicago anymore? Is he part of any town or city in North Carolina? Where exactly does Michael Jordan reside anymore, and why should we frankly care? Well, just like kids twenty years ago wanted to be like Mike as he endorsed McDonalds, Nike and Gatorade, now mid-life guys want to “be twins” with him according to how well their boxer briefs and tee shirts fit. Could you honestly imagine sitting next to His Airness on an airplane and wanting to discuss underwear?! No... I want to know how he feels about Scottie Pippen telling ESPN that LeBron could end up being a greater basketball player than the man he rode shotgun to en route to six NBA titles.
Regardless, Michael Jordan doesn’t appear to be a member of any community since he left the Bulls, not to mention his marriage, years ago. Guys like Michael Jordan reside on “Planet Me”, that far-off, groovy metropolis with lots of land and a hermitized mansion on top of a hill overlooking the Land of the Little People, or as LeBron might refer to it as the Land of People who will wake up tomorrow to the same personal problems they had today. The odds of us running into Michael Jordan or LeBron James in our local K-Mart or Target are as likely as us chatting it up about underwear in the first class section of an airplane. LeBron is no more a part of the Cleveland (or more specifically, Akron) or Miami communities as Jordan is of the Chicago or Charlotte communities. Cities like Chicago, Charlotte, Cleveland and Miami are simply places where teams are located, cities for celebrities like Jordan or LeBron to commute to from Planet Me and bestow honor to the regular masses who genuflect to them.
On the other hand, I can see walking through a store in Dallas and seeing Dirk Nowitzki shopping in there. If a seven-foot-tall NBA superstar is willing to look foolish singing very off-key in front of thousands at a victory parade, can’t you imagine running into this man in your local supermarket while he’s buying frozen pizza and a bag of salad? You sense Dirk lives among the fans and folks of Dallas and doesn’t commute down from Planet Me only when there’s a home game. Maybe this is why the affection between Dirk and Dallas has remained mutual for thirteen years in quest of a title, the very first title in Mavs history.
This is where I think the hatred continues to come from, as Valvano wonders, with regards to LeBron and his Heat mates. Jilted fans in Cleveland will always believe LeBron simply didn’t want to commute anymore from Planet Me to the Gund (now the Quicken Loans) Arena, and NBA fans around the country recognize the same thing since LeBron’s Decision eleven months ago. In due time, hard core NBA fans in Miami will start to wonder the same as LeBron commutes from Planet Me to American Airlines Arena and his favorite hot spots among the glitzy in South Beach. But how many city blocks along Collins Boulevard will that genuinely include? Will folks see LeBron buying ice cream at the local Publix? How many PTA events will he show up for at his sons’ local school? Will he ever be anyone’s neighbor during the remaining time of his contract? Just like Michael Jordan, LeBron is becoming a man without a true home. He may be from Akron but he’s no longer welcome by Cleveland. He may have taken his talents to South Beach but he’s hardly a Dade County local. Home will forever be Planet Me, because that’s how celebrities live life shaped by narcissism and phoniness.
On the other hand, despite his prior reputation for being a finesse player and his current reputation for being an awful singer, Dirk Nowitzki will likely remain an adopted son of Dallas and among its tallest locals for years to come, and that’s something real sports fans and real fans of teams can appreciate. Nowitzki wasn’t a mercenary looking to serve his personal agenda above the community and fan base; Nowitzki is one of those sports lifers we only read about in history books, guys who spend an entire career with one team and in one community, who wear their team logo on their sleeve wherever they go in public, because they’re part of the public community and their championship title is their community’s as well. Think about guys like Paul Pierce of the Celtics, or Cal Ripken Jr. of the Orioles, Tony Gwynn of the Padres, or John Elway of the Broncos. Can you even imagine the possibility of Derek Jeter finishing his hall of fame career for a team other than the Yankees? But listen to the chatter on New York sports radio. Because sports is just one big business, the unthinkable could happen and the Captain could be wearing something other than Yankee pinstripes. Some folks may consider this sacrilege but for as much as fans identify Jeter with the Yankees and five World Series rings, is Jeter really part of the New York City community beyond his Manhattan condo, commercial endorsements and the nightclub scene? Have you ever ran into Jeter in a local movie theatre, or at Whole Foods, or at a corner hot dog stand? Derek Jeter’s a celebrity who ventures within a limited radius outside of Planet Me. He’s as limited a part of the local New York community as Donald Trump. New York is their corporate headquarters.
Dirk Nowitzki reminds us of a time when sports heroes were part of the local community and our neighbors. Yes, I’m talking about a time decades ago when professional athletes were paid very modest salaries compared to the megabucks of today. Yes, I’m talking about a time when being a professional athlete was not the year-round occupation it is today. Maybe for many of today’s youth who can’t recall or imagine life before i-Phones, flash drives, flat-screen televisions or email it’s unfathomable for athletes not to be cultural celebrities to adore from afar, but for many of us who grew up before personal computers, cell phones and color television we do remember experiences or stories of our sports heroes living down the street, shopping in the same stores as our parents and their kids attending the same schools as we did. In today’s political world there are so many people eager to turn the clock back to an era when the American Dream was exclusionary, it’s heartwarming to see a professional sports team and athlete who reinforces the inclusiveness of the American Community through good deeds and hard work. Thank you, Dallas Mavericks and Dirk Nowitzki, for reminding sports fans of often-forgotten values about team work and consistent hustle. Thank you, Germany, for providing an athlete who appreciates being a positive bridge between American sports and American society.
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Speaking of European imports being positive bridges for American sports, kudos to 22-year-old U.S. Open champion, Irishman Rory McIlroy, for showing us that class and humility are possible for a young professional golfer while he’s running roughshod over the competition.
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Speaking of youth being served, how many of you are scratching your heads about the Florida Marlins hiring 80-year-old Jack McKeon to be their interim manager to replace Edwin Rodriguez, who suddenly resigned Sunday morning? Let’s not forget that McKeon was interim manager in 2003 and took the Marlins to the World Series title, and he was 72 then! Let’s also not forget that last year when the Marlins fired Freddy Gonzalez as manager, replacing him with Rodriguez, I warned that the Marlins could be a force if they dusted off McKeon and brought him back at 79.
But this year’s Marlins are in much worse shape than last year, and inflicting them on “Trader Jack” who got his first managerial job in 1973, years before any Marlins player was born, is in my mind a cruel form of elder abuse. The Marlins have lost 18 of their last 19 games, falling all the way into the NL East cellar, and Rodriguez simply jumped ship before it completely sunk or owner Jeffrey Loria fired him. But make no mistake: this “June Swoon” by the Marlins is all the players’ doing and they sabotaged Rodriguez just like they did to Gonzalez last year. Sure, the Marlins lost ace Josh Johnson for more than a month to arm woes, Chris Volstad and Javy Vazquez are statistically among the worst starters in the NL this season, and shortstop Hanley Ramirez is underachieving horribly at the plate, but everyday position players like Ramirez have been all mouth for too long without being able to back things up with performance or leadership. Let’s not forget it was Ramirez last year who lead a player revolt against Gonzalez, questioning his credibility as not having prior major league playing experience, and let’s not overlook that Gonzalez is doing a solid job guiding the second-place Atlanta Braves as the hand-picked successor to the retired Bobby Cox.
No, the problem is not, and never was at the managerial level. For all the talent the Marlins have, despite being in the bottom half of MLB payroll rankings, this is roster of too many talkers, incredible immaturity and essentially zero accountability. Maybe McKeon’s legacy and no-nonsense approach will provide the kick in the pants this team needs to straighten out with almost 90 games left in the season, but if Rodriguez, the players’ choice for manager last year, ran out the door after three weeks of stupefying losses, how long will it be before McKeon needs to be wheeled out of the dugout? The Yankees fired a 70-year-old Casey Stengel after the 1960 season because the Ol’ Perfesser used to sleep in the dugout during games, and the Yankees won the AL Pennant that season! Given the level of play and attitude on this Marlins roster, unless McKeon will be kicking asses or trading players, this summer could be his personal suicide pact.
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Speaking of youth not being served, how is it that 19-year-old Kyrie Irving warrants being the top pick by the Cavaliers in the upcoming NBA Draft after playing a grand total of ELEVEN games as a freshman last year for Duke University? Can we stop fooling ourselves and call the draft and the NBA-NCAA “One and Done” rule the mutual farces they are? If Cleveland fans eventually came to loathe LeBron James after seven years in a Cavs uniform, can you imagine the love fest we’ll see in 2018, assuming Mr. Irving manages to stay healthy enough to play that long for the Cavs?
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Speaking of the NCAA, could we stop all this hand wringing and apologizing on behalf of mercenary teenagers masquerading as student-athletes? As we’ve learned from things hitting the fan at Ohio State, there will always be:
1. college football players who have an outlandish sense of entitlement and opinion of self-worth,
2. idiot parents, educators, coaches and boosters who fill these kids’ heads with the idea that they can never do wrong and deserve every reward known to humanity just for the ability to play football, and
3. fools who seem to think paying these kids a salary (in addition to a full four-year scholarship many of these kids waste by not pursuing their education) will suddenly rectify the issue of kids and adults not knowing the difference between right and wrong.
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Speaking of the NBA Draft, was it really 25 years ago Sunday that Len Bias died from a cocaine overdose after being the top draft pick by the Celtics?
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I know we’re slowly coming up to July 4 weekend and the traditional mid-way point of the MLB season, but I still have no real feel for how these divisional races are shaping up. With the exception of the NL East, every division has a fairly tight race among the top three spots. Therefore, whether you attribute things to parity or mediocrity, it looks like we could be in for some exciting and volatile divisional races all summer. Yes, we see the usual suspects at or near the top of their divisions, such as the Yankees, Red Sox and Phillies, as well as the Rangers and Giants, but look at the number of small-to-middle level market teams still in the hunt: Tampa Bay, Toronto, Detroit, Cleveland, Seattle, Milwaukee, Cincinnati, Pittsburgh and Arizona. Even weakened teams with high payrolls like the Mets are hanging tough.
Even horrible starts can be overcome. The Red Sox started 0-6 and 2-10. Now they’re 43-28. The Mets started 5-13. Now they’re 35-37. The Twins were 17-36 coming into the month of June; now they’re 31-39. Already we’re seeing that this season could be a roller coaster like no other. As bad as the Red Sox, Mets and Twins started out, the Rangers and Indians were red hot through April. But injuries and the rhythms of a long season have brought both down to Earth and precariously in first place.
Now we’re going to see how the Cardinals can handle another dose of adversity. After losing pitching ace Adam Wainwright in spring training to elbow surgery the Cardinals managed to stay near the top of the NL Central. The newest member of the extended disabled list is first baseman and pending free agent Albert Pujols. Pujols suffered a fracture to his left forearm after a freak collision at first base Sunday during a 5-4 win over the Royals. Pujols will be lost for approximately six weeks. Manager Tony LaRussa has been a master of holding the Cards together through adversity and has so far done a solid job of managing this season. But losing Pujols for six weeks could hurt plenty in a division with
the Cards, Brewers, Reds and Pirates all within four games of each other. In the past, LaRussa’s Cards have been fortunate enough to survive a very weak division. Now the competition is slowly improving and maturing. Perhaps this year won’t be as lucky for the Cardinals.
Regardless, it’s wonderful to see so many teams in the hunt going into summer, giving local fans reason to keep attending games. In cities long-suppressed by economic woes, such as Cleveland, Detroit and Pittsburgh, it’s good to see baseball looking good in all three traditionally great baseball cities.
And, in case you haven’t noticed, there are some very good managing jobs being done so far by Clint Hurdle in Pittsburgh, Terry Collins with the Mets, Manny Acta in Cleveland and Jim Riggleman with the Nationals. Maybe none of these teams will ultimately have a winning season, much less make the post-season, but for now it’s good to see good baseball men getting the most out of teams we normally don’t mention in the same breath as the Yankees, Red Sox or Phillies.
Wouldn’t it be great if we got all the way to September and still didn’t know how these divisional races will shape up?!
Keep an eye on how Tigers starter Justin Verlander does the rest of this season. I predict we could see the first pitcher since Nolan Ryan in 1973 to throw two no-hitters during the same regular season. I love no-hitters, and love perfect games even more. Verlander could give us a few more special moments this season. He’s already tossed one no-no and came within five outs of a second, and we’re not even at the All-Star break yet.
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Last thought: Will somebody PLEASE instruct all former New York Giants football players to shut up, or at least stop using inappropriate historical references or hyperbole during interviews? First Tiki Barber keeps inserting foot in mouth with regards to his premature retirement in 2007, his personal problems since retirement, and now his pending return to football. Add in stupid comments from Amani Toomer and George Martin with regards to the current NFL lockout and CBA negotiations. Next we have Plaxico Burress, fresh from a two-year prison stay for accidently firing an illegal handgun in a New York nightclub, blaming everyone for his legal problems except himself. Now David Tyree, the man who made the most memorable catch in Super Bowl history when the Giants beat the Patriots three years ago, telling the New York Daily News that if New York State passes gay marriage legislation, “there will be anarchy.” Anarchy?! Really? REALLY?!
Obviously, Tyree feels religious doctrine, intolerance, fear and bigotry need to shape the civil rights of Americans. What’s Tyree afraid of if gay marriage becomes the law? Is he afraid there will be an exponential explosion in wedding registries for fondue pots, silly cake serving pieces no one really uses and applications for wedding licenses and divorces? Obviously he can’t be afraid of two human beings, regardless of gender or sexuality being able to love, live together and take care of each other the same way his kind of people do, can he? Tyree must be the voice of reason in a world gone mad, right? So clearly Tyree fears the madhouse Bloomingdales might become. That’s clearly what he means by “anarchy”, right? After all, if there’s one thing former New York Giants are known for, it’s using words in their correct context.
First, as a promise to one of my loyal readers in Germany, Sabine G., I begin with the recently completed NBA Finals, or more specifically, the champion Dallas Mavericks and Sabine’s fellow countryperson, Dirk Nowitzki. Yes, like many folks, I rooted for the Mavericks to beat the Miami Heat, but unlike many, I rooted for the Mavericks as an honest-to-goodness pro-Mavericks supporter as opposed to a Heat (or more specifically LeBron James) hater. Don’t get me wrong... I have very little use for the Heat or Mr. James, not to mention Dwayne Wade or GM Pat Riley. On the other hand, I have a sliver of empathy and sympathy for head coach Eric Spoelstra and Chris Bosh because they seem to be genuinely sensitive guys with little phoniness. But my point is that as difficult as it is to like the Heat and their imported collection of stars, it was very easy to like the Mavericks and their merry band of players.
In case some of you don’t know... Actually I think most of you don’t... But we have a real live Dallas sports fan among us, one of my oldest and closest friends, Mark K. Mark happens to be a Texan by way of Liberia, and he’s the proud owner of his PhD from the University of Texas-Arlington prior to becoming a math professor at Montclair State University. Anyway, Mark takes his Cowboys and Mavericks very seriously, so I’ve always kept a soft spot for the Mavericks in the fifteen years Mark and I know each other. As for the Cowboys, well, the spot’s not so soft, but that’s for another story and column (sorry, Mark). Anyway, the point is that I was actually rooting for the Mavericks in these NBA Finals, rather than purely rooting against the Heat and LeBron.
Did I honestly think the Mavs would win? Not really. Like most folks, I somewhat expected the Heat to win this series in six games, just like they did in 2006. However, because I was rooting for the Mavs, I held onto the belief that anything was possible, and I had been telling anyone who engaged me in an NBA discussion that the Heat could be the 2011 version of those very talented and loaded Philadelphia 76ers teams of 1976-1984 (Julius Erving, George McGinnis, Lloyd B. Free, Doug Collins et al.) who lost in the 1977, 1980 and 1982 NBA Finals before winning in 1983, sweeping the Lakers to polish off a 12-1 postseason led by Moses Malone. The Sixers had so much talent and looked so dominant on paper, but they could never meld together enough to get over the hump during the first three NBA Finals. Just because the Heat looked and talked like the 1927 Yankees and rolled over the Celtics and Bulls en route to the NBA Finals didn’t mean they were an automatic lock for the title. When you’ve been alive for as long as some of us have been, you know sometimes the best team on paper doesn’t translate to being the champion. Need we remind ourselves about the 1954 Indians, 1960 Yankees, 1968 Colts, 1969 Orioles, 1988 Athletics, 1990 Bills and 2007 Patriots, teams who weren’t supposed to have any business losing a World Series or Super Bowl but did.
We can talk ad nauseum about the Heat blew fourth quarter leads, let Dallas stay in the series and then panicked when the make-or-break point was reached in game 5. We can talk about how LeBron gave up and came up short time after time after game 3. We can talk about how Eric Spoelstra got outcoached by Rick Carlisle, and how Spoelstra failed to stick with the game plan that got his team to the Finals. We can talk about how the Heat might’ve simply been fortunate to make it to the NBA Finals in the first season of a radically-changed roster that robbed them of legitimate bench depth. We can talk about how the Heat simply melted in the bright lights of the Finals.
But we should talk about how the Mavs with their eclectically put-together roster of Nowitzki, Jason Kidd and a bunch of other guys most casual fans would be hard-pressed to name stuck together, didn’t have massive ego issues to constantly massage, got better as games went into the final stretch, and bailed each other out when someone struggled (see Nowitzki’s sluggish first half game 6 performance). We should talk about how the Mavs simply enjoyed one helluva magic carpet ride that began with sweeping the Lakers during the Western Conference semi-finals. Most importantly, we should talk about how the Mavs were a team of characters with character, as opposed to the Heat being a team of characters who talked the talk but couldn’t walk the walk when it counted most.
Sure, Mavs owner Mark Cuban’s a habitual smart-aleck with a tad too much to say to and about NBA Commissioner David Stern, but there’s a boyish and roguish charm to him we could never really attach to George Steinbrenner during his reign of the Yankees and those seven World Series titles. Sure, Jason Kidd was considered too old, perhaps way past his window for winning it all after coming so close with the Nets a decade ago, perhaps dogged by his reputation of being a coach-killer.
And Nowitzki was seen as “too soft” to win a title in the trenches for big men, under the boards, in the paint, inside the three-point line. We’ve heard the knocks before in all sports when a player is associated with “finesse”, code word for lacking toughness, code word for lacking the heart of a champion. I think Nowitzki put those doubts to rest as he played complete games every night, not just standing at the arc ready to launch rainbows. Nowitzki played injured. Nowitzki played sick. Nowitzki played at less-than-full strength. Nowitzki played his heart out, played like a champion and more than deserved his MVP award.
It wasn’t pretty, but Dirk the Mavs did it. That’s the great thing about baseball, football, hockey and basketball: the scoreboard counts the real points, not style points. Lots of teams look pretty on their way towards failing to win it all, falling on their pedigrees as well as their faces when style and glamour aren’t enough to get the job done. Sports history has more than its share of ugly winners and mutt champions, and in some respects the Mavs were that scruffy mixed-breed that shocked all and won Best in Show.
And just like that scruffy lovable mutt, the Mavs celebrated by proverbially peeing on the expensive rug you forgot to Scotch guard. On one hand, Cuban offers to pay for a team parade in downtown Dallas, but then the multi-billionaire who spared no expense bringing a champion to Dallas tried to con his players into thinking championship rings were out of vogue. On one hand, Nowitzki just spent two months destroying all preconceived myths about his heart, toughness and “Euroness”, then someone allowed him to imitate Freddie Mercury and sing We are the Champions. For all the years folks joked about Nowitzki sounding like Ivan Drago from Rocky IV when he talked, Nowitzki’s singing has now made that image permanent folklore. But who cares? Nowitzki was having fun he more than earned. When you’re a mutt with a waggly tail, that piercing howl seems cute even if it was painful to listen to.
And this is what Dirk and the Mavs reminded us all in these NBA Finals: when you’re a true team, a team with character, you just go out there, do the best you can and have fun trying to win. Sure, Dirk and the Mavs were playing with house money in these NBA Finals. Sure, the pressure was all on the Heat. But the Heat put that pressure on themselves from their very first South Beach pep rally. The Heat already won a title in 2006. Miami fans were hardly long-suffering. LeBron didn’t promise to bring Miami fans out of darkness or give them anything overdue or eternally denied. LeBron came to South Beach to win himself multiple NBA titles and Miami fans would have the privilege of adoring him and his buddies as they collected their hardware of entitlement.
Does anyone recall any disingenuous pep rallies or declaration of promises by Dirk and the Mavs? No... Dirk’s been laying it on the line in Dallas for thirteen seasons, trying to win an NBA title for Mavs fans and the Dallas community. Dirk and the Mavs are part of the Dallas community. No matter how many self-promotions, photo-ops or pep rallies they have, LeBron, the Big Three and the entire Heat organization fail to be part of the Miami community.
The other night ESPN Radio’s Bob Valvano asked if folks’ hatred for LeBron James and the Heat through social media venues was a consequence of fans wanting to live vicariously through their sports heroes. While Valvano raises an interesting point I think we need to look to a different factor when it comes to real sports fans, not fans of celebrity. Yes, fans of celebrity likely do wish to live vicariously through their heroes, be they sports stars, actors or musical artists. But this adulation is also likely a reflection of celebrities who consider themselves singular entities. For example, look at all the Hanes underwear commercials with Michael Jordan. Seriously, is Jordan part of any community? Is he a part of Chicago anymore? Is he part of any town or city in North Carolina? Where exactly does Michael Jordan reside anymore, and why should we frankly care? Well, just like kids twenty years ago wanted to be like Mike as he endorsed McDonalds, Nike and Gatorade, now mid-life guys want to “be twins” with him according to how well their boxer briefs and tee shirts fit. Could you honestly imagine sitting next to His Airness on an airplane and wanting to discuss underwear?! No... I want to know how he feels about Scottie Pippen telling ESPN that LeBron could end up being a greater basketball player than the man he rode shotgun to en route to six NBA titles.
Regardless, Michael Jordan doesn’t appear to be a member of any community since he left the Bulls, not to mention his marriage, years ago. Guys like Michael Jordan reside on “Planet Me”, that far-off, groovy metropolis with lots of land and a hermitized mansion on top of a hill overlooking the Land of the Little People, or as LeBron might refer to it as the Land of People who will wake up tomorrow to the same personal problems they had today. The odds of us running into Michael Jordan or LeBron James in our local K-Mart or Target are as likely as us chatting it up about underwear in the first class section of an airplane. LeBron is no more a part of the Cleveland (or more specifically, Akron) or Miami communities as Jordan is of the Chicago or Charlotte communities. Cities like Chicago, Charlotte, Cleveland and Miami are simply places where teams are located, cities for celebrities like Jordan or LeBron to commute to from Planet Me and bestow honor to the regular masses who genuflect to them.
On the other hand, I can see walking through a store in Dallas and seeing Dirk Nowitzki shopping in there. If a seven-foot-tall NBA superstar is willing to look foolish singing very off-key in front of thousands at a victory parade, can’t you imagine running into this man in your local supermarket while he’s buying frozen pizza and a bag of salad? You sense Dirk lives among the fans and folks of Dallas and doesn’t commute down from Planet Me only when there’s a home game. Maybe this is why the affection between Dirk and Dallas has remained mutual for thirteen years in quest of a title, the very first title in Mavs history.
This is where I think the hatred continues to come from, as Valvano wonders, with regards to LeBron and his Heat mates. Jilted fans in Cleveland will always believe LeBron simply didn’t want to commute anymore from Planet Me to the Gund (now the Quicken Loans) Arena, and NBA fans around the country recognize the same thing since LeBron’s Decision eleven months ago. In due time, hard core NBA fans in Miami will start to wonder the same as LeBron commutes from Planet Me to American Airlines Arena and his favorite hot spots among the glitzy in South Beach. But how many city blocks along Collins Boulevard will that genuinely include? Will folks see LeBron buying ice cream at the local Publix? How many PTA events will he show up for at his sons’ local school? Will he ever be anyone’s neighbor during the remaining time of his contract? Just like Michael Jordan, LeBron is becoming a man without a true home. He may be from Akron but he’s no longer welcome by Cleveland. He may have taken his talents to South Beach but he’s hardly a Dade County local. Home will forever be Planet Me, because that’s how celebrities live life shaped by narcissism and phoniness.
On the other hand, despite his prior reputation for being a finesse player and his current reputation for being an awful singer, Dirk Nowitzki will likely remain an adopted son of Dallas and among its tallest locals for years to come, and that’s something real sports fans and real fans of teams can appreciate. Nowitzki wasn’t a mercenary looking to serve his personal agenda above the community and fan base; Nowitzki is one of those sports lifers we only read about in history books, guys who spend an entire career with one team and in one community, who wear their team logo on their sleeve wherever they go in public, because they’re part of the public community and their championship title is their community’s as well. Think about guys like Paul Pierce of the Celtics, or Cal Ripken Jr. of the Orioles, Tony Gwynn of the Padres, or John Elway of the Broncos. Can you even imagine the possibility of Derek Jeter finishing his hall of fame career for a team other than the Yankees? But listen to the chatter on New York sports radio. Because sports is just one big business, the unthinkable could happen and the Captain could be wearing something other than Yankee pinstripes. Some folks may consider this sacrilege but for as much as fans identify Jeter with the Yankees and five World Series rings, is Jeter really part of the New York City community beyond his Manhattan condo, commercial endorsements and the nightclub scene? Have you ever ran into Jeter in a local movie theatre, or at Whole Foods, or at a corner hot dog stand? Derek Jeter’s a celebrity who ventures within a limited radius outside of Planet Me. He’s as limited a part of the local New York community as Donald Trump. New York is their corporate headquarters.
Dirk Nowitzki reminds us of a time when sports heroes were part of the local community and our neighbors. Yes, I’m talking about a time decades ago when professional athletes were paid very modest salaries compared to the megabucks of today. Yes, I’m talking about a time when being a professional athlete was not the year-round occupation it is today. Maybe for many of today’s youth who can’t recall or imagine life before i-Phones, flash drives, flat-screen televisions or email it’s unfathomable for athletes not to be cultural celebrities to adore from afar, but for many of us who grew up before personal computers, cell phones and color television we do remember experiences or stories of our sports heroes living down the street, shopping in the same stores as our parents and their kids attending the same schools as we did. In today’s political world there are so many people eager to turn the clock back to an era when the American Dream was exclusionary, it’s heartwarming to see a professional sports team and athlete who reinforces the inclusiveness of the American Community through good deeds and hard work. Thank you, Dallas Mavericks and Dirk Nowitzki, for reminding sports fans of often-forgotten values about team work and consistent hustle. Thank you, Germany, for providing an athlete who appreciates being a positive bridge between American sports and American society.
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Speaking of European imports being positive bridges for American sports, kudos to 22-year-old U.S. Open champion, Irishman Rory McIlroy, for showing us that class and humility are possible for a young professional golfer while he’s running roughshod over the competition.
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Speaking of youth being served, how many of you are scratching your heads about the Florida Marlins hiring 80-year-old Jack McKeon to be their interim manager to replace Edwin Rodriguez, who suddenly resigned Sunday morning? Let’s not forget that McKeon was interim manager in 2003 and took the Marlins to the World Series title, and he was 72 then! Let’s also not forget that last year when the Marlins fired Freddy Gonzalez as manager, replacing him with Rodriguez, I warned that the Marlins could be a force if they dusted off McKeon and brought him back at 79.
But this year’s Marlins are in much worse shape than last year, and inflicting them on “Trader Jack” who got his first managerial job in 1973, years before any Marlins player was born, is in my mind a cruel form of elder abuse. The Marlins have lost 18 of their last 19 games, falling all the way into the NL East cellar, and Rodriguez simply jumped ship before it completely sunk or owner Jeffrey Loria fired him. But make no mistake: this “June Swoon” by the Marlins is all the players’ doing and they sabotaged Rodriguez just like they did to Gonzalez last year. Sure, the Marlins lost ace Josh Johnson for more than a month to arm woes, Chris Volstad and Javy Vazquez are statistically among the worst starters in the NL this season, and shortstop Hanley Ramirez is underachieving horribly at the plate, but everyday position players like Ramirez have been all mouth for too long without being able to back things up with performance or leadership. Let’s not forget it was Ramirez last year who lead a player revolt against Gonzalez, questioning his credibility as not having prior major league playing experience, and let’s not overlook that Gonzalez is doing a solid job guiding the second-place Atlanta Braves as the hand-picked successor to the retired Bobby Cox.
No, the problem is not, and never was at the managerial level. For all the talent the Marlins have, despite being in the bottom half of MLB payroll rankings, this is roster of too many talkers, incredible immaturity and essentially zero accountability. Maybe McKeon’s legacy and no-nonsense approach will provide the kick in the pants this team needs to straighten out with almost 90 games left in the season, but if Rodriguez, the players’ choice for manager last year, ran out the door after three weeks of stupefying losses, how long will it be before McKeon needs to be wheeled out of the dugout? The Yankees fired a 70-year-old Casey Stengel after the 1960 season because the Ol’ Perfesser used to sleep in the dugout during games, and the Yankees won the AL Pennant that season! Given the level of play and attitude on this Marlins roster, unless McKeon will be kicking asses or trading players, this summer could be his personal suicide pact.
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Speaking of youth not being served, how is it that 19-year-old Kyrie Irving warrants being the top pick by the Cavaliers in the upcoming NBA Draft after playing a grand total of ELEVEN games as a freshman last year for Duke University? Can we stop fooling ourselves and call the draft and the NBA-NCAA “One and Done” rule the mutual farces they are? If Cleveland fans eventually came to loathe LeBron James after seven years in a Cavs uniform, can you imagine the love fest we’ll see in 2018, assuming Mr. Irving manages to stay healthy enough to play that long for the Cavs?
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Speaking of the NCAA, could we stop all this hand wringing and apologizing on behalf of mercenary teenagers masquerading as student-athletes? As we’ve learned from things hitting the fan at Ohio State, there will always be:
1. college football players who have an outlandish sense of entitlement and opinion of self-worth,
2. idiot parents, educators, coaches and boosters who fill these kids’ heads with the idea that they can never do wrong and deserve every reward known to humanity just for the ability to play football, and
3. fools who seem to think paying these kids a salary (in addition to a full four-year scholarship many of these kids waste by not pursuing their education) will suddenly rectify the issue of kids and adults not knowing the difference between right and wrong.
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Speaking of the NBA Draft, was it really 25 years ago Sunday that Len Bias died from a cocaine overdose after being the top draft pick by the Celtics?
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I know we’re slowly coming up to July 4 weekend and the traditional mid-way point of the MLB season, but I still have no real feel for how these divisional races are shaping up. With the exception of the NL East, every division has a fairly tight race among the top three spots. Therefore, whether you attribute things to parity or mediocrity, it looks like we could be in for some exciting and volatile divisional races all summer. Yes, we see the usual suspects at or near the top of their divisions, such as the Yankees, Red Sox and Phillies, as well as the Rangers and Giants, but look at the number of small-to-middle level market teams still in the hunt: Tampa Bay, Toronto, Detroit, Cleveland, Seattle, Milwaukee, Cincinnati, Pittsburgh and Arizona. Even weakened teams with high payrolls like the Mets are hanging tough.
Even horrible starts can be overcome. The Red Sox started 0-6 and 2-10. Now they’re 43-28. The Mets started 5-13. Now they’re 35-37. The Twins were 17-36 coming into the month of June; now they’re 31-39. Already we’re seeing that this season could be a roller coaster like no other. As bad as the Red Sox, Mets and Twins started out, the Rangers and Indians were red hot through April. But injuries and the rhythms of a long season have brought both down to Earth and precariously in first place.
Now we’re going to see how the Cardinals can handle another dose of adversity. After losing pitching ace Adam Wainwright in spring training to elbow surgery the Cardinals managed to stay near the top of the NL Central. The newest member of the extended disabled list is first baseman and pending free agent Albert Pujols. Pujols suffered a fracture to his left forearm after a freak collision at first base Sunday during a 5-4 win over the Royals. Pujols will be lost for approximately six weeks. Manager Tony LaRussa has been a master of holding the Cards together through adversity and has so far done a solid job of managing this season. But losing Pujols for six weeks could hurt plenty in a division with
the Cards, Brewers, Reds and Pirates all within four games of each other. In the past, LaRussa’s Cards have been fortunate enough to survive a very weak division. Now the competition is slowly improving and maturing. Perhaps this year won’t be as lucky for the Cardinals.
Regardless, it’s wonderful to see so many teams in the hunt going into summer, giving local fans reason to keep attending games. In cities long-suppressed by economic woes, such as Cleveland, Detroit and Pittsburgh, it’s good to see baseball looking good in all three traditionally great baseball cities.
And, in case you haven’t noticed, there are some very good managing jobs being done so far by Clint Hurdle in Pittsburgh, Terry Collins with the Mets, Manny Acta in Cleveland and Jim Riggleman with the Nationals. Maybe none of these teams will ultimately have a winning season, much less make the post-season, but for now it’s good to see good baseball men getting the most out of teams we normally don’t mention in the same breath as the Yankees, Red Sox or Phillies.
Wouldn’t it be great if we got all the way to September and still didn’t know how these divisional races will shape up?!
Keep an eye on how Tigers starter Justin Verlander does the rest of this season. I predict we could see the first pitcher since Nolan Ryan in 1973 to throw two no-hitters during the same regular season. I love no-hitters, and love perfect games even more. Verlander could give us a few more special moments this season. He’s already tossed one no-no and came within five outs of a second, and we’re not even at the All-Star break yet.
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Last thought: Will somebody PLEASE instruct all former New York Giants football players to shut up, or at least stop using inappropriate historical references or hyperbole during interviews? First Tiki Barber keeps inserting foot in mouth with regards to his premature retirement in 2007, his personal problems since retirement, and now his pending return to football. Add in stupid comments from Amani Toomer and George Martin with regards to the current NFL lockout and CBA negotiations. Next we have Plaxico Burress, fresh from a two-year prison stay for accidently firing an illegal handgun in a New York nightclub, blaming everyone for his legal problems except himself. Now David Tyree, the man who made the most memorable catch in Super Bowl history when the Giants beat the Patriots three years ago, telling the New York Daily News that if New York State passes gay marriage legislation, “there will be anarchy.” Anarchy?! Really? REALLY?!
Obviously, Tyree feels religious doctrine, intolerance, fear and bigotry need to shape the civil rights of Americans. What’s Tyree afraid of if gay marriage becomes the law? Is he afraid there will be an exponential explosion in wedding registries for fondue pots, silly cake serving pieces no one really uses and applications for wedding licenses and divorces? Obviously he can’t be afraid of two human beings, regardless of gender or sexuality being able to love, live together and take care of each other the same way his kind of people do, can he? Tyree must be the voice of reason in a world gone mad, right? So clearly Tyree fears the madhouse Bloomingdales might become. That’s clearly what he means by “anarchy”, right? After all, if there’s one thing former New York Giants are known for, it’s using words in their correct context.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Fighting to Live or Fighting for Legacy? -- Sports Thoughts for May 24, 2011
The recent news that Lance Armstrong has been “sold out” by some of his fellow Tour de France racing buddies returns us to the nasty topic of performance enhancing drugs (PEDs), integrity of competition, and whether the United States government has a continued obligation to hold athletes who dope accountable. Like many of you, I watched Sunday night’s “60 Minutes” interview with Tyler Hamilton. I don’t know how any of you felt, but I had some issues with Hamilton’s appearance and credibility while interviewed by Scott Pelley. Then again, I have some issues with the credibility of all of these cyclists when it comes to PEDs, testing and legitimacy of the sport. In my mind, they all used PEDs, whether it’s steroids or Erythropoietin (EPO). In my mind, they all doped and cheated for an unfair competitive edge. In my mind, they deliberately compromised their long-term health for short-term rewards in fame and riches. In my mind, no matter how many times former and current associates make or deny allegations, Lance Armstrong is among the guilty. No matter how many public protestations and “clean” urine or blood tests he claims, Lance Armstrong is no cleaner than any of the rest of these guys.
Isn’t it funny how Armstrong continuously boasts about how many tests he’s come up “clean” -- or never been caught? First, as someone who’s been involved in several litigations over the past few years, I can tell you that there’s a very subtle yet distinct difference between “innocent” and “not guilty.” We obviously learned about this difference back to the O.J. Simpson murder and wrongful death trials, so it shouldn’t shock any of you to hear me say that “not guilty” simply means someone’s lucky enough to have an attorney slick enough to find enough loopholes and technicalities within our judicial system to help a client get away with something. If you’re “innocent” that means you’re clean and didn’t do anything you’ve been charged with. But defendants don’t plead “innocent” in a court of law; they plead “not guilty.” It’s sort of like those old James Cagney films where his gangster (NOT gangsta) characters would declare, you ain’t got nothing on me!
The more we listen to Lance Armstrong defend himself against these pinheads willing to help serve him to the feds, the more I hear Jimmy Cagney’s voice and defiance towards anyone and everyone who thought they were going to get him in the movie. Like Al Capone, no one seems to be able to find enough evidence to make guilt stick on Armstrong, but just like that little tax evasion thing, you sense Armstrong’s gonna get it in the end. Somehow we expect one little thing to finally trip him up and expose him for using EPO and other PEDs, not to mention shedding light on how no single urine or blood test by anti-doping professionals exists with the proof needed to verify his cheating mindset.
This being all said, I now wish to come to the debate from a completely different reference point, that of a former football player, an academically trained scientist with biomedical research experience, and a two-time cancer survivor. Yesterday evening I joined into a Twitter debate and said, “Cheating wrong, period. Cheating worse for cancer patient. Cheapens the recovery. Misguided priorities.” Naturally, my tweet raised eyebrows and disagreement, which I was perfectly fine with. However, when you share thoughts 140 characters at a time, you need to expand and contextualize your words. My main point is that any use of PEDs is wrong, no matter the sport, athlete or circumstances, especially since no one physician has come forward in all these years to say Lance Armstrong was legally prescribed EPO as part of his cancer care all those years ago.
Therefore, despite the incredible battle Armstrong had to wage against an aggressive form of testicular cancer, his worldwide advocacy efforts to raise funds for cancer research, and his well-chronicled story of survival and return to championship-caliber form, his use of EPO (assuming he did use it) indeed cheapens his recovery from cancer. Why? Because I’m not convinced beating cancer was his primary goal, as obscene a suggestion as that might be.
Assuming you’re still reading, let’s think about it for a moment or two... Lance Armstrong, a world-class competitive cyclist, was battling a metastatic cancer most predicted could kill him, and at the same time, was training to be the same world-class competitive cyclist he was beforehand. Despite the toxic chemotherapy he endured in order to destroy the cancer throughout his body, Armstrong got stronger, returned to form relatively quickly, and has allegedly been cancer-free ever since. And... Despite all the different chemicals injected into his body and bloodstream, not once has he allegedly ever tested positive for even trace amounts of anything considered illegal or controlled by the strictest of FDA (Food and Drug Administration) or DEA (Drug Enforcement Agency) regulations. Not only did Armstrong live strong, he lived clean.
Okay, allow me to challenge this wonderful and amazing story one point at a time:
1. When I was treated for cancer-like growths between 1991 and 1995, this included three years of taking Methotrexate, a pretty nasty and toxic anticancer drug that supposedly stays in your system for 3-5 times as long as you’re taking the drug. Why do such drugs work this way? Consider it analogous to fumigating homes for bedbugs. Not only do you want to kill off every single bedbug, you want to kill off every laid egg, as well as the eggs inside every living and potentially living bedbug. In other words, the goal is to kill off several generations (present and future) of bedbugs so you’ll never have this problem again. In the logic of killing cancer with chemotherapy, the goal is to kill all the current and potential future forms or variations of a cancer, so it doesn’t present a recurring illness. So, while I took Methotrexate for three years, the drug stayed in my system for approximately a decade after treatments ended, and thank goodness, I’ve been cancer, tumor, growth-free since 1996.
2. When drugs stay in your system for long periods of time, the human body naturally experiences some minor or major side-effects, and perhaps those side-effects prevent your body from functioning at peak level compared to your pre-illness days. Case in point, I recently underwent a urine drug screen as part of my pain management protocol, and my urine tested positive for trace levels of a narcotic pain drug I hadn’t taken for twenty months. There could be any number of explanations; the most likely is that my liver may not have been effectively detoxifying my body like it used to. If you’re on chronic pain management drugs for a few years, there’s a good chance it could impair your liver. I happen to now take a medication that flushes out my liver and helps improve the detoxification process, so perhaps in the near future my liver will be in better shape than recently. Even if a good chunk of my spine wasn’t held together by titanium hardware, and I wasn’t an orthopedist’s or neurologist’s nightmare, a medication-impaired liver more than stands in the way of me ever regaining the athletic form of my youth. It’s part of aging. I shouldn’t expect to ever regain the body I had thirty years ago and feel inspired to return to the football field.
3. If EPO is some kind of miracle drug that turns the clock back and restores one to a young and pre-cancer body and energy level, why haven’t we heard about it from the American Cancer Society and other cancer expert organizations? How do we know what secondary harm EPO might be doing to Armstrong’s body all these years? Remember Lyle Alzado and how youthful and buff he looked before a failed comeback with the Raiders in 1991-1992? Alzado said it was a new diet, exercise regimen, and perspective on life. Less than a year later he had inoperable brain cancer and blamed it on steroid abuse. It wasn’t much longer before Alzado was dead at 43. What if EPO helps restore your body and counteracts all the physical toll chemotherapy takes? If that was the case, why doesn’t the American Cancer Society, or any other major cancer advocacy organization, cancer researcher, cancer care facility, or medical association endorse the use of EPO in conjunction with chemotherapy or other cancer treatment protocols?
4. For approximately a decade, we’ve heard about cancer, recovery, revival and resurrection all through the mouth of Lance Armstrong and his inner circle of physicians, agents, trainers and friends, what we can essentially call “Team Lance.” We see tumors all over his body, then we don’t see them at all. We see an emaciated man struggling to survive, then we see a world-class athlete ready to reclaim his throne as Tour de France champion. We hear rumors of extra help, but no one can ever catch him doping. Through all of this, Team Lance regulates the story, the data and the message we’re all expected to hear and believe. As far as Team lance is concerned, we’re all supposed to believe Armstrong’s alive and well, forever cancer-free, clean as a whistle and a multi-time champion well beyond reproach. Sure, that’s what we’re being told, but what are we not being told at the same time? What ticking time bomb is eating away at Armstrong, potentially leading him to an early demise as Alzado’s? We’ll never know because Team Lance makes sure they’ll never tell. Those who dare to talk outside the circle all find themselves considerably outside the circle.
5. What was Armstrong’s top priority and motivation when he began he journey from tumor-riddled man potentially facing his maker? Was his top priority to beat cancer and live the healthiest life possible until a ripe old age, or was it to ensure “Tour de France champion” was at the very beginning of his obituary, whenever the day came to write it? Think about it... If G-d came down from the heavens to you and told you the trade-off for beating an insidious disease was life to a ripe old age but with only five attributes you could include on your tombstone, what would they be? Would you want to be recalled as a good spouse, parent, friend, lover, community pillar, or someone of dignity and integrity, or would you want to be recalled for some superficial fame that really doesn’t define you as a person? Benjamin Franklin once said, “I’d rather people say ‘he lived a useful life’ rather than ‘he died rich.’” Maybe being remembered as the greatest cyclist ever matter more to Armstrong than what he stood for as a man. After all, Ted Williams wanted people to say, “there’s the greatest hitter of all time” whenever he walked down the street. Maybe if Teddy Ballgame saw life just a little bit beyond his exploits at Fenway Park his family wouldn’t have sold his dead body for deep freezing like a stripped-down Buick.
I can’t speak for Armstrong, just as I can’t be the moralist in this debate. I don’t know what it’s like to be a “champion” or the “best” in any arena of life. I’m just like the vast majority of folks on Earth, a run-of-the-mill, 44-regular, off-the-rack person. When I played football I played for horrendous teams and enjoyed just being part of the action and the lifetime of jokes I can share later on about the experience. I had no delusions about glory and trophies or busts bearing my face. I played to earn my scholarship, played for the love of contact, played for the love of being on the field, even when my time was when games were hopelessly out of reach (usually with us on the losing end), and didn’t really put up a fight when John McKay chased me off to graduate school. Football was a fun chapter of my young life, and I was already looking forward to the next chapter of life in academia and chemistry labs. By the time I became a cancer patient, my football career was already seven years in the past. My objective was to beat the cancer, and keep living a life I still saw evolving in front of me as a person of faith, integrity, knowledge and relationships. Even if it was remotely possible, there’s no way I would’ve gone to my doctors in 1991 and said, give me back the athletically powerful body I had in 1981. Chances are none of you would consider saying that either, but maybe that’s because none of us see our lives the way Armstrong saw and continues to see his.
Perhaps Armstrong made his deal with the Devil, and perhaps the bill for that deal will come due later on in a much crueler way than his first bout with cancer did. What will be our reaction then, regardless of what the feds and anti-doping experts find out? Will we be as conflicted as we are now, or will our response be more in-line with how we respond to the growing list of cheats who fall from grace?
We react as viscerally as we do, pro or con, because nothing is crystal clear with Armstrong. On one hand, he’s a cancer survivor, raised tons of money for cancer research, inspired an entire nation with Live Strong wrist bands, had a very public romance with Cheryl Crow, and above all, a multi-time Tour de France champion. On the other hand, he bailed out on Crow as soon as she was diagnosed with cancer, too many rumors continue to circle him like vultures in the desert, too many former associates are willing to talk, too many responses seem inadequate, claiming “you’ve never caught me” as opposed to “I’ve never put my body at risk,” too many questions simply won’t go away, too many sponsors seem skittish, and worst of all, too many folks are no longer buying what he’s selling. We wanted to believe the best about him, and many still do, but heroes can be tainted, and Armstrong may end up being just as human and flawed as the rest of us.
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Are you a professional basketball player or major league baseball coach? Are you feeling cranky and tired of fans who say what’s on their minds at the arena or ballpark? Need to alleviate all that built-up stress from being in front of thousands with nowhere to hide? I got it! Why not shoot off a few sexuality slurs and take a load off your back?! Yep, this apparently is the new trend in MLB and the NBA. First Atlanta Braves pitching coach Roger McDowell spewed invectives and threats toward a few fans in San Francisco, then the Lakers Kobe Bryant gave a referee a piece of his mind during a game, now Chicago Bulls forward Joakim Noah is $50,000 lighter in the pockets after calling a Miami Heat fan the “new F word.” I guess because Noah apologized during his post-game media session NBA Commissioner David Stern decided not to fine him the same $100,000 Bryant was fined. No matter how you look at it, it seems like the people we collectively pay millions to to entertain us over six-month seasons continue to fail as members of our community-at-large, members of what’s supposed to be a melting pot society, and role models for our nation’s youth.
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Am I the only one who wonders why Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis can’t think before he speaks? Here’s a man who faced capital murder charges after two people were killed in a melee following Super Bowl XXXIV, January 2000, in Atlanta, only to escape with obstruction of justice charges, telling ESPN’s Sal Paolantonio during an interview that the crime rate will increase if there’s no NFL season this fall. Lewis’ qualifier? People will be bored with nothing to do! Crime rate for who?! Is the NFL’s version of Inspector Clouseau referring to himself and fellow NFL players? Is he referring to the millions of fans who watch NFL games? Maybe an extended lockout might help reduce the testosterone levels of players and fans, reduce the instances of drunk driving, domestic violence, and trips to the emergency room? Maybe we’d see a decline in stupid behavior? Maybe we’ll see historic lows in the amount of body and face paint purchased from hardware stores? Could you imagine how this might affect sales for alcohol, hot dogs, barbeque grills and other supplies, such as big-screen televisions?
Maybe we might see a dramatic increase in book sales or visits to libraries? Maybe we might see an increase in guys going to the movies with their wives, girlfriends and/or families? Who knows? Museums on Sunday could become popular again. Leaves might be raked more regularly. The trash might be taken out more regularly. Maybe even the recycling will be sorted! Women might be able to talk more with their men, no longer doomed to play second-fiddle to the remote control. And you know what THAT can lead to... GARAGE SALES!
PLEASE! For the love of G-d... Settle this collective bargaining deal already! This nation’s balance of nature and order depends on it!
All kidding aside, perhaps Mr. Lewis might wish to consult Denver Broncos safety David Bruton on what to do when there’s down time from the NFL. Bruton’s been working as a $90/day substitute teacher in Ohio since the lockout started. Bruton, who graduated from Notre Dame with a degree in Political Science, has taught second graders, middle and high-school level social studies, and today he’s teaching a tenth-grade geometry class, telling ESPN’s First Take crew, “I had to re-learn all that math I haven’t taken since my freshman year at Notre Dame.”
While the NFL has canceled this year’s annual rookie symposium, not only did the league once again drop the ball on a vital and potentially profound career-shaping experience for young men entering a world of sudden riches, hyped-up expectations and the harsh realities of how fleeting fame and fortune can be, it denied itself the incredible opportunity to take the negative of the lockout and present a positive in the off-season activities of David Bruton. If you know me and regularly read my columns, you know the special regard I have for pursuing higher education and teaching as a vocation and intellectual journey. David Bruton breaks the mold of the standard moron football player with nothing better to do when not on the gridiron or weight room, and just like other wonderful young men like Myron Rolle and Andrew Luck, the NFL continues to screw up royally and invest its hype in the semi-literate, the semi-articulate, and the trouble-making and trouble-finding Neanderthals who get the most exposure for highlight show catches and hits, the kind of on-field play that fuels the off-field idiocy Ray Lewis cutely hints of to Sal Paolantonio. What a shame. What hypocrisy.
Kudos to Bruton for not only doing something productive and positive with his free time, but for demonstrating that professional football players can do something with a genuine college education. Most impressive to this former chemistry and physics professor is that Bruton shows that someone with an academic background outside of math and science CAN successfully utilize faded knowledge. In other words, for all you folks who like to say math wasn’t your thing, well, that’s no longer a valid excuse, courtesy of David Bruton!
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Let me get this straight... Mets owner Fred Wilpon tells the New Yorker that there’s no way he’s paying out “Carl Crawford money” to pending free agent shortstop Jose Reyes, right fielder Carlos Beltran (another pending free agent) is about “65-70% of what he used to be” when he was a younger centerfielder, and third baseman David Wright isn’t a “superstar,” and everyone’s in a tizzy?! Yeah, this is hardly the kind of thing we’d ever expect from Freddy from Lafayette High, but the man’s under enormous stress from the Bernie Madoff mess, he’s disillusioned at how this year’s team will never remind anyone of the 1986 Mets, 25 years after winning an incredible and memorable World Series, and he likely feels like he’s over a financial barrel looking at how fragile the core of a very good team only five years ago seeks new contract security and riches, an investment any reasonable owner would have second, third and tenth thoughts about.
Does it hurt to hear such words from Wilpon? Sure, but is it because the truth may hurt, or is it because we never thought Wilpon would ever take a page out of the Yankees playbook for how to publicly assess stars in the process of passing their prime? Fred Wilpon deserves a lot better than how the federal court system and its appointed trustee, Irving Picard, have treated him. Say what you want about the Mets and the way things have soured since Game 7 of the 2006 NLCS, but this is not the way the team CEO of over thirty years should have to function while his world is repeatedly turned upside-down by things very outside of his control.
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Even if the baseball season doesn’t seem to be going the way some folks want, you have to smile at how the Mets continue to hang tough after a 5-13 start, how the AL East may be a five-team race all summer long, how the Texas Rangers survived 36 games without last year’s MVP Josh Hamilton, how the San Francisco Giants are showing last year’s World Series title might not have been a fluke, and how the Cleveland Indians continue to have MLB’s best record. Yes, you heard me... the Cleveland Indians continue to have MLB’s best record!
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Speaking of David Wright, could all the pontificators of gloom and doom hold off saying anything until Wright comes back from Los Angeles and his scheduled consult with noted back specialist Dr. Robert Watkins? Watkins has a very solid reputation working with professional athletes who endure considerable spinal trauma during competition. If Wright, at only 27-years old, indeed has a spondylolysis after landing on grass during a baseball game, he’s more than entitled to a second opinion from one of the best. Spondylolyses are not to be taken lightly. Ignore one in a 27-year old athlete’s back for several years, and Wright could be staring at a spondylolisthesis, or instability between vertebrae, when he’s in his forties, requiring the kind of extensive fusion surgery I needed a few years ago.
But think about it... Wright lands on grass and the result is a stress fracture between lumbar vertebrae, and we all accept it as cause and effect.
So how is it that GEICO, my former auto insurance company, a company I’m suing in federal court, spends three years insisting that the impact of a Ford pick-up truck, driven approximately 15 miles per hour into the back of my Toyota Corolla (stopped at a Yield sign), crushing the back of my Corolla, could not possibly cause a spondylolysis between vertebrae adjacent to my previously surgically-fused ones? Better yet, how is it that the driver’s auto insurance company, AAA Mid-Atlantic, a company I’m suing in state court, spends three years insisting the same thing, despite the driver’s sworn testimony that he plowed his truck right into the back of my car, declaring his full liability, and AAA Mid-Atlantic declaring my car completely totaled?
That’s two auto insurance companies claiming to know more about orthopedics and Newtonian physics, and willing to fight tooth and nail in court in order to avoid paying out for medical damages. Maybe we should all question whether Wright really hurt himself on that awkward play at third base against the Astros five weeks ago? Maybe Wright slipped in a shower, or hurt it during locker room horseplay, or late-night hijinx in a Manhattan club? No... We’d never consider raising such doubts, because Wright’s one of the legit stars and the face of the Mets. We never question his integrity, especially when we try to understand how a perennial All-Star is hitting so dreadfully at this point of the season. Yes, I believe the injury’s legit and the explanation both logical and probable. So why would two auto insurance companies challenge the veracity or cause of my injuries? Because they believe they and their staff lawyers can get away with it, and who ever stands up on behalf of regular folks like us? If David Wright can’t walk or play baseball again, that’s a major loss to to an organization that invested millions into him. If I can’t walk or enjoy my livelihood again, whose real loss is that? It’s not like any of us are worth that many millions to our employers or financial backers, right?
I don’t begrudge Wright or any athlete their worth or due, but who wrote the rules that makes their well-being more important than anyone else’s? Let’s face it... David Wright could be one major injury or surgery away from becoming a regular folk, just like you and me... Then what would we say about his obtaining a second opinion in Los Angeles?
Just a thought.
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Last thought: Please try to keep former Hall of Fame catcher Gary Carter in yours while he seeks treatment at Duke University for four recently-diagnosed small brain tumors.
Isn’t it funny how Armstrong continuously boasts about how many tests he’s come up “clean” -- or never been caught? First, as someone who’s been involved in several litigations over the past few years, I can tell you that there’s a very subtle yet distinct difference between “innocent” and “not guilty.” We obviously learned about this difference back to the O.J. Simpson murder and wrongful death trials, so it shouldn’t shock any of you to hear me say that “not guilty” simply means someone’s lucky enough to have an attorney slick enough to find enough loopholes and technicalities within our judicial system to help a client get away with something. If you’re “innocent” that means you’re clean and didn’t do anything you’ve been charged with. But defendants don’t plead “innocent” in a court of law; they plead “not guilty.” It’s sort of like those old James Cagney films where his gangster (NOT gangsta) characters would declare, you ain’t got nothing on me!
The more we listen to Lance Armstrong defend himself against these pinheads willing to help serve him to the feds, the more I hear Jimmy Cagney’s voice and defiance towards anyone and everyone who thought they were going to get him in the movie. Like Al Capone, no one seems to be able to find enough evidence to make guilt stick on Armstrong, but just like that little tax evasion thing, you sense Armstrong’s gonna get it in the end. Somehow we expect one little thing to finally trip him up and expose him for using EPO and other PEDs, not to mention shedding light on how no single urine or blood test by anti-doping professionals exists with the proof needed to verify his cheating mindset.
This being all said, I now wish to come to the debate from a completely different reference point, that of a former football player, an academically trained scientist with biomedical research experience, and a two-time cancer survivor. Yesterday evening I joined into a Twitter debate and said, “Cheating wrong, period. Cheating worse for cancer patient. Cheapens the recovery. Misguided priorities.” Naturally, my tweet raised eyebrows and disagreement, which I was perfectly fine with. However, when you share thoughts 140 characters at a time, you need to expand and contextualize your words. My main point is that any use of PEDs is wrong, no matter the sport, athlete or circumstances, especially since no one physician has come forward in all these years to say Lance Armstrong was legally prescribed EPO as part of his cancer care all those years ago.
Therefore, despite the incredible battle Armstrong had to wage against an aggressive form of testicular cancer, his worldwide advocacy efforts to raise funds for cancer research, and his well-chronicled story of survival and return to championship-caliber form, his use of EPO (assuming he did use it) indeed cheapens his recovery from cancer. Why? Because I’m not convinced beating cancer was his primary goal, as obscene a suggestion as that might be.
Assuming you’re still reading, let’s think about it for a moment or two... Lance Armstrong, a world-class competitive cyclist, was battling a metastatic cancer most predicted could kill him, and at the same time, was training to be the same world-class competitive cyclist he was beforehand. Despite the toxic chemotherapy he endured in order to destroy the cancer throughout his body, Armstrong got stronger, returned to form relatively quickly, and has allegedly been cancer-free ever since. And... Despite all the different chemicals injected into his body and bloodstream, not once has he allegedly ever tested positive for even trace amounts of anything considered illegal or controlled by the strictest of FDA (Food and Drug Administration) or DEA (Drug Enforcement Agency) regulations. Not only did Armstrong live strong, he lived clean.
Okay, allow me to challenge this wonderful and amazing story one point at a time:
1. When I was treated for cancer-like growths between 1991 and 1995, this included three years of taking Methotrexate, a pretty nasty and toxic anticancer drug that supposedly stays in your system for 3-5 times as long as you’re taking the drug. Why do such drugs work this way? Consider it analogous to fumigating homes for bedbugs. Not only do you want to kill off every single bedbug, you want to kill off every laid egg, as well as the eggs inside every living and potentially living bedbug. In other words, the goal is to kill off several generations (present and future) of bedbugs so you’ll never have this problem again. In the logic of killing cancer with chemotherapy, the goal is to kill all the current and potential future forms or variations of a cancer, so it doesn’t present a recurring illness. So, while I took Methotrexate for three years, the drug stayed in my system for approximately a decade after treatments ended, and thank goodness, I’ve been cancer, tumor, growth-free since 1996.
2. When drugs stay in your system for long periods of time, the human body naturally experiences some minor or major side-effects, and perhaps those side-effects prevent your body from functioning at peak level compared to your pre-illness days. Case in point, I recently underwent a urine drug screen as part of my pain management protocol, and my urine tested positive for trace levels of a narcotic pain drug I hadn’t taken for twenty months. There could be any number of explanations; the most likely is that my liver may not have been effectively detoxifying my body like it used to. If you’re on chronic pain management drugs for a few years, there’s a good chance it could impair your liver. I happen to now take a medication that flushes out my liver and helps improve the detoxification process, so perhaps in the near future my liver will be in better shape than recently. Even if a good chunk of my spine wasn’t held together by titanium hardware, and I wasn’t an orthopedist’s or neurologist’s nightmare, a medication-impaired liver more than stands in the way of me ever regaining the athletic form of my youth. It’s part of aging. I shouldn’t expect to ever regain the body I had thirty years ago and feel inspired to return to the football field.
3. If EPO is some kind of miracle drug that turns the clock back and restores one to a young and pre-cancer body and energy level, why haven’t we heard about it from the American Cancer Society and other cancer expert organizations? How do we know what secondary harm EPO might be doing to Armstrong’s body all these years? Remember Lyle Alzado and how youthful and buff he looked before a failed comeback with the Raiders in 1991-1992? Alzado said it was a new diet, exercise regimen, and perspective on life. Less than a year later he had inoperable brain cancer and blamed it on steroid abuse. It wasn’t much longer before Alzado was dead at 43. What if EPO helps restore your body and counteracts all the physical toll chemotherapy takes? If that was the case, why doesn’t the American Cancer Society, or any other major cancer advocacy organization, cancer researcher, cancer care facility, or medical association endorse the use of EPO in conjunction with chemotherapy or other cancer treatment protocols?
4. For approximately a decade, we’ve heard about cancer, recovery, revival and resurrection all through the mouth of Lance Armstrong and his inner circle of physicians, agents, trainers and friends, what we can essentially call “Team Lance.” We see tumors all over his body, then we don’t see them at all. We see an emaciated man struggling to survive, then we see a world-class athlete ready to reclaim his throne as Tour de France champion. We hear rumors of extra help, but no one can ever catch him doping. Through all of this, Team Lance regulates the story, the data and the message we’re all expected to hear and believe. As far as Team lance is concerned, we’re all supposed to believe Armstrong’s alive and well, forever cancer-free, clean as a whistle and a multi-time champion well beyond reproach. Sure, that’s what we’re being told, but what are we not being told at the same time? What ticking time bomb is eating away at Armstrong, potentially leading him to an early demise as Alzado’s? We’ll never know because Team Lance makes sure they’ll never tell. Those who dare to talk outside the circle all find themselves considerably outside the circle.
5. What was Armstrong’s top priority and motivation when he began he journey from tumor-riddled man potentially facing his maker? Was his top priority to beat cancer and live the healthiest life possible until a ripe old age, or was it to ensure “Tour de France champion” was at the very beginning of his obituary, whenever the day came to write it? Think about it... If G-d came down from the heavens to you and told you the trade-off for beating an insidious disease was life to a ripe old age but with only five attributes you could include on your tombstone, what would they be? Would you want to be recalled as a good spouse, parent, friend, lover, community pillar, or someone of dignity and integrity, or would you want to be recalled for some superficial fame that really doesn’t define you as a person? Benjamin Franklin once said, “I’d rather people say ‘he lived a useful life’ rather than ‘he died rich.’” Maybe being remembered as the greatest cyclist ever matter more to Armstrong than what he stood for as a man. After all, Ted Williams wanted people to say, “there’s the greatest hitter of all time” whenever he walked down the street. Maybe if Teddy Ballgame saw life just a little bit beyond his exploits at Fenway Park his family wouldn’t have sold his dead body for deep freezing like a stripped-down Buick.
I can’t speak for Armstrong, just as I can’t be the moralist in this debate. I don’t know what it’s like to be a “champion” or the “best” in any arena of life. I’m just like the vast majority of folks on Earth, a run-of-the-mill, 44-regular, off-the-rack person. When I played football I played for horrendous teams and enjoyed just being part of the action and the lifetime of jokes I can share later on about the experience. I had no delusions about glory and trophies or busts bearing my face. I played to earn my scholarship, played for the love of contact, played for the love of being on the field, even when my time was when games were hopelessly out of reach (usually with us on the losing end), and didn’t really put up a fight when John McKay chased me off to graduate school. Football was a fun chapter of my young life, and I was already looking forward to the next chapter of life in academia and chemistry labs. By the time I became a cancer patient, my football career was already seven years in the past. My objective was to beat the cancer, and keep living a life I still saw evolving in front of me as a person of faith, integrity, knowledge and relationships. Even if it was remotely possible, there’s no way I would’ve gone to my doctors in 1991 and said, give me back the athletically powerful body I had in 1981. Chances are none of you would consider saying that either, but maybe that’s because none of us see our lives the way Armstrong saw and continues to see his.
Perhaps Armstrong made his deal with the Devil, and perhaps the bill for that deal will come due later on in a much crueler way than his first bout with cancer did. What will be our reaction then, regardless of what the feds and anti-doping experts find out? Will we be as conflicted as we are now, or will our response be more in-line with how we respond to the growing list of cheats who fall from grace?
We react as viscerally as we do, pro or con, because nothing is crystal clear with Armstrong. On one hand, he’s a cancer survivor, raised tons of money for cancer research, inspired an entire nation with Live Strong wrist bands, had a very public romance with Cheryl Crow, and above all, a multi-time Tour de France champion. On the other hand, he bailed out on Crow as soon as she was diagnosed with cancer, too many rumors continue to circle him like vultures in the desert, too many former associates are willing to talk, too many responses seem inadequate, claiming “you’ve never caught me” as opposed to “I’ve never put my body at risk,” too many questions simply won’t go away, too many sponsors seem skittish, and worst of all, too many folks are no longer buying what he’s selling. We wanted to believe the best about him, and many still do, but heroes can be tainted, and Armstrong may end up being just as human and flawed as the rest of us.
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Are you a professional basketball player or major league baseball coach? Are you feeling cranky and tired of fans who say what’s on their minds at the arena or ballpark? Need to alleviate all that built-up stress from being in front of thousands with nowhere to hide? I got it! Why not shoot off a few sexuality slurs and take a load off your back?! Yep, this apparently is the new trend in MLB and the NBA. First Atlanta Braves pitching coach Roger McDowell spewed invectives and threats toward a few fans in San Francisco, then the Lakers Kobe Bryant gave a referee a piece of his mind during a game, now Chicago Bulls forward Joakim Noah is $50,000 lighter in the pockets after calling a Miami Heat fan the “new F word.” I guess because Noah apologized during his post-game media session NBA Commissioner David Stern decided not to fine him the same $100,000 Bryant was fined. No matter how you look at it, it seems like the people we collectively pay millions to to entertain us over six-month seasons continue to fail as members of our community-at-large, members of what’s supposed to be a melting pot society, and role models for our nation’s youth.
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Am I the only one who wonders why Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis can’t think before he speaks? Here’s a man who faced capital murder charges after two people were killed in a melee following Super Bowl XXXIV, January 2000, in Atlanta, only to escape with obstruction of justice charges, telling ESPN’s Sal Paolantonio during an interview that the crime rate will increase if there’s no NFL season this fall. Lewis’ qualifier? People will be bored with nothing to do! Crime rate for who?! Is the NFL’s version of Inspector Clouseau referring to himself and fellow NFL players? Is he referring to the millions of fans who watch NFL games? Maybe an extended lockout might help reduce the testosterone levels of players and fans, reduce the instances of drunk driving, domestic violence, and trips to the emergency room? Maybe we’d see a decline in stupid behavior? Maybe we’ll see historic lows in the amount of body and face paint purchased from hardware stores? Could you imagine how this might affect sales for alcohol, hot dogs, barbeque grills and other supplies, such as big-screen televisions?
Maybe we might see a dramatic increase in book sales or visits to libraries? Maybe we might see an increase in guys going to the movies with their wives, girlfriends and/or families? Who knows? Museums on Sunday could become popular again. Leaves might be raked more regularly. The trash might be taken out more regularly. Maybe even the recycling will be sorted! Women might be able to talk more with their men, no longer doomed to play second-fiddle to the remote control. And you know what THAT can lead to... GARAGE SALES!
PLEASE! For the love of G-d... Settle this collective bargaining deal already! This nation’s balance of nature and order depends on it!
All kidding aside, perhaps Mr. Lewis might wish to consult Denver Broncos safety David Bruton on what to do when there’s down time from the NFL. Bruton’s been working as a $90/day substitute teacher in Ohio since the lockout started. Bruton, who graduated from Notre Dame with a degree in Political Science, has taught second graders, middle and high-school level social studies, and today he’s teaching a tenth-grade geometry class, telling ESPN’s First Take crew, “I had to re-learn all that math I haven’t taken since my freshman year at Notre Dame.”
While the NFL has canceled this year’s annual rookie symposium, not only did the league once again drop the ball on a vital and potentially profound career-shaping experience for young men entering a world of sudden riches, hyped-up expectations and the harsh realities of how fleeting fame and fortune can be, it denied itself the incredible opportunity to take the negative of the lockout and present a positive in the off-season activities of David Bruton. If you know me and regularly read my columns, you know the special regard I have for pursuing higher education and teaching as a vocation and intellectual journey. David Bruton breaks the mold of the standard moron football player with nothing better to do when not on the gridiron or weight room, and just like other wonderful young men like Myron Rolle and Andrew Luck, the NFL continues to screw up royally and invest its hype in the semi-literate, the semi-articulate, and the trouble-making and trouble-finding Neanderthals who get the most exposure for highlight show catches and hits, the kind of on-field play that fuels the off-field idiocy Ray Lewis cutely hints of to Sal Paolantonio. What a shame. What hypocrisy.
Kudos to Bruton for not only doing something productive and positive with his free time, but for demonstrating that professional football players can do something with a genuine college education. Most impressive to this former chemistry and physics professor is that Bruton shows that someone with an academic background outside of math and science CAN successfully utilize faded knowledge. In other words, for all you folks who like to say math wasn’t your thing, well, that’s no longer a valid excuse, courtesy of David Bruton!
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Let me get this straight... Mets owner Fred Wilpon tells the New Yorker that there’s no way he’s paying out “Carl Crawford money” to pending free agent shortstop Jose Reyes, right fielder Carlos Beltran (another pending free agent) is about “65-70% of what he used to be” when he was a younger centerfielder, and third baseman David Wright isn’t a “superstar,” and everyone’s in a tizzy?! Yeah, this is hardly the kind of thing we’d ever expect from Freddy from Lafayette High, but the man’s under enormous stress from the Bernie Madoff mess, he’s disillusioned at how this year’s team will never remind anyone of the 1986 Mets, 25 years after winning an incredible and memorable World Series, and he likely feels like he’s over a financial barrel looking at how fragile the core of a very good team only five years ago seeks new contract security and riches, an investment any reasonable owner would have second, third and tenth thoughts about.
Does it hurt to hear such words from Wilpon? Sure, but is it because the truth may hurt, or is it because we never thought Wilpon would ever take a page out of the Yankees playbook for how to publicly assess stars in the process of passing their prime? Fred Wilpon deserves a lot better than how the federal court system and its appointed trustee, Irving Picard, have treated him. Say what you want about the Mets and the way things have soured since Game 7 of the 2006 NLCS, but this is not the way the team CEO of over thirty years should have to function while his world is repeatedly turned upside-down by things very outside of his control.
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Even if the baseball season doesn’t seem to be going the way some folks want, you have to smile at how the Mets continue to hang tough after a 5-13 start, how the AL East may be a five-team race all summer long, how the Texas Rangers survived 36 games without last year’s MVP Josh Hamilton, how the San Francisco Giants are showing last year’s World Series title might not have been a fluke, and how the Cleveland Indians continue to have MLB’s best record. Yes, you heard me... the Cleveland Indians continue to have MLB’s best record!
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Speaking of David Wright, could all the pontificators of gloom and doom hold off saying anything until Wright comes back from Los Angeles and his scheduled consult with noted back specialist Dr. Robert Watkins? Watkins has a very solid reputation working with professional athletes who endure considerable spinal trauma during competition. If Wright, at only 27-years old, indeed has a spondylolysis after landing on grass during a baseball game, he’s more than entitled to a second opinion from one of the best. Spondylolyses are not to be taken lightly. Ignore one in a 27-year old athlete’s back for several years, and Wright could be staring at a spondylolisthesis, or instability between vertebrae, when he’s in his forties, requiring the kind of extensive fusion surgery I needed a few years ago.
But think about it... Wright lands on grass and the result is a stress fracture between lumbar vertebrae, and we all accept it as cause and effect.
So how is it that GEICO, my former auto insurance company, a company I’m suing in federal court, spends three years insisting that the impact of a Ford pick-up truck, driven approximately 15 miles per hour into the back of my Toyota Corolla (stopped at a Yield sign), crushing the back of my Corolla, could not possibly cause a spondylolysis between vertebrae adjacent to my previously surgically-fused ones? Better yet, how is it that the driver’s auto insurance company, AAA Mid-Atlantic, a company I’m suing in state court, spends three years insisting the same thing, despite the driver’s sworn testimony that he plowed his truck right into the back of my car, declaring his full liability, and AAA Mid-Atlantic declaring my car completely totaled?
That’s two auto insurance companies claiming to know more about orthopedics and Newtonian physics, and willing to fight tooth and nail in court in order to avoid paying out for medical damages. Maybe we should all question whether Wright really hurt himself on that awkward play at third base against the Astros five weeks ago? Maybe Wright slipped in a shower, or hurt it during locker room horseplay, or late-night hijinx in a Manhattan club? No... We’d never consider raising such doubts, because Wright’s one of the legit stars and the face of the Mets. We never question his integrity, especially when we try to understand how a perennial All-Star is hitting so dreadfully at this point of the season. Yes, I believe the injury’s legit and the explanation both logical and probable. So why would two auto insurance companies challenge the veracity or cause of my injuries? Because they believe they and their staff lawyers can get away with it, and who ever stands up on behalf of regular folks like us? If David Wright can’t walk or play baseball again, that’s a major loss to to an organization that invested millions into him. If I can’t walk or enjoy my livelihood again, whose real loss is that? It’s not like any of us are worth that many millions to our employers or financial backers, right?
I don’t begrudge Wright or any athlete their worth or due, but who wrote the rules that makes their well-being more important than anyone else’s? Let’s face it... David Wright could be one major injury or surgery away from becoming a regular folk, just like you and me... Then what would we say about his obtaining a second opinion in Los Angeles?
Just a thought.
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Last thought: Please try to keep former Hall of Fame catcher Gary Carter in yours while he seeks treatment at Duke University for four recently-diagnosed small brain tumors.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Tickling a sports fan’s fancy and testing his patience -- Sports Thoughts for May 4, 2011
I’ve learned something interesting about myself: If I leave more time between columns, I have more comprehensive thoughts to put together. Granted, I don’t enjoy going an entire month without writing a column, but sometimes some time away helps the mind percolate better, and the way my brain struggles to work these days, a little extra percolation perhaps makes for a better brew?
So, this is what’s on my mind:
I’m still processing the news that Osama Bin Laden is dead. I really have no reaction whatsoever beyond “Really? Who knew he was still alive?” I never really believed he was hiding in a cave on the Pakistan-Afghanistan border, as common theory was. I frankly figured he was living comfortably with access to the internet and all major news networks, or perhaps he was dead all along and kept propped up in a “Weekend at Bernie’s” fashion by his al Qaeda stooges. As a child of the 1960s, I could certainly be cynical about anything and everything heard or read regarding his demise, but I’m willing to trust our President and military leadership on this. There are things we’re simply not supposed to know when it comes to operations within the bowels of the White House and Pentagon, which is why running this country is hands down the toughest job in the world.
Just like countless others, I have my own personal 9-11 memories and stories, and Sunday night’s news of Bin Laden’s death brought those memories and stories back in numbing fashion. As I flipped my television back and forth between the Mets-Phillies game on ESPN and NBC News, I became quietly reflective listening to Brian Williams on NBC and Bobby Valentine on ESPN. I can honestly say I was in a mental fog through the eleventh and twelfth innings of the game and didn’t even know how to feel after the Mets finally stopped a three-game losing streak with their 2-1 14-inning win. Think about it... How does any intelligent or rationally thinking adult react or feel after such an unusual intersection of events?
This is what makes Monday’s tweets by Steelers running back Rashard Mendenhall so troubling, so stunning. In case you haven’t heard — and I’m slowly catching up on the story myself — Mendenhall made the following tweets:
What kind of person celebrates death? It's amazing how people can HATE a man they have never even heard speak. We've only heard one side...
I believe in God. I believe we're ALL his children. And I believe HE is the ONE and ONLY judge.
Those who judge others, will also be judged themselves.
For those of you who said you want to see Bin Laden burn in hell and piss on his ashes, I ask how would God feel about your heart?
There is not an ignorant bone in my body. I just encourage you to #think
The Steelers immediately distanced themselves from Mendenhall’s comments, and the media — including social media -- backlash is clearly understandable. I personally subscribe to the theory that you don’t dance on your enemy’s grave, but each individual has the right to react and believe as they wish. I also subscribe to the concept of Freedom of Speech. But I also subscribe to the theory that free speech does have limits.
Let’s face it; Osama Bin Laden and 9-11 bring out incredible and understandable emotion from Americans. I’ve said it since 9-11, and I’ve said it since the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq began: Americans have been whipped into a nationalistic frenzy, sometimes bordering on jingoism. I’m not saying this is good or bad, but it’s always struck me as odd and a bit troubling. The “USA” chants seem of a strangely different tone compared to the Cold War days, when an Olympic hockey team of kids stunned the Soviets one February day in 1980. The chants and attitudes seem strangely different compared to the stories I heard from older family members about World War II. The “American Pride” of past decades and global conflicts seemed more genuine than what we have today. In a strange way, I sometimes wonder if the “American Pride” we hear on streets today has the sincerity of drunk Dodgers fans beating that Giants fan into a coma in the parking lot at Chez Ravine. Sure, that sounds harsh, but do you ever ask why some folks are proud to be American, or what America represents for them?
But Mendenhall’s comments leave me to wonder if he actually understands what 9-11 and the war on terror are all about. After all, he’ll be 24 years old in June, meaning he was 14 in September 2001. Is it possible Mendenhall was an oblivious teenager living under a proverbial rock? Is it possible he’s genetically wired to simply never get it? Consider that only mere weeks ago Mendenhall equated the NFL CBA owner-player relationship with slavery prior to the Civil War. Is it possible Mendenhall has never read a legitimate newspaper, much less a history book? Does he ever bother to watch the news?
Oh sure, there are plenty of nut jobs in this country who believe our government orchestrated 9-11, murdering nearly 3,000 of its own citizens in the name of oil or economic benefit, or some other whacko conspiracy theory or hyper-religious doctrine, and these whackos come from all different segments of society. That Rashard Mendenhall is African-American is merely coincidental to the context of this story. However, Mendenhall being a professional football player is very relevant, because once again we see another semi-educated blockhead personifying the very stereotype of the dumb jock having no clue about the real world or the context of information, and having zero ability to verbally express himself without raising questions about his IQ.
As a native New Yorker and former football player myself, I take Mendenhall’s to heart and with great offense. Tony Kornheiser and Michael Wilbon of ESPN’s Pardon the Interruption both raised the concern about Mendenhall using Twitter as a public venue to espouse his ignorance. To be a public figure and be labeled ignorant is not a good combination. Ask Sarah Palin, or Glenn Back, or Rush Limbaugh. When does Charlie Sheen cease becoming entertaining and say just enough to become a pariah like Mel Gibson?
On the other hand, consider what Chris Douglas-Roberts of the Milwaukee Bucks had to say to the New York Daily News:
“Was the search for Bin Laden truly worth so many American military deaths, over so many years? It’s just been very costly for us. When I say us, I mean the United States. We still have people over there. It took 919,967 deaths [and] $1,188,263,000,000 to kill that one guy.”
Maybe hearing my thoughts, and Mendenhall’s thoughts and Douglas-Roberts’ thoughts make us uncomfortable, but when we see our national economy still a mess, unemployment still very high, and the cost of everything skyrocketing while wages remain stagnant for most Americans, you can’t help but wonder why we’re cheering and jumping up and down. While Bin Laden is gone, it’s not like his death was any bargain of the century for us. But as we know, there’s rational thought and then there’s inflammatory rhetoric.
I’m not a public figure, although my 25-year teaching career did impress upon me the importance of watching what I say when I serve a community and earn my salary from taxpayers. I never enjoyed a professional football career like Mendenhall does, but I know the stigma of presumed stupidity because I did spend several years wearing helmet and shoulder pads while pursuing my education. I still remember being told by professors and classmates at the University of South Florida that I didn’t have the smarts to pursue a graduate degree in chemistry when I traded in my playbook for incredibly thick textbooks.
Playing football didn’t make me a dumb person, and I’ll stack my masters degree, doctorate, and 25 years of teaching chemistry and physics against anyone else as proof, thank you very much. But the presumption of stupidity all those years ago put a chip on my shoulder the size of Antarctica that’s never gone away. When members of the National Football League, past and present, demonstrate how ignorant and uneducated they are, it’s a personal affront and embarrassment to me, because I take great pride in my football past, no matter how mediocre I played, just as I take great pride in my educational training and academic career. I don’t believe athletics is an alternative or barrier to becoming an educated person, I’m sick of hearing half-baked insights by members of our sports world, and even sicker of hearing society’s response as “what do you expect from a jock?”
Mendenhall is hardly the only blockhead sharing thoughts while the brain’s disengaged. A couple of weeks ago, former New York Giants wide receiver and current ESPN analyst Amani Toomer called NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell’s player conduct policies “Gestapo tactics.” Although Toomer eventually apologized, once again we’re hearing a member of the NFL family use inappropriate, insulting and miscontextualized terms. Again, did Toomer ever attend a history class or read about World War II? My girlfriend and I both had family members subjected to the horrors of the Nazi regime. We know what it’s like to grow up around people with numbers tattooed on their forearms and emotional scars to last a lifetime. Are Goodell’s policies a bit heavy handed? Perhaps they are, but given the non-stop off-field problems players continue to get into, such policies are a necessary evil. However, under no circumstances — including the contentious rhetoric related to ongoing CBA negotiations — should we ever confuse a league commissioner with the likes of Hitler, Eichmann, Goering, Himmler or Goebbels, and if Amani Toomer couldn’t comprehend that before he opened his big mouth on television, then the NFL has a more serious image issue to worry about than this ongoing lockout mess.
For good measure, another former Giant, George Martin, the head of the Retired Players Association, recently characterized his meeting with NFLPA leadership like “Nuremberg.” Again, what the hell is this man thinking, and when’s the last time he’s read a history textbook? I think the world of George Martin. He walked from the George Washington Bridge to San Diego a few years ago to raise money for ill 9-11 rescue workers and their families. But a tense meeting between former and current union members comes nowhere near the venue for the Nuremberg trials. I visited the US Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington in 1996. I sat for over an hour watching and listening to archived footage of the Nuremberg trials, listening to high-level Nazi war criminals read off lists of murdered Jews like accountants would summarize business expenditures. George Martin’s a reasonably well educated and thoughtful man, yet reverted into blockhead mode as he searched his brain for an extreme metaphor to accelerate the rhetoric.
Martin eventually apologized, as did Mendenhall, but it’s often too-little, too-late. The damage is already done, and claiming your words were taken out of context or you’re sorry if you offended anyone simply rings hollow for the average citizen and fan. If you’re worried about your words coming back to haunt you, perhaps you shouldn’t be posting them in the first place.
There’s a reason why generations of Jews say “Never Again” as we recall and commemorate the Holocaust every spring: the further away from that darkest period of humanity we get, then more we see people forget the events, or worse, misapply buzzwords from that era to describe very comparatively trivial matters as if there’s historical equivalence. There’s not, and never will be during the worst debates on how to divvy up $9 billion in league revenue. Fans shouldn’t have booed Roger Goodell at last week’s draft because the lockout seems stupid and denies everyone their football fix. He should’ve been booed because this lockout brings out the stupidity in all parties of this multibillion dollar industry. The lockout is a battle over money, greed, ego and common sense. It’s not a battle over good-versus-evil, or global persecution, or human dignity.
*********************
I personally have no problem with the lockout by NFL owners. As I’ve said on a few occasions, I side with both the owners and players on several issues with the ongoing CBA negotiations. However, there’s one thing we all need to keep in mind: The NFLPA is not the business partner of the NFL. The players are the employees to the owners, and to demand opening all the financial books for the past ten years as the flash point for decertifying the union and filing class action suits is ridiculous. Let’s not forget the majority of NFL players do not have a college education to fall back on when their playing careers end. These men are going to need some means of income, remaining in the public eye, and maintaining a very inflated and materialistic lifestyle. That money not only comes from television revenue, it comes from ticket sales by wealthy corporations and individuals who can afford luxury suites and PSLs. These wealthy people aren’t necessarily coming to a stadium to watch a football game as much as they’re coming for an experience. Owners like Jerry Jones, Woody Johnson and John Mara have to cater to these folks with new stadiums, new stadiums that cost major money. When these folks come to the stadium and get their money’s worth, they invest back into their favorite teams and players, providing endorsement contracts and other opportunities to help players enhance their “brand” and stay relevant long after they leave the field. We have no idea how much debt these owners are carrying in order to maintain a grand scheme that keeps rich people happy and financially endowed. So, before the NFLPA starts looking through those books, assuming a federal judge orders the books open, DeMaurice Smith and his Executive Board members might want to prepare themselves for just how much they’re responsible for this fiscal house of cards. Don’t be surprised when we finally find out the Emperors on both sides all have no clothes.
Oh, you thought the owners were building stadiums for regular folks like us? Really? If that’s true, ask yourself when’s the last time you heard of a sporting event that didn’t serve sushi, nachos, pizza, and a million other foods not peanuts, popcorn, cotton candy, hot dogs, and pretzels. Seriously, are fans coming to watch a game or eat at Bennigans?
*********************
The late Dave Duerson knew CTE was slowly taking hold of his brain when he committed suicide in February. Neurological researchers at Boston University confirmed what Duerson feared. I cried a little upon hearing the news. I love football and always will. I also know football will ultimately kill me, as if merely crippling me wasn’t enough.
*********************
I was so blessed to visit the Pro Football Hall of Fame this past weekend with my girlfriend. We were in Cleveland for a bat mitzvah and took advantage of free time to drive south to Canton. I wish we had more time to spend there and absorb the history of this sport, especially the room with all the inductee busts, but I’m grateful for the time we did spend and sharing the experience together. If you ever take a trip to Ohio, I highly recommend scheduling time to visit Canton and take in a little history for yourself. It truly was inspirational for me.
*********************
So we’ve endured the three-day NFL Draft, Roger Goodell’s televised extravaganza, and what have we learned, besides the NFL can run a draft during a lockout? First, we’ve learned that Cam Newton, the Heisman Trophy quarterback from Auburn and top pick by the Carolina Panthers, is annoyed at all the doubters and scrutiny. I guess one doesn’t require a thick skin in order to be an “icon and entertainer” at 21 years old. I hope young Mr. Newton’s arm is as prolific as his mouth. He’ll need it while scrambling for his life behind a rebuilding Panthers offensive line.
Four quarterbacks were drafted among the first 12 players taken, including Florida State’s Christian Ponder by the Minnesota Vikings. If you’re wondering why the Vikings chose Ponder as opposed to another name quarterback on the draft board, look no further than his size (6’3”, 227 LBS) and where he played (FSU). As we saw last year for Brett Favre, the Vikings don’t have the best of offensive lines and Vikings quarterbacks were either hitting the deck or running for their lives almost every pass play. It’s clear Tavaris Jackson isn’t the answer and the Vikings believe they need a quarterback who can stand strong and tall in the pocket. Second, no matter how diligent NFL scouts are, the bottom line is that teams are more inclined to draft players from BCS schools, because those players face the stiffest competition leading to the bowl season. In fact, with the exception of the Jets, Bears, Bengals, Dolphins, Colts, Jaguars, Lions, Rams and 49ers, every NFL team drafted at least five players from BCS schools. Notably, 10 of the Redskins 12 draftees were from BCS schools.
As a former Temple Owl, I was quite happy to see the Jets draft defensive tackle Muhammad Wilkerson with the 30th pick and the Eagles draft defensive back Jaiquawn Jarret with the 54th pick.
Of all the quarterbacks drafted, the two I think we should keep the closest eye on are Ricky Stanzi (Iowa), drafted in the fifth round by Kansas City, and Greg McElroy (Alabama), drafted in the seventh round by the Jets. Perhaps neither will be impactful superstars, but they certainly rank high in terms of football intellect and could be very reliable backups and future coaches. So, training camp fans, watch these two young men this summer and think about Dallas Cowboys head coach Jason Garrett at the same time.
Speaking of redheaded quarterbacks, Andy Dalton (TCU) was drafted in the second round by the Bengals. The kid’s a winner and will likely be groomed as the heir apparent to Carson Palmer. Maybe Palmer will be forced to stay in Cincinnati; maybe he’ll force the Bengals to trade him elsewhere (Miami? Minnesota? Arizona?). But if I could offer Palmer some advice, I’d recommend he follow through on his threat and retire while he can still walk. Injuries have taken their toll on a once promising career. Bill Parcells used to say that if you’re talking about retirement you’ve already done so in your mind. For Palmer’s sake and the Bengals sake, it’s time to hang up the cleats and move onto adult life.
*********************
Who honestly believes Jim Tressel will return to Ohio State to coach Buckeyes football after his five-game suspension?
*********************
The Dodgers are broke and taken over by MLB, and Frank McCourt seriously expects he’ll get his team back after a legal challenge? To even equate the mess he and his estranged wife made en route to divorce proceedings with the financial strain the Wilpon family is experiencing with the Mets is ludicrous.
*********************
Are Red Sox and Rays fans still panicking about those awful starts? The last I checked of the AL East standings, the Yankees aren’t running away from the pack, the Rays are above .500, and the Red Sox are close behind.
*********************
Okay, okay... I took some cheap shots at the Indians after opening day weekend. Looks like baseball in Cleveland is going to be good this summer, and that’s great for the entire city and MLB. While in Cleveland this past weekend, we noticed fans in healthy numbers walking up to Progressive Field for a Saturday night game with the Tigers. Just seeing the crowd and energy was a positive sign.
*********************
For those fans of teams struggling, I advise you to take a deep breath and relax. We’re not even at the one-quarter mark of the season, so there’s still lots of baseball to go.
*********************
Strange stats of the MLB season so far: In 2010, the Mets and Pirates had the worst road records in the majors. In 2011, the Mets and Pirates play much better on the road than at home. In 2010, the Padres had one of the best home records in the majors. In 2001, the Padres have the worst home record.
*********************
Minnesota’s Francisco Liriano threw the season’s first no-hitter last night, as the Twins beat the White Sox 1-0. It wasn’t one of your classics, as Liriano walked six and struck out only two. I don’t know which was more surprising: Liriano’s stats or that the Rays somehow weren’t involved with another no-no. Then again, when the AL Central standings are dramatically upside-down, anything’s possible so far.
*********************
Have the Rangers Josh Hamilton and his third base coach finally kissed and made up yet?
So, this is what’s on my mind:
I’m still processing the news that Osama Bin Laden is dead. I really have no reaction whatsoever beyond “Really? Who knew he was still alive?” I never really believed he was hiding in a cave on the Pakistan-Afghanistan border, as common theory was. I frankly figured he was living comfortably with access to the internet and all major news networks, or perhaps he was dead all along and kept propped up in a “Weekend at Bernie’s” fashion by his al Qaeda stooges. As a child of the 1960s, I could certainly be cynical about anything and everything heard or read regarding his demise, but I’m willing to trust our President and military leadership on this. There are things we’re simply not supposed to know when it comes to operations within the bowels of the White House and Pentagon, which is why running this country is hands down the toughest job in the world.
Just like countless others, I have my own personal 9-11 memories and stories, and Sunday night’s news of Bin Laden’s death brought those memories and stories back in numbing fashion. As I flipped my television back and forth between the Mets-Phillies game on ESPN and NBC News, I became quietly reflective listening to Brian Williams on NBC and Bobby Valentine on ESPN. I can honestly say I was in a mental fog through the eleventh and twelfth innings of the game and didn’t even know how to feel after the Mets finally stopped a three-game losing streak with their 2-1 14-inning win. Think about it... How does any intelligent or rationally thinking adult react or feel after such an unusual intersection of events?
This is what makes Monday’s tweets by Steelers running back Rashard Mendenhall so troubling, so stunning. In case you haven’t heard — and I’m slowly catching up on the story myself — Mendenhall made the following tweets:
What kind of person celebrates death? It's amazing how people can HATE a man they have never even heard speak. We've only heard one side...
I believe in God. I believe we're ALL his children. And I believe HE is the ONE and ONLY judge.
Those who judge others, will also be judged themselves.
For those of you who said you want to see Bin Laden burn in hell and piss on his ashes, I ask how would God feel about your heart?
There is not an ignorant bone in my body. I just encourage you to #think
The Steelers immediately distanced themselves from Mendenhall’s comments, and the media — including social media -- backlash is clearly understandable. I personally subscribe to the theory that you don’t dance on your enemy’s grave, but each individual has the right to react and believe as they wish. I also subscribe to the concept of Freedom of Speech. But I also subscribe to the theory that free speech does have limits.
Let’s face it; Osama Bin Laden and 9-11 bring out incredible and understandable emotion from Americans. I’ve said it since 9-11, and I’ve said it since the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq began: Americans have been whipped into a nationalistic frenzy, sometimes bordering on jingoism. I’m not saying this is good or bad, but it’s always struck me as odd and a bit troubling. The “USA” chants seem of a strangely different tone compared to the Cold War days, when an Olympic hockey team of kids stunned the Soviets one February day in 1980. The chants and attitudes seem strangely different compared to the stories I heard from older family members about World War II. The “American Pride” of past decades and global conflicts seemed more genuine than what we have today. In a strange way, I sometimes wonder if the “American Pride” we hear on streets today has the sincerity of drunk Dodgers fans beating that Giants fan into a coma in the parking lot at Chez Ravine. Sure, that sounds harsh, but do you ever ask why some folks are proud to be American, or what America represents for them?
But Mendenhall’s comments leave me to wonder if he actually understands what 9-11 and the war on terror are all about. After all, he’ll be 24 years old in June, meaning he was 14 in September 2001. Is it possible Mendenhall was an oblivious teenager living under a proverbial rock? Is it possible he’s genetically wired to simply never get it? Consider that only mere weeks ago Mendenhall equated the NFL CBA owner-player relationship with slavery prior to the Civil War. Is it possible Mendenhall has never read a legitimate newspaper, much less a history book? Does he ever bother to watch the news?
Oh sure, there are plenty of nut jobs in this country who believe our government orchestrated 9-11, murdering nearly 3,000 of its own citizens in the name of oil or economic benefit, or some other whacko conspiracy theory or hyper-religious doctrine, and these whackos come from all different segments of society. That Rashard Mendenhall is African-American is merely coincidental to the context of this story. However, Mendenhall being a professional football player is very relevant, because once again we see another semi-educated blockhead personifying the very stereotype of the dumb jock having no clue about the real world or the context of information, and having zero ability to verbally express himself without raising questions about his IQ.
As a native New Yorker and former football player myself, I take Mendenhall’s to heart and with great offense. Tony Kornheiser and Michael Wilbon of ESPN’s Pardon the Interruption both raised the concern about Mendenhall using Twitter as a public venue to espouse his ignorance. To be a public figure and be labeled ignorant is not a good combination. Ask Sarah Palin, or Glenn Back, or Rush Limbaugh. When does Charlie Sheen cease becoming entertaining and say just enough to become a pariah like Mel Gibson?
On the other hand, consider what Chris Douglas-Roberts of the Milwaukee Bucks had to say to the New York Daily News:
“Was the search for Bin Laden truly worth so many American military deaths, over so many years? It’s just been very costly for us. When I say us, I mean the United States. We still have people over there. It took 919,967 deaths [and] $1,188,263,000,000 to kill that one guy.”
Maybe hearing my thoughts, and Mendenhall’s thoughts and Douglas-Roberts’ thoughts make us uncomfortable, but when we see our national economy still a mess, unemployment still very high, and the cost of everything skyrocketing while wages remain stagnant for most Americans, you can’t help but wonder why we’re cheering and jumping up and down. While Bin Laden is gone, it’s not like his death was any bargain of the century for us. But as we know, there’s rational thought and then there’s inflammatory rhetoric.
I’m not a public figure, although my 25-year teaching career did impress upon me the importance of watching what I say when I serve a community and earn my salary from taxpayers. I never enjoyed a professional football career like Mendenhall does, but I know the stigma of presumed stupidity because I did spend several years wearing helmet and shoulder pads while pursuing my education. I still remember being told by professors and classmates at the University of South Florida that I didn’t have the smarts to pursue a graduate degree in chemistry when I traded in my playbook for incredibly thick textbooks.
Playing football didn’t make me a dumb person, and I’ll stack my masters degree, doctorate, and 25 years of teaching chemistry and physics against anyone else as proof, thank you very much. But the presumption of stupidity all those years ago put a chip on my shoulder the size of Antarctica that’s never gone away. When members of the National Football League, past and present, demonstrate how ignorant and uneducated they are, it’s a personal affront and embarrassment to me, because I take great pride in my football past, no matter how mediocre I played, just as I take great pride in my educational training and academic career. I don’t believe athletics is an alternative or barrier to becoming an educated person, I’m sick of hearing half-baked insights by members of our sports world, and even sicker of hearing society’s response as “what do you expect from a jock?”
Mendenhall is hardly the only blockhead sharing thoughts while the brain’s disengaged. A couple of weeks ago, former New York Giants wide receiver and current ESPN analyst Amani Toomer called NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell’s player conduct policies “Gestapo tactics.” Although Toomer eventually apologized, once again we’re hearing a member of the NFL family use inappropriate, insulting and miscontextualized terms. Again, did Toomer ever attend a history class or read about World War II? My girlfriend and I both had family members subjected to the horrors of the Nazi regime. We know what it’s like to grow up around people with numbers tattooed on their forearms and emotional scars to last a lifetime. Are Goodell’s policies a bit heavy handed? Perhaps they are, but given the non-stop off-field problems players continue to get into, such policies are a necessary evil. However, under no circumstances — including the contentious rhetoric related to ongoing CBA negotiations — should we ever confuse a league commissioner with the likes of Hitler, Eichmann, Goering, Himmler or Goebbels, and if Amani Toomer couldn’t comprehend that before he opened his big mouth on television, then the NFL has a more serious image issue to worry about than this ongoing lockout mess.
For good measure, another former Giant, George Martin, the head of the Retired Players Association, recently characterized his meeting with NFLPA leadership like “Nuremberg.” Again, what the hell is this man thinking, and when’s the last time he’s read a history textbook? I think the world of George Martin. He walked from the George Washington Bridge to San Diego a few years ago to raise money for ill 9-11 rescue workers and their families. But a tense meeting between former and current union members comes nowhere near the venue for the Nuremberg trials. I visited the US Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington in 1996. I sat for over an hour watching and listening to archived footage of the Nuremberg trials, listening to high-level Nazi war criminals read off lists of murdered Jews like accountants would summarize business expenditures. George Martin’s a reasonably well educated and thoughtful man, yet reverted into blockhead mode as he searched his brain for an extreme metaphor to accelerate the rhetoric.
Martin eventually apologized, as did Mendenhall, but it’s often too-little, too-late. The damage is already done, and claiming your words were taken out of context or you’re sorry if you offended anyone simply rings hollow for the average citizen and fan. If you’re worried about your words coming back to haunt you, perhaps you shouldn’t be posting them in the first place.
There’s a reason why generations of Jews say “Never Again” as we recall and commemorate the Holocaust every spring: the further away from that darkest period of humanity we get, then more we see people forget the events, or worse, misapply buzzwords from that era to describe very comparatively trivial matters as if there’s historical equivalence. There’s not, and never will be during the worst debates on how to divvy up $9 billion in league revenue. Fans shouldn’t have booed Roger Goodell at last week’s draft because the lockout seems stupid and denies everyone their football fix. He should’ve been booed because this lockout brings out the stupidity in all parties of this multibillion dollar industry. The lockout is a battle over money, greed, ego and common sense. It’s not a battle over good-versus-evil, or global persecution, or human dignity.
*********************
I personally have no problem with the lockout by NFL owners. As I’ve said on a few occasions, I side with both the owners and players on several issues with the ongoing CBA negotiations. However, there’s one thing we all need to keep in mind: The NFLPA is not the business partner of the NFL. The players are the employees to the owners, and to demand opening all the financial books for the past ten years as the flash point for decertifying the union and filing class action suits is ridiculous. Let’s not forget the majority of NFL players do not have a college education to fall back on when their playing careers end. These men are going to need some means of income, remaining in the public eye, and maintaining a very inflated and materialistic lifestyle. That money not only comes from television revenue, it comes from ticket sales by wealthy corporations and individuals who can afford luxury suites and PSLs. These wealthy people aren’t necessarily coming to a stadium to watch a football game as much as they’re coming for an experience. Owners like Jerry Jones, Woody Johnson and John Mara have to cater to these folks with new stadiums, new stadiums that cost major money. When these folks come to the stadium and get their money’s worth, they invest back into their favorite teams and players, providing endorsement contracts and other opportunities to help players enhance their “brand” and stay relevant long after they leave the field. We have no idea how much debt these owners are carrying in order to maintain a grand scheme that keeps rich people happy and financially endowed. So, before the NFLPA starts looking through those books, assuming a federal judge orders the books open, DeMaurice Smith and his Executive Board members might want to prepare themselves for just how much they’re responsible for this fiscal house of cards. Don’t be surprised when we finally find out the Emperors on both sides all have no clothes.
Oh, you thought the owners were building stadiums for regular folks like us? Really? If that’s true, ask yourself when’s the last time you heard of a sporting event that didn’t serve sushi, nachos, pizza, and a million other foods not peanuts, popcorn, cotton candy, hot dogs, and pretzels. Seriously, are fans coming to watch a game or eat at Bennigans?
*********************
The late Dave Duerson knew CTE was slowly taking hold of his brain when he committed suicide in February. Neurological researchers at Boston University confirmed what Duerson feared. I cried a little upon hearing the news. I love football and always will. I also know football will ultimately kill me, as if merely crippling me wasn’t enough.
*********************
I was so blessed to visit the Pro Football Hall of Fame this past weekend with my girlfriend. We were in Cleveland for a bat mitzvah and took advantage of free time to drive south to Canton. I wish we had more time to spend there and absorb the history of this sport, especially the room with all the inductee busts, but I’m grateful for the time we did spend and sharing the experience together. If you ever take a trip to Ohio, I highly recommend scheduling time to visit Canton and take in a little history for yourself. It truly was inspirational for me.
*********************
So we’ve endured the three-day NFL Draft, Roger Goodell’s televised extravaganza, and what have we learned, besides the NFL can run a draft during a lockout? First, we’ve learned that Cam Newton, the Heisman Trophy quarterback from Auburn and top pick by the Carolina Panthers, is annoyed at all the doubters and scrutiny. I guess one doesn’t require a thick skin in order to be an “icon and entertainer” at 21 years old. I hope young Mr. Newton’s arm is as prolific as his mouth. He’ll need it while scrambling for his life behind a rebuilding Panthers offensive line.
Four quarterbacks were drafted among the first 12 players taken, including Florida State’s Christian Ponder by the Minnesota Vikings. If you’re wondering why the Vikings chose Ponder as opposed to another name quarterback on the draft board, look no further than his size (6’3”, 227 LBS) and where he played (FSU). As we saw last year for Brett Favre, the Vikings don’t have the best of offensive lines and Vikings quarterbacks were either hitting the deck or running for their lives almost every pass play. It’s clear Tavaris Jackson isn’t the answer and the Vikings believe they need a quarterback who can stand strong and tall in the pocket. Second, no matter how diligent NFL scouts are, the bottom line is that teams are more inclined to draft players from BCS schools, because those players face the stiffest competition leading to the bowl season. In fact, with the exception of the Jets, Bears, Bengals, Dolphins, Colts, Jaguars, Lions, Rams and 49ers, every NFL team drafted at least five players from BCS schools. Notably, 10 of the Redskins 12 draftees were from BCS schools.
As a former Temple Owl, I was quite happy to see the Jets draft defensive tackle Muhammad Wilkerson with the 30th pick and the Eagles draft defensive back Jaiquawn Jarret with the 54th pick.
Of all the quarterbacks drafted, the two I think we should keep the closest eye on are Ricky Stanzi (Iowa), drafted in the fifth round by Kansas City, and Greg McElroy (Alabama), drafted in the seventh round by the Jets. Perhaps neither will be impactful superstars, but they certainly rank high in terms of football intellect and could be very reliable backups and future coaches. So, training camp fans, watch these two young men this summer and think about Dallas Cowboys head coach Jason Garrett at the same time.
Speaking of redheaded quarterbacks, Andy Dalton (TCU) was drafted in the second round by the Bengals. The kid’s a winner and will likely be groomed as the heir apparent to Carson Palmer. Maybe Palmer will be forced to stay in Cincinnati; maybe he’ll force the Bengals to trade him elsewhere (Miami? Minnesota? Arizona?). But if I could offer Palmer some advice, I’d recommend he follow through on his threat and retire while he can still walk. Injuries have taken their toll on a once promising career. Bill Parcells used to say that if you’re talking about retirement you’ve already done so in your mind. For Palmer’s sake and the Bengals sake, it’s time to hang up the cleats and move onto adult life.
*********************
Who honestly believes Jim Tressel will return to Ohio State to coach Buckeyes football after his five-game suspension?
*********************
The Dodgers are broke and taken over by MLB, and Frank McCourt seriously expects he’ll get his team back after a legal challenge? To even equate the mess he and his estranged wife made en route to divorce proceedings with the financial strain the Wilpon family is experiencing with the Mets is ludicrous.
*********************
Are Red Sox and Rays fans still panicking about those awful starts? The last I checked of the AL East standings, the Yankees aren’t running away from the pack, the Rays are above .500, and the Red Sox are close behind.
*********************
Okay, okay... I took some cheap shots at the Indians after opening day weekend. Looks like baseball in Cleveland is going to be good this summer, and that’s great for the entire city and MLB. While in Cleveland this past weekend, we noticed fans in healthy numbers walking up to Progressive Field for a Saturday night game with the Tigers. Just seeing the crowd and energy was a positive sign.
*********************
For those fans of teams struggling, I advise you to take a deep breath and relax. We’re not even at the one-quarter mark of the season, so there’s still lots of baseball to go.
*********************
Strange stats of the MLB season so far: In 2010, the Mets and Pirates had the worst road records in the majors. In 2011, the Mets and Pirates play much better on the road than at home. In 2010, the Padres had one of the best home records in the majors. In 2001, the Padres have the worst home record.
*********************
Minnesota’s Francisco Liriano threw the season’s first no-hitter last night, as the Twins beat the White Sox 1-0. It wasn’t one of your classics, as Liriano walked six and struck out only two. I don’t know which was more surprising: Liriano’s stats or that the Rays somehow weren’t involved with another no-no. Then again, when the AL Central standings are dramatically upside-down, anything’s possible so far.
*********************
Have the Rangers Josh Hamilton and his third base coach finally kissed and made up yet?
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Why do we need a Chemists with Disabilities (CWD) Subdivision? -- Thoughts for the American Chemical Society, April 5, 2011
Introduction:
As someone who’s done more than my fair share of writing for almost thirty years — about science, about education, about sports, and about various other topics — sometimes it’s hard to be witty, cover all the thoughts rattling through my head, and distill it into a neat and tidy piece for reading consumption. So, in the spirit of stream of consciousness, here goes nothing as I offer my very first contribution to the Division of Professional Relations (PROF)...
Do you have a favorite movie, or perhaps a top five (or ten) list? I do! Among my favorite movies happens to be National Lampoon’s Animal House, one of the movies I and many baby Boomers came of age (or aged... or evolved) with. Oh, if you’re unfamiliar with it (yeah, like if you were born after the Beatles broke up), it’s a wonderful movie... Sort of like Rebel without a Cause, but a lot funnier. Anyway, if you’re like me, a baby Boomer stuck in arrested adolescence, you probably recall every scene and every dialogue.
One of my favorite scenes is towards the end of the movie, when the Delta House gang just found out they were expelled from Faber College, and Brother Bluto Blutarsky (played by the late John Belushi) offers these immortal words:
“Over? Did you say ‘over’? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no! And it ain't over now. 'Cause when the goin' gets tough... [pauses to remember the rest of the phrase] ...the tough get goin'! Who's with me? Let's go!”
Granted, that was memorable, but for the purpose of our discussion, let’s consider what Brother Bluto said after running out the front door with no one following him:
“[looking out among his morose fraternity brothers] What the [expletive] happened to the Delta I used to know? Where's the spirit? Where's the guts, huh?”
THAT’S the line I want us to think about when we ask ourselves why we need a Chemists with Disabilities subdivision!
You see, we Baby Boomers used to have spirit and guts, and not just for frat parties, homecoming weekend, or general rebellion. We used to take stands for noble causes, and action when we wanted to lead by example and make a difference in the world. We stuck our necks out when others wouldn’t, especially if we truly believed in something. But that no longer seems to be the case as much as we’ve gotten older and more wrapped up in our immediate worlds and issues, and next generations come along with their own agendas and concerns. In short, we’ve collectively lost our sense of outrage, and now merely shrug at things once guaranteed to make our blood boil.
Sometimes we take for granted what others struggle with on a daily basis, perhaps because we’ve never had to personally struggle before. Consider any disabled member in our chemical profession and in the American Chemical Society. Some disabled people have visual impairments, some have hearing problems, some have physical of neurological impairments, some have emotional or psychiatric issues, and some have learning disabilities. Some disabilities are more visible than others; some are more challenging than others. Any disability can create an additional struggle for a human being, not just a chemist, but in a profession or field of study as intellectually challenging as chemistry, some disabilities can be monumental without appropriate assistance or resources.
What happens if we’re visually-impaired and need others to serve as our eyes, or require adaptive devices, or require modified duties in order to be as successful in our jobs as possible? What happens if we don’t have full control of our arms or legs and require assistance for almost every physical task our gifted minds wish to carry out? What happens if everything we read is so scrambled within our brains that we require hours and hours to disentangle verbal and symbolic information and transform it into a sensible product? What happens if our personal imperfections --- beyond the superficial ones of appearance — dictate our ability to not only perform basic daily functions but to work as a chemist?
Making Sense of Things:
I can’t speak for everyone, but my somewhat large ethnic nose, annoying New York accent, extreme fondness for Beatles music and Mel Brooks movies, or my sometimes blunt and politically incorrect candor hardly inhibit my ability to work as a chemist, or more specifically, a science educator. My limited ability to use my arms and legs, or stand pain-free for more than a few moments, or sit pain-free for more than a short time, however, due to my spinal injury, does. A very good day for me is to be able to take a walk outside using a cane, and not falling and hurting myself. A typical day involves less mobility, more assistive devices, such as a walker, at least one fall and new bruises. I need assistive devices in order to take a shower and get dressed; preparing and eating meals also presents physical challenges, not to mention emotional frustration. A bad day could be spent in a wheelchair or in bed. The sky’s the limit as to my mind’s thoughts and what it wishes to accomplish. My body very often doesn’t work in conjunction with my mind, and in a world where one’s body and its ability to do things is highly taken for granted, my mind is of lesser and lesser value to colleges and universities that could employ me or chemistry students who could still learn from me. The United Negro College Fund used to have commercials with the slogan “A mind is a terrible thing to waste.” I may not be African-American, but my mind has been more than wasted by the academic world in its refusal to employ and support me and my disabled body these past 4-5 years.
My mind knows no intellectual limits despite my acceptance of physical limits. However, I, just like many in the disabled community, live in a world with virtually zero tolerance for any limits. Hey, why not?! In today’s perpetual economic crisis affecting the private, public and academic sectors alike, employment opportunities are at a premium and we’re all led to believe that employers want the biggest “bang for the buck” in terms of hires. Time is money and money is time. Why should employers invest in disabled people needing adaptive devices, work accommodations, and special dispensation for their “issues” when things could get done more efficiently, in terms of time and cost, by able-bodied people who can work in an “as is” environment, work longer hours, take fewer sick days, and impose less on the employee health benefits plan?
It sounds so logical and practical when we view everything as a matter of dollars and cents, doesn’t it? But humans aren’t commodities or currency or fiscal indicators for actuaries, accountants and economists to organize into flowcharts, pie graphs or spreadsheets. Humans are of flesh and blood and dignity. Consider the outrage folks have when adults over 40, women, ethnic minorities, or members of the gay community get short-shrift, shafted and discarded in our national workforce. We hear it all the time... Ageism, sexism, racism, jingoism, homophobia and any other kind of bias the disenfranchised masses can yell out. Funny, but you don’t hear cripple-ism, gimp-ism, blind-ism or deaf-ism much, do we? Hmmm... Wouldn’t THAT make for a juicy litigation involving Wal-Mart?!
In a way, this reminds me of a poem about World War II I’ve known about for many years... In fact, I even included it among the PowerPoint slides for my recent presentation (“Balancing the Americans with Disabilities Act with the academic setting”) at the Anaheim meeting, and now wish to share it with all of my fellow CWD and PROF members:
First They came...
Attributed to Pastor Martin Niemoller (Milton Mayer: They thought they were free. 1955)
First they came for the communists, and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a trade unionist.
Then they came after the Jews, and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a Jew.
Then they came after me, and there was no one left to speak out for me.
Sometimes we tend to forget that the Division of Professional Relations serves all people, and that includes all “special interest” groups — young chemists AND old chemists, women chemists AND male chemists, GLBT chemists AND straight chemists, ethnic minority chemists AND white chemists, and finally, disabled chemists AND able-bodied chemists. We’re really in this together, folks... That’s why ACS is called the American Chemical SOCIETY, not the American Chemical Collection of Assorted Individuals. “Society” implies COMMUNITY, and we’re all part of one large professional community!
Young chemists issues are COMMUNITY issues. Old chemist issues are COMMUNITY issues too, just as women chemist issues, male chemist issues, GLBT chemist issues, ethnic minority chemist issues, and disabled chemist issues. Unfortunately, as the years go by, and we Baby Boomers get a little too settled, satisfied and complacent in life and career, we tend to ignore all the COMMUNITY issues and focus our thoughts on immediate and local issues. And we Baby Boomers aren’t the only guilty ones... The generation that preceded us are guilty, and the generations that followed us are guilty too. Think about it... Why should the old folks care about issues facing the young folks, and vice-versa? Why should chemists in the pharmaceutical industry care about issues facing chemistry students and their teachers? Why should straight chemists care about issues facing GLBT chemists, and so on, and so on?
Duh... Because it’s the right thing to do?! Perhaps if we all care about and stand up for each other’s issues, there will always be someone left to speak out for us when we need professional support? Perhaps it’s possible a similar issue will hit you down the road, and Karma’s not very nice to folks who turn their backs on others? Do I really have to explain to educated professionals that you need to give in order to receive? I honestly hope not, but sometimes I wonder.
It’s funny (not funny ha-ha)... When you have an issue you need support with from ACS, what is it you want to hear from your professional organization and community? Do you want colleagues to empathize with you and “feel your pain”, as former President Bill Clinton was famous for saying, or do you welcome or appreciate hearing:
Well, everyone’s got something going on.
You’re not the only one with problems.
Some people have worse than you.
You know how may stories like this I hear?
We can’t have special rules for everyone’s issues.
What do you expect us to do about it?
If you’re a genuine human being, you definitely prefer the empathy, and maybe a little artificial pity. After all, this is YOUR issue, not anyone else’s or even everyone else’s. Sure, none of us are foolish enough to believe we’re the only one going through a difficult challenge or tough situation, but we also don’t want it trivialized or genericized by others. We’re upset, and in need of support, and dammit, we expect others to be upset on our behalf, or at least upset with us, because that’s part of being human beings within a COMMUNITY. We don’t want to believe we’re all alone in our frustrations, and yet we also don’t want others being tone-deaf to the uniqueness of our challenges or situations.
Put it this way: if you were from special interest group A, and you reached out to special interest group B for support and solidarity towards an issue you hold near and dear to your heart, and special interest group B tells you to take a hike because group B only cares about group B issues, I’m willing to bet when the tables are turned, group A will tell group B to take the same hike. And where does that get us? A whole bunch of special interest groups warring against each other in the name of their own myopic interests. And you know what that sounds like to the average educated person? WASHINGTON, D.C., that’s what! Do we honestly want an ACS that resembles AARP lobbyists pitted against pediatric health care lobbyists, or affluent suburbanites pitted against urban working poor, or constitutionalists (I still can’t tell if these are the Tea Party folks or hyper-caffeinated bigots...) pitted against immigrants?
Is this the ACS or PROF we want to see, where colleagues get up and complain, why do we need all these divisions and subdivisions for a bunch of loopy interests or people?! Let’s just have the ACS like I remember it, plain ol’ chemistry and plain ol’ chemists. Either you can cut being one of us or go be a biologist, for criminy’s sake! If someone in ACS actually still spoke like this, wouldn’t you cringe from embarrassment?!
Implications:
I know this is leaning on the edge of good taste, and I do wish to preface this next thought with the fact that I do have friends, acquaintances and respected colleagues who are women, who are gay, who are ethnic minorities, who are under-40 and who are over-40. Some of these people are very accomplished in their professional careers, including careers very related to chemical literacy. But unless I’m missing something, none of these wonderful people require adaptive devices or any physical workplace accommodations because of their gender, sexual orientation, ethnicity or age (well, give or take stronger magnifying lenses). I hope you get my gentle point, because women, ethnic minorities and homosexuals have spent YEARS convincing the “old guard” in STEM-related professions that they can do the same jobs just as well, if not better, than white men, and I have long supported this (just check my publication record sometime). However, no one ever had to make special beaker tongs for a woman (PLEASE, let’s not debate manicure issues...), a special Bunsen burner for a gay or lesbian person, a special periodic table for African-Americans, or special glassware for Asians or Hispanics.
But we know of modified lab equipment for physically disabled people, if not entire lab stations specifically designed for physically disabled people to perform chemical investigations as safely as possible. Safety for everyone learning, teaching or practicing chemistry is of paramount importance in our profession, but it’s infinitely vital when we include and welcome physically disabled people into the laboratory setting. Although physically disabled people can be of any age, race, ethnicity, male or female, gay or straight — and not to take away from issues of age, race, ethnicity, gender or sexual orientation -- the bottom line is that being physically disabled is a very unique situation for chemical education and the chemistry profession, independent of other demographic information. Just as much as we can’t possibly (or idiotically) have one division or subdivision for “all the people who don’t fit into what chemistry and chemists used to be”, we can’t simply fold disabled chemists into other existing divisions or subdivisions. The needs of disabled chemists would simply not be addressed or met, just as was the case for young chemists, women chemists, GLBT chemists, and ethnic minority chemists. We’re all individuals with unique personal and professional needs, and those needs require a special home where those needs can be focused upon. However, we’re all more than our unique needs and part of a larger community, so we need to complement each other and mutually serve PROF and ACS as a whole.
So for those who wonder why ACS needs so many divisions and subdivisions, and even more new subdivisions, it’s because the face of ACS, and PROF, and the chemical profession are continuously changing... Make that evolving. We’re a community of inclusion and mutual support, and the more our professional community evolves, the more ACS needs to keep pace. Most importantly, ACS and PROF need a CWD subdivision because our subdivision shares the moral obligation to serve and support all ACS members, whether those members are disabled or not. The CWD subdivision maintains “old-time” Baby Boomer values and stands up for others. We invite you to stand with us now, so you never have to worry who will stand with you during your time of need.
As someone who’s done more than my fair share of writing for almost thirty years — about science, about education, about sports, and about various other topics — sometimes it’s hard to be witty, cover all the thoughts rattling through my head, and distill it into a neat and tidy piece for reading consumption. So, in the spirit of stream of consciousness, here goes nothing as I offer my very first contribution to the Division of Professional Relations (PROF)...
Do you have a favorite movie, or perhaps a top five (or ten) list? I do! Among my favorite movies happens to be National Lampoon’s Animal House, one of the movies I and many baby Boomers came of age (or aged... or evolved) with. Oh, if you’re unfamiliar with it (yeah, like if you were born after the Beatles broke up), it’s a wonderful movie... Sort of like Rebel without a Cause, but a lot funnier. Anyway, if you’re like me, a baby Boomer stuck in arrested adolescence, you probably recall every scene and every dialogue.
One of my favorite scenes is towards the end of the movie, when the Delta House gang just found out they were expelled from Faber College, and Brother Bluto Blutarsky (played by the late John Belushi) offers these immortal words:
“Over? Did you say ‘over’? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no! And it ain't over now. 'Cause when the goin' gets tough... [pauses to remember the rest of the phrase] ...the tough get goin'! Who's with me? Let's go!”
Granted, that was memorable, but for the purpose of our discussion, let’s consider what Brother Bluto said after running out the front door with no one following him:
“[looking out among his morose fraternity brothers] What the [expletive] happened to the Delta I used to know? Where's the spirit? Where's the guts, huh?”
THAT’S the line I want us to think about when we ask ourselves why we need a Chemists with Disabilities subdivision!
You see, we Baby Boomers used to have spirit and guts, and not just for frat parties, homecoming weekend, or general rebellion. We used to take stands for noble causes, and action when we wanted to lead by example and make a difference in the world. We stuck our necks out when others wouldn’t, especially if we truly believed in something. But that no longer seems to be the case as much as we’ve gotten older and more wrapped up in our immediate worlds and issues, and next generations come along with their own agendas and concerns. In short, we’ve collectively lost our sense of outrage, and now merely shrug at things once guaranteed to make our blood boil.
Sometimes we take for granted what others struggle with on a daily basis, perhaps because we’ve never had to personally struggle before. Consider any disabled member in our chemical profession and in the American Chemical Society. Some disabled people have visual impairments, some have hearing problems, some have physical of neurological impairments, some have emotional or psychiatric issues, and some have learning disabilities. Some disabilities are more visible than others; some are more challenging than others. Any disability can create an additional struggle for a human being, not just a chemist, but in a profession or field of study as intellectually challenging as chemistry, some disabilities can be monumental without appropriate assistance or resources.
What happens if we’re visually-impaired and need others to serve as our eyes, or require adaptive devices, or require modified duties in order to be as successful in our jobs as possible? What happens if we don’t have full control of our arms or legs and require assistance for almost every physical task our gifted minds wish to carry out? What happens if everything we read is so scrambled within our brains that we require hours and hours to disentangle verbal and symbolic information and transform it into a sensible product? What happens if our personal imperfections --- beyond the superficial ones of appearance — dictate our ability to not only perform basic daily functions but to work as a chemist?
Making Sense of Things:
I can’t speak for everyone, but my somewhat large ethnic nose, annoying New York accent, extreme fondness for Beatles music and Mel Brooks movies, or my sometimes blunt and politically incorrect candor hardly inhibit my ability to work as a chemist, or more specifically, a science educator. My limited ability to use my arms and legs, or stand pain-free for more than a few moments, or sit pain-free for more than a short time, however, due to my spinal injury, does. A very good day for me is to be able to take a walk outside using a cane, and not falling and hurting myself. A typical day involves less mobility, more assistive devices, such as a walker, at least one fall and new bruises. I need assistive devices in order to take a shower and get dressed; preparing and eating meals also presents physical challenges, not to mention emotional frustration. A bad day could be spent in a wheelchair or in bed. The sky’s the limit as to my mind’s thoughts and what it wishes to accomplish. My body very often doesn’t work in conjunction with my mind, and in a world where one’s body and its ability to do things is highly taken for granted, my mind is of lesser and lesser value to colleges and universities that could employ me or chemistry students who could still learn from me. The United Negro College Fund used to have commercials with the slogan “A mind is a terrible thing to waste.” I may not be African-American, but my mind has been more than wasted by the academic world in its refusal to employ and support me and my disabled body these past 4-5 years.
My mind knows no intellectual limits despite my acceptance of physical limits. However, I, just like many in the disabled community, live in a world with virtually zero tolerance for any limits. Hey, why not?! In today’s perpetual economic crisis affecting the private, public and academic sectors alike, employment opportunities are at a premium and we’re all led to believe that employers want the biggest “bang for the buck” in terms of hires. Time is money and money is time. Why should employers invest in disabled people needing adaptive devices, work accommodations, and special dispensation for their “issues” when things could get done more efficiently, in terms of time and cost, by able-bodied people who can work in an “as is” environment, work longer hours, take fewer sick days, and impose less on the employee health benefits plan?
It sounds so logical and practical when we view everything as a matter of dollars and cents, doesn’t it? But humans aren’t commodities or currency or fiscal indicators for actuaries, accountants and economists to organize into flowcharts, pie graphs or spreadsheets. Humans are of flesh and blood and dignity. Consider the outrage folks have when adults over 40, women, ethnic minorities, or members of the gay community get short-shrift, shafted and discarded in our national workforce. We hear it all the time... Ageism, sexism, racism, jingoism, homophobia and any other kind of bias the disenfranchised masses can yell out. Funny, but you don’t hear cripple-ism, gimp-ism, blind-ism or deaf-ism much, do we? Hmmm... Wouldn’t THAT make for a juicy litigation involving Wal-Mart?!
In a way, this reminds me of a poem about World War II I’ve known about for many years... In fact, I even included it among the PowerPoint slides for my recent presentation (“Balancing the Americans with Disabilities Act with the academic setting”) at the Anaheim meeting, and now wish to share it with all of my fellow CWD and PROF members:
First They came...
Attributed to Pastor Martin Niemoller (Milton Mayer: They thought they were free. 1955)
First they came for the communists, and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a trade unionist.
Then they came after the Jews, and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a Jew.
Then they came after me, and there was no one left to speak out for me.
Sometimes we tend to forget that the Division of Professional Relations serves all people, and that includes all “special interest” groups — young chemists AND old chemists, women chemists AND male chemists, GLBT chemists AND straight chemists, ethnic minority chemists AND white chemists, and finally, disabled chemists AND able-bodied chemists. We’re really in this together, folks... That’s why ACS is called the American Chemical SOCIETY, not the American Chemical Collection of Assorted Individuals. “Society” implies COMMUNITY, and we’re all part of one large professional community!
Young chemists issues are COMMUNITY issues. Old chemist issues are COMMUNITY issues too, just as women chemist issues, male chemist issues, GLBT chemist issues, ethnic minority chemist issues, and disabled chemist issues. Unfortunately, as the years go by, and we Baby Boomers get a little too settled, satisfied and complacent in life and career, we tend to ignore all the COMMUNITY issues and focus our thoughts on immediate and local issues. And we Baby Boomers aren’t the only guilty ones... The generation that preceded us are guilty, and the generations that followed us are guilty too. Think about it... Why should the old folks care about issues facing the young folks, and vice-versa? Why should chemists in the pharmaceutical industry care about issues facing chemistry students and their teachers? Why should straight chemists care about issues facing GLBT chemists, and so on, and so on?
Duh... Because it’s the right thing to do?! Perhaps if we all care about and stand up for each other’s issues, there will always be someone left to speak out for us when we need professional support? Perhaps it’s possible a similar issue will hit you down the road, and Karma’s not very nice to folks who turn their backs on others? Do I really have to explain to educated professionals that you need to give in order to receive? I honestly hope not, but sometimes I wonder.
It’s funny (not funny ha-ha)... When you have an issue you need support with from ACS, what is it you want to hear from your professional organization and community? Do you want colleagues to empathize with you and “feel your pain”, as former President Bill Clinton was famous for saying, or do you welcome or appreciate hearing:
Well, everyone’s got something going on.
You’re not the only one with problems.
Some people have worse than you.
You know how may stories like this I hear?
We can’t have special rules for everyone’s issues.
What do you expect us to do about it?
If you’re a genuine human being, you definitely prefer the empathy, and maybe a little artificial pity. After all, this is YOUR issue, not anyone else’s or even everyone else’s. Sure, none of us are foolish enough to believe we’re the only one going through a difficult challenge or tough situation, but we also don’t want it trivialized or genericized by others. We’re upset, and in need of support, and dammit, we expect others to be upset on our behalf, or at least upset with us, because that’s part of being human beings within a COMMUNITY. We don’t want to believe we’re all alone in our frustrations, and yet we also don’t want others being tone-deaf to the uniqueness of our challenges or situations.
Put it this way: if you were from special interest group A, and you reached out to special interest group B for support and solidarity towards an issue you hold near and dear to your heart, and special interest group B tells you to take a hike because group B only cares about group B issues, I’m willing to bet when the tables are turned, group A will tell group B to take the same hike. And where does that get us? A whole bunch of special interest groups warring against each other in the name of their own myopic interests. And you know what that sounds like to the average educated person? WASHINGTON, D.C., that’s what! Do we honestly want an ACS that resembles AARP lobbyists pitted against pediatric health care lobbyists, or affluent suburbanites pitted against urban working poor, or constitutionalists (I still can’t tell if these are the Tea Party folks or hyper-caffeinated bigots...) pitted against immigrants?
Is this the ACS or PROF we want to see, where colleagues get up and complain, why do we need all these divisions and subdivisions for a bunch of loopy interests or people?! Let’s just have the ACS like I remember it, plain ol’ chemistry and plain ol’ chemists. Either you can cut being one of us or go be a biologist, for criminy’s sake! If someone in ACS actually still spoke like this, wouldn’t you cringe from embarrassment?!
Implications:
I know this is leaning on the edge of good taste, and I do wish to preface this next thought with the fact that I do have friends, acquaintances and respected colleagues who are women, who are gay, who are ethnic minorities, who are under-40 and who are over-40. Some of these people are very accomplished in their professional careers, including careers very related to chemical literacy. But unless I’m missing something, none of these wonderful people require adaptive devices or any physical workplace accommodations because of their gender, sexual orientation, ethnicity or age (well, give or take stronger magnifying lenses). I hope you get my gentle point, because women, ethnic minorities and homosexuals have spent YEARS convincing the “old guard” in STEM-related professions that they can do the same jobs just as well, if not better, than white men, and I have long supported this (just check my publication record sometime). However, no one ever had to make special beaker tongs for a woman (PLEASE, let’s not debate manicure issues...), a special Bunsen burner for a gay or lesbian person, a special periodic table for African-Americans, or special glassware for Asians or Hispanics.
But we know of modified lab equipment for physically disabled people, if not entire lab stations specifically designed for physically disabled people to perform chemical investigations as safely as possible. Safety for everyone learning, teaching or practicing chemistry is of paramount importance in our profession, but it’s infinitely vital when we include and welcome physically disabled people into the laboratory setting. Although physically disabled people can be of any age, race, ethnicity, male or female, gay or straight — and not to take away from issues of age, race, ethnicity, gender or sexual orientation -- the bottom line is that being physically disabled is a very unique situation for chemical education and the chemistry profession, independent of other demographic information. Just as much as we can’t possibly (or idiotically) have one division or subdivision for “all the people who don’t fit into what chemistry and chemists used to be”, we can’t simply fold disabled chemists into other existing divisions or subdivisions. The needs of disabled chemists would simply not be addressed or met, just as was the case for young chemists, women chemists, GLBT chemists, and ethnic minority chemists. We’re all individuals with unique personal and professional needs, and those needs require a special home where those needs can be focused upon. However, we’re all more than our unique needs and part of a larger community, so we need to complement each other and mutually serve PROF and ACS as a whole.
So for those who wonder why ACS needs so many divisions and subdivisions, and even more new subdivisions, it’s because the face of ACS, and PROF, and the chemical profession are continuously changing... Make that evolving. We’re a community of inclusion and mutual support, and the more our professional community evolves, the more ACS needs to keep pace. Most importantly, ACS and PROF need a CWD subdivision because our subdivision shares the moral obligation to serve and support all ACS members, whether those members are disabled or not. The CWD subdivision maintains “old-time” Baby Boomer values and stands up for others. We invite you to stand with us now, so you never have to worry who will stand with you during your time of need.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Mazal tov and other thoughts from Rosh Ha-Baseball Weekend... Sports Thoughts for April 4, 2011
Ever blink and miss an entire month? Welcome to my March!
Well, here we are, springtime, April, the month of showers for future flowers, about to crown new men’s and women’s NCAA basketball champs (on top of NIT, CIT, CBI and CIA champs... I made up the last one to see if you’re paying attention), and snow in the Midwest and northeast. But somehow, just like every spring, major league baseball teams return from Grapefruit and Cactus League camps and begin to entertain us with a six-month regular season of hope springing eternal and rabid fans calling their local sports radio stations to vent a spleen on a daily basis.
Anyway, in case you were too engrossed in the Final Four, traveling to research conferences, shopping for Passover or Easter, or making sense of the new movie Hop, this past weekend offered us MLB Opening Day with all the bunting and hoopla for 15 hosting teams, while 15 other teams wait for their opportunity to play before their own fans. But baseball is finally here, and even the most pessimistic fan knows that all 30 teams begins with a clean slate and bright days ahead at the ol’ ballpark.
Where did I come up with “Rosh Ha-Baseball”? Well, on Wednesday, one of my all-time favorite sportscasters, Len Berman, sent out this thought in his “Daily Top 5”:
Happy "New Year's Eve." Baseball season begins tomorrow.
My response? So is tomorrow Rosh Ha-Baseball? Hopefully you don’t have to be Jewish to get it...
Anyway... So what’s caught your eye and fancy during the first weekend of the 2011 MLB season? Have you made your predictions yet for the World Series, Cy Young, MVP, and Rookie of the Year? Are your predictions etched in stone or do you allow yourself unlimited times to edit and waffle as the roller coaster rhythm of the season goes on? I’m not making any predictions this year until I see enough of the season, thank you. Check back with me around Memorial Day, July 4th, and Labor Day.
But a dozen things have already caught my attention:
1. The defending World Series champs, the San Francisco Giants, started their season in Los Angeles, rather than at home. Gee... You’d think the geniuses at MLB would’ve figured out a way to schedule the World Series champs to open at home, in Candlestick Park, especially when the Giants and Dodgers play the first Sunday Night game on ESPN? Is the story the Giants defending their crown or how the Dodgers will function under new manager Don Mattingly while the ownership is still being sorted out in divorce court?
2. After the very first game, two Dodgers fans beat a Giants fan so badly in the parking lot of Chavez Ravine he’s now in hospital with a fractured skull and brain swelling, a lousy note for all who love baseball. Not to be crass, but it seems folks in Los Angeles have a reputation for bashing in heads, don’t they? Rodney King, Reginald Denny... Odd coincidence? Certainly takes away some of that L.A. classiness.
3. For those with fond memories of past golden eras in baseball, it was both touching and sad to see tributes by the Cleveland Indians, Chicago Cubs, Pittsburgh Pirates, Dodgers, Cincinnati Reds and Detroit Tigers for the recently-departed Bob Feller, Ron Santo, Chuck Tanner, Duke Snider and Sparky Anderson, five of the classiest members of MLB history many of us might’ve known.
4. As for the Indians, it was noted by USA TODAY that Friday’s starter, Fausto Carmona, was 7-0 with a 2.82 ERA in his last seven starts versus the Chicago White Sox. In case you didn’t notice Friday’s box score, the White Sox won 15-10. Carmona’s line score? 10 earned runs on 11 hits in three innings. Guess eight isn’t a lucky number...
5. It’s supposed to be cold in Cleveland; in fact, the Indians’ ground crew had to clean snow off the field prior to Friday’s game. You’d expect runs to come at a premium, right? Well, Friday’s game was 15-10, Saturday’s was 8-3 (also won by the White Sox), and Sunday’s was 7-1 (won by the Tribe). I’d say 44 combined runs in three days says enough about cold bats and cold weather, don’t you?
6. If the Indians are as bad as they’re projected and as they played during the opening weekend series, will it be long before we see Charlie Sheen appears in his Major League role of Ricky Vaughn? Sounds like a WINNING proposition, especially with negotiations underway to make Major League 4. If reviews about his traveling comedy act were truly accurate, perhaps Charlie Goodtime SHOULD consider suiting up and joining the Tribe’s bullpen.
7. Do you really think the cure to Yankees first baseman Mark Teixeira’s notorious slow starts are as simple as opening the season March 31st? Sure, 4 hits in 12 at bats, 3 homeruns, and 7 RBIs is a nice way to open things, but April does have 30 days, you know. I know, I know... It’s more fun to talk about Teixeira being on pace for 162 homeruns than the fact that the Yankees pitching staff gave up 19 runs this weekend at the Stadium to the Tigers. Psst, psst... Should we mention the Yankees and Mets are both 2-1 after the opening weekend and tied for second place in their divisions? Just wanted to remind folks New York DOES have two major league baseball teams.
8. Let me get this straight... The Yankees have been directed by MLB not to give hand signals to batters from the stands during games? Hey, sometimes coaching has to be creative when you pare down your payroll to $203M! Of course, what Yankees fans should find most galling is that their front office is now associated with an offense one attributes only to professional sports teams northeast of I-87 (feel free to debate UConn basketball being a professional sports team, men’s and women’s).
9. Speaking of Belichickery and Boston, are the New York Daily News and Bergen Record going to spend all summer yammering about the Yankees being “underdog” to the Red Sox? C’mon... When you have two teams operating payrolls with Monopoly money, the AL East favorite is really just a matter of #1 and #1A, right? I mean, really! No wonder Buck Showalter’s Orioles are more worthwhile to root for. They’re already off to a 3-0 start, sweeping the Rays in Tampa.
10. If you’re looking for omens, consider the Red Sox, Rays, Brewers and Astros are the only winless teams after the season’s first weekend, while the Orioles, Rangers, Reds and Phillies are the remaining unbeatens. Oh, and not for nothing, but before we carry on too much about Yankees pitchers serving up 19 runs to the Tigers this past weekend, did anyone notice Red Sox pitchers served up 26 runs and 11 homeruns to the Rangers while being swept in Arlington? Yeah, let’s just keep making automatic presumptions about the AL East...
11. The ghost of Braden Looper?! Is there something rather eerie about Opening Day at home for the Cincinnati Reds and ninth-inning comebacks? Watching the Brewers bullpen meltdown and Ramon Hernandez’s walk-off three-run homer reminded me an awful lot like Opening Day 2005, when the Mets bullpen ruined the debut of Pedro Martinez. Yes, Mets fans... Time DOES fly! Hmmm... Do you think all those on the “Brewers could shock the world” bandwagon a few days ago might be rethinking their optimism, especially for a pitching staff that served up 23 runs, including 8 homeruns?
12. Did you catch Carl Pavano’s Opening Day performance Friday in Toronto against the Blue Jays? Four innings, 7 earned runs, 3 homeruns given up in a 13-3 loss. I don’t want to sound like a conspiracy theorist, but he did sign a nice multi-year contract after an excellent season last year (17-11, 221 innings pitched, 3.73 ERA) for the Twins. Does anyone want to weigh in on the amount of facial hair he’s sporting? Last year he did have that Rollie Fingers mojo going for him, so who knows what Pavano and his razor might do to mess things up. Perhaps Yankees fans might wish to weigh in on this phenomenon?
See how you can talk about baseball without any mention of Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, or Bernie Madoff? Let’s see how long we can keep it that way and truly enjoy this season!
Well, here we are, springtime, April, the month of showers for future flowers, about to crown new men’s and women’s NCAA basketball champs (on top of NIT, CIT, CBI and CIA champs... I made up the last one to see if you’re paying attention), and snow in the Midwest and northeast. But somehow, just like every spring, major league baseball teams return from Grapefruit and Cactus League camps and begin to entertain us with a six-month regular season of hope springing eternal and rabid fans calling their local sports radio stations to vent a spleen on a daily basis.
Anyway, in case you were too engrossed in the Final Four, traveling to research conferences, shopping for Passover or Easter, or making sense of the new movie Hop, this past weekend offered us MLB Opening Day with all the bunting and hoopla for 15 hosting teams, while 15 other teams wait for their opportunity to play before their own fans. But baseball is finally here, and even the most pessimistic fan knows that all 30 teams begins with a clean slate and bright days ahead at the ol’ ballpark.
Where did I come up with “Rosh Ha-Baseball”? Well, on Wednesday, one of my all-time favorite sportscasters, Len Berman, sent out this thought in his “Daily Top 5”:
Happy "New Year's Eve." Baseball season begins tomorrow.
My response? So is tomorrow Rosh Ha-Baseball? Hopefully you don’t have to be Jewish to get it...
Anyway... So what’s caught your eye and fancy during the first weekend of the 2011 MLB season? Have you made your predictions yet for the World Series, Cy Young, MVP, and Rookie of the Year? Are your predictions etched in stone or do you allow yourself unlimited times to edit and waffle as the roller coaster rhythm of the season goes on? I’m not making any predictions this year until I see enough of the season, thank you. Check back with me around Memorial Day, July 4th, and Labor Day.
But a dozen things have already caught my attention:
1. The defending World Series champs, the San Francisco Giants, started their season in Los Angeles, rather than at home. Gee... You’d think the geniuses at MLB would’ve figured out a way to schedule the World Series champs to open at home, in Candlestick Park, especially when the Giants and Dodgers play the first Sunday Night game on ESPN? Is the story the Giants defending their crown or how the Dodgers will function under new manager Don Mattingly while the ownership is still being sorted out in divorce court?
2. After the very first game, two Dodgers fans beat a Giants fan so badly in the parking lot of Chavez Ravine he’s now in hospital with a fractured skull and brain swelling, a lousy note for all who love baseball. Not to be crass, but it seems folks in Los Angeles have a reputation for bashing in heads, don’t they? Rodney King, Reginald Denny... Odd coincidence? Certainly takes away some of that L.A. classiness.
3. For those with fond memories of past golden eras in baseball, it was both touching and sad to see tributes by the Cleveland Indians, Chicago Cubs, Pittsburgh Pirates, Dodgers, Cincinnati Reds and Detroit Tigers for the recently-departed Bob Feller, Ron Santo, Chuck Tanner, Duke Snider and Sparky Anderson, five of the classiest members of MLB history many of us might’ve known.
4. As for the Indians, it was noted by USA TODAY that Friday’s starter, Fausto Carmona, was 7-0 with a 2.82 ERA in his last seven starts versus the Chicago White Sox. In case you didn’t notice Friday’s box score, the White Sox won 15-10. Carmona’s line score? 10 earned runs on 11 hits in three innings. Guess eight isn’t a lucky number...
5. It’s supposed to be cold in Cleveland; in fact, the Indians’ ground crew had to clean snow off the field prior to Friday’s game. You’d expect runs to come at a premium, right? Well, Friday’s game was 15-10, Saturday’s was 8-3 (also won by the White Sox), and Sunday’s was 7-1 (won by the Tribe). I’d say 44 combined runs in three days says enough about cold bats and cold weather, don’t you?
6. If the Indians are as bad as they’re projected and as they played during the opening weekend series, will it be long before we see Charlie Sheen appears in his Major League role of Ricky Vaughn? Sounds like a WINNING proposition, especially with negotiations underway to make Major League 4. If reviews about his traveling comedy act were truly accurate, perhaps Charlie Goodtime SHOULD consider suiting up and joining the Tribe’s bullpen.
7. Do you really think the cure to Yankees first baseman Mark Teixeira’s notorious slow starts are as simple as opening the season March 31st? Sure, 4 hits in 12 at bats, 3 homeruns, and 7 RBIs is a nice way to open things, but April does have 30 days, you know. I know, I know... It’s more fun to talk about Teixeira being on pace for 162 homeruns than the fact that the Yankees pitching staff gave up 19 runs this weekend at the Stadium to the Tigers. Psst, psst... Should we mention the Yankees and Mets are both 2-1 after the opening weekend and tied for second place in their divisions? Just wanted to remind folks New York DOES have two major league baseball teams.
8. Let me get this straight... The Yankees have been directed by MLB not to give hand signals to batters from the stands during games? Hey, sometimes coaching has to be creative when you pare down your payroll to $203M! Of course, what Yankees fans should find most galling is that their front office is now associated with an offense one attributes only to professional sports teams northeast of I-87 (feel free to debate UConn basketball being a professional sports team, men’s and women’s).
9. Speaking of Belichickery and Boston, are the New York Daily News and Bergen Record going to spend all summer yammering about the Yankees being “underdog” to the Red Sox? C’mon... When you have two teams operating payrolls with Monopoly money, the AL East favorite is really just a matter of #1 and #1A, right? I mean, really! No wonder Buck Showalter’s Orioles are more worthwhile to root for. They’re already off to a 3-0 start, sweeping the Rays in Tampa.
10. If you’re looking for omens, consider the Red Sox, Rays, Brewers and Astros are the only winless teams after the season’s first weekend, while the Orioles, Rangers, Reds and Phillies are the remaining unbeatens. Oh, and not for nothing, but before we carry on too much about Yankees pitchers serving up 19 runs to the Tigers this past weekend, did anyone notice Red Sox pitchers served up 26 runs and 11 homeruns to the Rangers while being swept in Arlington? Yeah, let’s just keep making automatic presumptions about the AL East...
11. The ghost of Braden Looper?! Is there something rather eerie about Opening Day at home for the Cincinnati Reds and ninth-inning comebacks? Watching the Brewers bullpen meltdown and Ramon Hernandez’s walk-off three-run homer reminded me an awful lot like Opening Day 2005, when the Mets bullpen ruined the debut of Pedro Martinez. Yes, Mets fans... Time DOES fly! Hmmm... Do you think all those on the “Brewers could shock the world” bandwagon a few days ago might be rethinking their optimism, especially for a pitching staff that served up 23 runs, including 8 homeruns?
12. Did you catch Carl Pavano’s Opening Day performance Friday in Toronto against the Blue Jays? Four innings, 7 earned runs, 3 homeruns given up in a 13-3 loss. I don’t want to sound like a conspiracy theorist, but he did sign a nice multi-year contract after an excellent season last year (17-11, 221 innings pitched, 3.73 ERA) for the Twins. Does anyone want to weigh in on the amount of facial hair he’s sporting? Last year he did have that Rollie Fingers mojo going for him, so who knows what Pavano and his razor might do to mess things up. Perhaps Yankees fans might wish to weigh in on this phenomenon?
See how you can talk about baseball without any mention of Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, or Bernie Madoff? Let’s see how long we can keep it that way and truly enjoy this season!
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