COME ON, AMERICA. TAKE WHAT YOU CAN GET

We Americans have a strange way of rationalizing our habit of wanting more. It’s why our credit card balances are often equal to the GDPs of some small European countries and our collective ability to think in terms of the future often doesn’t extend beyond the doughnut. 

“I’ll take care of it later.” 

            And later.

            Until…

            Well, you know.

            We want more leisure time.  More money. More things. More comfort. More ease. That’s why, when an American says something along the lines of, “When this is over, I will never fail to appreciate (family/good health/what I have/cold beer) again,” the rest of the world shakes its head. Yes, U.S. citizen, you are going to fail in that humble pursuit, because you want more.

            Back in March, when the world of sports closed its doors like an angry homeowner driving away a solicitor, we mourned the lack of programming. We craved competition. We wanted to talk sports. Watch sports. Gamble on sports. And we let everyone know that it didn’t matter what format sports took when they returned, we were going to be delighted and even satisfied. Fans or no fans. Shortened seasons. Odd playoff formats. The espn NBA pre-game show. The Mets. We didn’t care. Just give us the goods.

            Well, here we are, on the precipice of sports’ – and golf’s – return, and we are already bemoaning some of the compromises we will have to make in order to enjoy professional (we’ll get to the colleges at a later date) athletics. Turns out those involved in the fun and games are a bit confused about the whole thing, too. 

            The strange part of it is that we should be welcoming back sports in any format we can get them. If you have been forced to go without beer for a few months, and someone offers you a Natty Light, are you going to turn it down and wait for a delicious Toadstool IPA, with hints of toe jam, cauliflower and mulch? Let’s hope not. Grab the Natty and be happy about it. 

            But that’s not how we roll in the old USA. We want what we want, when we want it. Right now, that’s no way to be. So, if the NBA proposes a playoff format that combines the group stage of the World Cup, the NCAA Tournament and Family Feud, don’t complain. Enjoy the basketball and try to figure out how the league and its propaganda partners are going to help Zion Williamson get as far as possible in the competition. If the NHL is going to exclude seven teams – especially the execrable Dead Things – from its revival, so be it. Was anybody really hankering to watch an Ottawa-San Jose showdown in an empty arena, in July? Come to think of it, would anybody want to see that in February in front of a packed house? 

            These are the strangest times for sports anybody has ever encountered. Baseball players won’t be allowed to spit. NBA stars may have to make their trash-talk G-rated, the better to prevent profane slurs about opponents’ families from being caught by microphones in silent arenas. And if two hockey players drop the gloves without a bloodthirsty crowd cheering them on, will they still throw down, or will they merely consent to mediation to settle their differences? 

            It’s going to be a long time before everything looks normal again. Packed houses are way off in the future. But there will be some real competition involving the best players in the world soon, and there had better not be any whining about formats or social distancing in dugouts or quarantining those who test positive for coronavirus. It’s time to take what we can get. El Hombre knows that’s not easy for us, because we are supposed to get whatever we want, and for those with Amazon Prime, get it in two days or less. All of that will return. It just isn’t coming back this summer. Or this fall, for that matter. It may not even occur in the winter. But just as life returned to normal after the 1918 Spanish Flu pandemic, which preceded the Roaring Twenties and sports’ first Golden Age, we will once again have the opportunity to pay too much for tickets, spend $14 bucks on a 12-ounce beer, high-five the people seated around us and go to the bathroom at games whenever we want. 

            Those watching at home will get the same made-for-TV spectacles they are used to seeing. Eventually. For now, we are going to have to adopt a word that has disappeared from our vernacular and certainly from our behavior: compromise. We must take what is given to us and like it. And the first one who complains will be forced to watch an unending stream of Marlins games, in the type of setup the Minister of Interior used to disabuse Alex DeLarge of his ultraviolence predilection. Sports are coming back, probably in a format that isn’t perfect or that you do not like. Enjoy them as they are, even if that feels positively un-American.

* * *

            EL HOMBRE SEZ: Anybody who thought the sanitized version of Michael Jordan’s response to the idea of Isiah Thomas’ playing on the 1992 Olympic “Dream Team” was true should contact El Hombre about purchasing the large tract of land he owns on Mercury. Jordan didn’t want Thomas on the team, and the recent airing of Jack McCallum’s 2011 recording of Jordan’s comments saying he wouldn’t play if Thomas was chosen proves it. It’s just another reason why people should consider “The Last Dance” a fine piece of entertainment but hardly a reliable bit of historical matter…As dozens of players continue to flood the transfer portal, the NC2A is allowing players to make money off their names, images and likenesses, and prep players are heading to the G League for a season of exhibition games before moving on to the NBA, a prominent D-I coach warns of “unintended consequences” from the increased opportunities for players. Such as? How about locker room discontent over which players get the nicest cars or biggest appearance fees from local merchants? Or a lack of development for those G-Leaguers, who won’t play in a game that really matters all year? It’s great that players have more rights, but it’s going to take some time to make sure this all works well…There is talk that 53-year old Mike Tyson, whose recent social media posts show him looking fit and powerful, could fight Evander Holyfield, 57, with proceeds going to charity. It would be the boxers’ third meeting in the ring and is definitely something Tyson considers, ahem, appetizing…Next month, UConn will cut multiple sports from its athletic department, due to significant financial losses, and it will blame the coronavirus for the move. The real culprit is a rotten football program that has gone 6-30 the past three seasons and has been hemorrhaging money for most of the decade. The Huskies have a diminutive fan base, little-to-no tradition and a recruiting base that hardly produces a collection of five-star recruits. (Or four-stars. Or…) Still, the school has kept up the charade of a running an FBS program, and now it must cut other sports to support a huge budget chasm for a program that will never be any good. What a joke.

* * *

            YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The releases of Todd Zolecki’s new book and John Barr’s documentary about late Phillies pitcher Roy Halladay devote considerable attention to his addiction, depression and physical pain, painting compelling portraits of the star’s struggles. It isn’t difficult to see how all of those circumstances contributed to his tragic death, and it’s highly unlikely Philadelphia fans will look on his life with anything other than compassion. Let’s hope these glimpses of Halladay’s experiences help others understand that monsters like addiction and depression afflict many other people and that their impacts manifest themselves in many different ways, some of which are disruptive and potentially harmful to others. Halladay will be viewed sentimentally because of his significant contributions to the Philly sports scene, but it’s important that fans provide the same concern and understanding for other athletes (and everybody else fighting with these powerful foes) when they encounter setbacks due to their vulnerabilities in these situations. Halladay’s time with the Phillies was outstanding, and he was the consummate ace, whose work ethic and tenacity endeared him to local fans. The revelations about his battles with addiction and depression should help us develop empathy for others in the same situations.

* * *

            AND ANOTHER THING: Sunday’s golf match between the Eldrick Woods and Phil Mickelson-led teams was pretty darn entertaining, especially when Dreamy Tom split his pants holing a wedge shot on the seventh. The competition was fun, and so was the banter between the players and commentators, particularly – of course – Charles Barkley. In regard to Brady, it has been amusing to see how tightly the media holds onto aging stars. As the new Tampa Bay QB cavorts around the Gulf Coast, entering houses by mistake and holding unsanctioned workouts, the praise for him is unrelenting. It’s nearly impossible to find a voice questioning the Buccaneers’ decision to sign him, and people are throwing down some Real Money on the Bucs to win the Super Bowl. That’s borderline insane. Not only does the team still have issues along the offensive line, its secondary remains shaky. And then there is Brady, who completed a pedestrian 60.8 percent of his throws last year, which was ahead of only five other full-time starters, and posted a QB rating of 88.0. That tied him with Indy’s Jacoby Brissett, who lost his job during the off-season to Philip Rivers, whose 88.5 rating in ’19 wasn’t spectacular, either. Brady will turn 43 in August and is clearly not the QB he was even two years ago. Tampa Bay fans should be happy the team has upgraded from Jameis Winsterception, but it would be nice if the media showed a bit of objectivity in assessing Brady’s 2020 prospects. 

                                                                   -EH-