EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
For a lot of people, the Winter Olympics consist primarily of hundreds of anonymous people with too many consonants in their names hurtling down frozen patches of earth in a collective attempt to avoid serious injury. Maddening cowbells and silly horns provide a cacophonous soundtrack to the outdoor insanity, and when the action moves inside, fans can count on gushing skating commentators and curling analysts talking about a sport that few understand. To many, the saving grace is ice hockey that actually means something, substituting for that mid-season clash between the Predators and Blue Jackets.
Welcome to Vancouver, 2010.
That, of course, is an oversimplified view of the Games, which debut Friday and will for two weeks provide NBC and its sister networks with some programming people will actually want to watch. There will be some compelling theater, as there is whenever elite athletes gather. The problem is that U.S. competitors can be eliminated right now from medal contention in dozens of events, including mostly anything with a sled, ski or gun. Oh, Lindsay Vonn ought to have strong showings in the downhill and something called the super giant slalom, provided the painkillers work, and there’s a chance the two-woman bobsled team of Shauna Rohbock and Michelle Rzepka could find its way onto the medal stand. But if you want to wave the Stars and Stripes proudly and tear up as a countryman (or woman) accepts a medal, better pay attention to the skating and X Games events, which seem to have been added just to pump up the U.S. win total.
With all of that in mind, here are a few storylines to consider before the flame is lit.
White Out: Looks like they should have held the Olympics in Washington D.C., since the nation’s capital has endured something like 300 inches of snow in the last five days, while Vancouver has to truck the stuff in from Saskatoon. They’ll be able to freeze up the downhill with no problems, but the freestyle crowd might have some sloppy conditions. Like, bummer, dude.
Stone Groove: Nobody really understands curling, but after the Turin Games in ’06, everybody was talking about it. Usually, the only time we hear about big stones moving is during an avalanche, so it’s refreshing to see them being controlled, albeit by frenzied sweepers, as thousands of Europeans cheer the come-arounds and double-takeouts and hope the Schnapps doesn’t run out if there are extra ends.
Skeleton Crew: Bobsled is crazy, and luge is nuts. But for true lunacy, check out skeleton, in which adrenalin junkies endure 5Gs of force while careering down an icy tunnel at up to 60 mph on a piece of steel and plastic that has no steering mechanism or brakes. What’s next, being shot out of a cannon down the bobsled run?
National Pride: There is no truth to the rumor that if the Canadian men’s hockey team doesn’t win the gold medal, its members will be summarily executed by a group of deranged Mounties. But should the home team fail, there will no doubt be pitchforks and torches outside the team hotel. And should the Russians apply the final indignity, expect the country to slip into a depression that no amount of Molson and back bacon can cure.
Vonn-derful World: Lindsey Vonn had everything in place for the perfect 21st century Olympic bonanza. She had the suggestive SI cover, the appearance in the same magazine’s swimsuit extravaganza, more endorsements than Air Jordan had in his prime and a strong resume. All she needed were some gold medals around her neck, and she was headed for Phelpstown – without the bong. But along came a minor distract-shin. Vonn’s pre-Olympic shin injury has threatened it all and could send her back to the anonymity of the European ski circuit and its Tyrolean cowbell ringers. Vonn had better find a magical elixir for the injury, before Americans find some cute, young figure skater upon whom they can shower their affection and dollars.
Dopes: The first blade hasn’t even been put to ice in earnest, and already up to 30 athletes have been disqualified from the Games for positive tests for performance-enhancing drugs. Unbelievable. Vancouver tries to stage the Olympics, and a late-‘90s baseball game breaks out. It would be tempting to see whether one of the cheats is Balco Bonds, but he is likely in the clear, since it would impossible to find equipment that would fit him. Imagine how big his bobsled helmet would have to be. And no company makes skis long enough for his unnaturally huge feet. The names of the offenders have not been released, so rumors that every one is a member of a former Eastern Bloc country can’t be substantiated.
Blades of Glory: The featured events of the Olympics, at least for those who pay little attention to sports the other three-
plus years of the Games’ cycle, are the figure skating competitions. While other competitions are sponsored by sports drinks, cars and beer, skating’s commercial roster includes Dove Moisturizing System II, Monistat 21st Century and Massengill Fruit Sensations. There’s nothing better than a bunch of guys in tuxedos gushing over Svetlana’s triple salchow and then waiting anxiously to find out whether the miserable French judge is still furious over having her Olympic hopes dashed back in Innsbruck. Skating is shown in prime time, is treated like a debutante ball and pulls in huge ratings. Expect the Russians and Asians to dominate and pray that this is the year one of the men’s pairs competitors actually launches his partner over the boards during the freestyle competition.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: St. Louis Cardinals officials announced earlier this week that new hitting coach Muscles McGwire will answer no questions about the PEDs he pumped into his system while shattering records and ruining baseball’s reputation. Fine. Here’s a request for no media member to speak to him, write about him or mention his name on TV or radio. If he’s trying to sanitize his name for future Hall of Fame consideration (Ha!), let him do it by himself…Speaking of atrocities against America’s pastime, the Milwaukee Brewers are going to erect a statue of Bud Sellout outside their stadium, next to sculptures of Hank Aaron and Robin Yount. What’s next, a mural of the Black Sox outside new Comiskey? Or perhaps a monument to the 1962 New York Mets? If the Brewers insist on commemorating Sellout, make sure the statue depicts him doing what he did best: lying about his role in the steroid era…Danica Patrick makes her official NASCAR debut this Sunday in the Daytona 500, which ought to create questions among the Billy Bob set. For instance, do her fans have to get bikini waxes, instead of shaving her car’s number into their back hair? And what happens if she wins a race before Dale, Jr. – like everybody else has? Tough questions, but that’s what makes stock car racing such a great “sport.”…The NBA All-Star Layup Lines take place Sunday, but the real news in the sport is next Thursday’s trade deadline. Deals are already percolating, with the most popular a rumored three-way swap involving Problem Child, Ugly Contract and Unfulfilled Potential.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Phillies pitchers and catchers report to Clearwater next Wednesday, and that’s good news for those who are sick of digging out from under more snow than Tony Montana used to sling back in the day. But the level of excitement that should accompany the start of a season that could feature a third consecutive World Series appearance has been diluted by the fact that the organization refused to make the power move that would have given the Phils the best rotation in baseball. No matter how good Roy Halladay promises to be, the thought of pairing him and Cliff Lee atop the team’s starters is too tough to eliminate from fans’ minds, especially since none of the three minor-leaguers acquired for Lee is considered to be a future star. So what if Lee pitched one year and left in free agency? At least the Phils would have had him and Halladay together for 162 games – with Cole Hamels in the no-pressure number three spot. Instead of giving fans that, the team tried to jam a story down their throats that the farm stocks had to be replenished for future success. Horse manure! It was a money decision, and that’s it. The team didn’t want to pay Lee $9 million this year, didn’t want to lose him for nothing after the season and was afraid of being painted as cheapskates by not making a strong move for him in free agency next winter. There is still a lot to be excited about for the team, but Lee’s absence tempers the enthusiasm, and that’s a damn shame.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: The tears of joy were barely dry in New Orleans this week when the NFL’s perpetual news cycle sprang to life with rumors about possible trades, speculation about the free agent pool, worries about a potential work stoppage in 2011 and an avalanche of mock drafts. Behold the magic of the world’s most potent sports juggernaut. Even though March Madness looms, exhibition baseball games begin in fewer than three weeks, and the NBA is working overtime to promote itself, nothing can top the NFL, which has perfected the art of attracting off-season attention. Since fans are forced to wait six-plus long months until the next regular-season concussion, the league needs to prime the pump. And prime it the NFL does. Next up is free agency. Then the Draft. Mini-camps and OTAs are always good for drama. And the one month before training camp that used to be quiet time is now consumed with rumors about Cowboy Quarterback’s angst-filled decision-making process. When labor negotiations commence in earnest, the league will try to chop the players’ share of revenues from 59% to about 41%, crying poor the whole time. Don’t believe a word of it. The NFL is flush with cash, and its bottom line only getting bigger. Over the next few months, you’ll see why.
-EH-
Showing posts with label Danica Patrick. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Danica Patrick. Show all posts
Friday, February 12, 2010
Friday, October 9, 2009
A Flood of Memories
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
There was no fanfare two days ago to mark the 40th anniversary of one of the truly seminal moments in sports. Maybe because it didn’t involve Cowboy Quarterback or LeBron James or this athlete with that reality-show chippy, no one bothered to notice. But it should have been commemorated with a giant retrospective, instead of falling into history’s abyss. Hell, it didn’t even show up on any “This Day In Sports” lists.
If you know what happened on Oct. 7, 1969, go straight to the head of the class, because you pay attention to the whys and wherefores of sport, rather than the daily blithering of synergy-chasing media outlets. It was on that date the Phillies traded Dick Allen, Cookie Rojas and Jerry Johnson to the St. Louis Cardinals for Tim McCarver, Joe Hoerner and Byron Browne.
And Curt Flood.
At the time, it was a big deal because the Phils were finally breaking ties with the disgruntled – and highly-talented – Allen, who had emerged as one of baseball’s most dynamic sluggers. But because of his treatment in Philadelphia, both by teammates and fans, Allen wanted out. By dealing him to St. Louis, the Phillies were giving up their main bat, but they were hoping that Flood’s speed, average and slick glove would compensate somewhat.
It never happened. Unhappy with the Phillies’ dreadful play, the prospect of what he considered playing in a racist city, the idea that the Cardinals would trade him in the first place, and that he learned of the deal from an assistant GM and not the big boss, Flood refused to report to Philadelphia. Not only that, but he wanted to choose where he played. Imagine that; Flood wanted to be a free agent.
Fans who don’t remember the late 1960s and early ’70s – or the 100 years of baseball before that – can’t fathom a world in which a player who was without a contract wouldn’t be able to cut his own deal. Flood could have made $100,000 (real money back then) to play for the Phillies, but he refused. On Christmas Eve, 1969, he sent a letter to baseball commissioner Bowie Kuhn that outlined his case.
“After twelve years in the major leagues, I do not feel I am a piece of property to be bought and sold irrespective of my wishes. I believe that any system which produces that result violates my basic rights as a citizen and is inconsistent with the laws of the United States and of several States(sic). It is my desire to play baseball in 1970, and I am capable of playing. I have received a contract offer from the Philadelphia club, but I believe I have the right to consider offers from other clubs before making any decision. I, therefore, request that you make known to all Major League clubs my feelings in this matter, and advise them of my availability for the 1970 season.”
Flood had taken on the cherished MLB reserve clause, which had tied players to their teams. Once you signed with a team, you belonged to that team – forever. Satan had a better escape clause than baseball did. Contracts arrived in the mail each winter, and players signed them, no matter how insulting they were. Okay, so maybe somebody like Babe Ruth had some leverage, but Curt Flood did not. He belonged to the Cardinals, and if they wanted to trade him to the Phillies, the Dodgers or Ulan Bator Yakherders, there was nothing he could do about it.
As you can imagine, Flood’s letter was received with the same enthusiasm in the Majoke League Offices as news about the debut of “Cougar Town” was at the National Organization for Women’s headquarters. Kuhn and MLB fought Flood to the death in court, and vanquished him. The reserve clause won, because the Supreme Court upheld a 1922 ruling that favored the outdated model. Flood sat out the 1970 season, played 13 games with the Washington Senators in 1971 and retired. He had a career .293 average, won seven gold gloves, registered 200 hits twice and played on a pair of World Series champions.
That’s a pretty impressive resume, but it’s nothing compared to what his reserve-clause challenge meant to baseball players – and, ultimately, all professional athletes. Though the 1975 arbitrator’s decision to make pitchers Andy Messersmith and Dave McNally free agents was based on the reserve clause’s ambiguous language and not Flood’s lawsuit, all professional athletes should applaud the courage he displayed in challenging an entrenched, parsimonious hierarchy. It’s no coincidence that the reserve clause endured for decades before Flood’s challenge and only five years after it. The clause would have been overcome eventually, even without Flood’s actions, but his willingness to fight for his beliefs and demand to be treated with dignity by MLB owners required a rare fortitude.
Sadly, few professional athletes know of Flood and his stand. They sign their gigantic contracts, but they don’t know what went into paving the dusty road that leads to their sporting penthouses. Curt Flood gave up his career for his principles. He sacrificed a lot of money. But he never let go of his beliefs. Forty years later, MLB players ought to rename their union in his honor. It’s the least they can do for the man who had the guts to stand up to the baseball barons and demand something better.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Golf and rugby have been added to the Olympic roster for the 2016 and ’20 Games, while baseball and softball remain on the sidelines. Geez, wonder if a certain billionaire golfer’s worldwide popularity had anything to do with it, not that the IOC cares about money…After beating the Packers last Monday night, Cowboy Quarterback cured the common cold and rescued a toddler who fell down a well. espn plans a four-hour special on the big day during the Vikings’ bye week…Danica Patrick is considering a limited NASCAR arrangement for 2010. It would be an interesting move for the Indy racer, who would no doubt be asked to drive in a bikini, the better to appeal to stock car racing’s effete clientele…So Lamar Odom married a Kardashian sister last week after knowing her for something like two months. He’s convinced it’s true love. El Hombre believes it’s even money the thing doesn’t last six months.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT: It is hardly stretching things to declare Saturday’s third game of the Phillies NLDS against Colorado a must win. Thursday’s loss to the Rockies was a disastrous brew of poor starting pitching (grow up and pitch well while the sun is shining, Cole), shaky managerial decisions (what, Bunning and Short weren’t available, Charlie?) and a lack of offense (remember when Chase Utley was reliable?) that resulted in a 1-1 tie in the best-of-five minefield. Now, all the Phils have to contend with in Denver is weather straight from Joe Stalin’s gulags, a starting rotation so jumbled it’s a wonder Joe Roa doesn’t come trotting out onto the mound for the first inning Saturday and a sinking feeling that the team’s offensive shortcomings during the regular season are being exposed further during the playoffs. This team has won a title, so dismissing it is dangerous, but the Rockies are a strong adversary, and it’s time for the big guns on the roster to step up over the weekend to prevent a disaster. That means some long balls from the middle of the order and a starting pitcher not named Lee with the huevos to deliver seven or eight strong innings.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Florida State board chairman Jim Smith wants Bobby Bowden out of the head football coaching position, preferably yesterday. Shame on him. First of all, his comments create instability that hurts the team on the field and the recruiting trail, where rival coaches can tell prospects that no one knows what’s going to happen in Tallahassee. Second, Bowden is more responsible than any 100 people for helping FSU develop a national reputation. Before he got there, the school was a regional concern, not too far removed from being a women’s college. Now, it is known all over America, and Bowden has brought hundreds of millions of dollars into the university’s coffers. For that, his contract – which runs through next season – should be honored, and Bowden should be allowed to close his career with dignity. Smith’s upset the Seminoles are 2-3, but he shouldn’t be sacrificing the man who has done more for the university than anybody else. Let Bowden have his victory lap next season and then move on.
-EH-
There was no fanfare two days ago to mark the 40th anniversary of one of the truly seminal moments in sports. Maybe because it didn’t involve Cowboy Quarterback or LeBron James or this athlete with that reality-show chippy, no one bothered to notice. But it should have been commemorated with a giant retrospective, instead of falling into history’s abyss. Hell, it didn’t even show up on any “This Day In Sports” lists.
If you know what happened on Oct. 7, 1969, go straight to the head of the class, because you pay attention to the whys and wherefores of sport, rather than the daily blithering of synergy-chasing media outlets. It was on that date the Phillies traded Dick Allen, Cookie Rojas and Jerry Johnson to the St. Louis Cardinals for Tim McCarver, Joe Hoerner and Byron Browne.
And Curt Flood.
At the time, it was a big deal because the Phils were finally breaking ties with the disgruntled – and highly-talented – Allen, who had emerged as one of baseball’s most dynamic sluggers. But because of his treatment in Philadelphia, both by teammates and fans, Allen wanted out. By dealing him to St. Louis, the Phillies were giving up their main bat, but they were hoping that Flood’s speed, average and slick glove would compensate somewhat.
It never happened. Unhappy with the Phillies’ dreadful play, the prospect of what he considered playing in a racist city, the idea that the Cardinals would trade him in the first place, and that he learned of the deal from an assistant GM and not the big boss, Flood refused to report to Philadelphia. Not only that, but he wanted to choose where he played. Imagine that; Flood wanted to be a free agent.
Fans who don’t remember the late 1960s and early ’70s – or the 100 years of baseball before that – can’t fathom a world in which a player who was without a contract wouldn’t be able to cut his own deal. Flood could have made $100,000 (real money back then) to play for the Phillies, but he refused. On Christmas Eve, 1969, he sent a letter to baseball commissioner Bowie Kuhn that outlined his case.
“After twelve years in the major leagues, I do not feel I am a piece of property to be bought and sold irrespective of my wishes. I believe that any system which produces that result violates my basic rights as a citizen and is inconsistent with the laws of the United States and of several States(sic). It is my desire to play baseball in 1970, and I am capable of playing. I have received a contract offer from the Philadelphia club, but I believe I have the right to consider offers from other clubs before making any decision. I, therefore, request that you make known to all Major League clubs my feelings in this matter, and advise them of my availability for the 1970 season.”
Flood had taken on the cherished MLB reserve clause, which had tied players to their teams. Once you signed with a team, you belonged to that team – forever. Satan had a better escape clause than baseball did. Contracts arrived in the mail each winter, and players signed them, no matter how insulting they were. Okay, so maybe somebody like Babe Ruth had some leverage, but Curt Flood did not. He belonged to the Cardinals, and if they wanted to trade him to the Phillies, the Dodgers or Ulan Bator Yakherders, there was nothing he could do about it.
As you can imagine, Flood’s letter was received with the same enthusiasm in the Majoke League Offices as news about the debut of “Cougar Town” was at the National Organization for Women’s headquarters. Kuhn and MLB fought Flood to the death in court, and vanquished him. The reserve clause won, because the Supreme Court upheld a 1922 ruling that favored the outdated model. Flood sat out the 1970 season, played 13 games with the Washington Senators in 1971 and retired. He had a career .293 average, won seven gold gloves, registered 200 hits twice and played on a pair of World Series champions.
That’s a pretty impressive resume, but it’s nothing compared to what his reserve-clause challenge meant to baseball players – and, ultimately, all professional athletes. Though the 1975 arbitrator’s decision to make pitchers Andy Messersmith and Dave McNally free agents was based on the reserve clause’s ambiguous language and not Flood’s lawsuit, all professional athletes should applaud the courage he displayed in challenging an entrenched, parsimonious hierarchy. It’s no coincidence that the reserve clause endured for decades before Flood’s challenge and only five years after it. The clause would have been overcome eventually, even without Flood’s actions, but his willingness to fight for his beliefs and demand to be treated with dignity by MLB owners required a rare fortitude.
Sadly, few professional athletes know of Flood and his stand. They sign their gigantic contracts, but they don’t know what went into paving the dusty road that leads to their sporting penthouses. Curt Flood gave up his career for his principles. He sacrificed a lot of money. But he never let go of his beliefs. Forty years later, MLB players ought to rename their union in his honor. It’s the least they can do for the man who had the guts to stand up to the baseball barons and demand something better.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Golf and rugby have been added to the Olympic roster for the 2016 and ’20 Games, while baseball and softball remain on the sidelines. Geez, wonder if a certain billionaire golfer’s worldwide popularity had anything to do with it, not that the IOC cares about money…After beating the Packers last Monday night, Cowboy Quarterback cured the common cold and rescued a toddler who fell down a well. espn plans a four-hour special on the big day during the Vikings’ bye week…Danica Patrick is considering a limited NASCAR arrangement for 2010. It would be an interesting move for the Indy racer, who would no doubt be asked to drive in a bikini, the better to appeal to stock car racing’s effete clientele…So Lamar Odom married a Kardashian sister last week after knowing her for something like two months. He’s convinced it’s true love. El Hombre believes it’s even money the thing doesn’t last six months.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT: It is hardly stretching things to declare Saturday’s third game of the Phillies NLDS against Colorado a must win. Thursday’s loss to the Rockies was a disastrous brew of poor starting pitching (grow up and pitch well while the sun is shining, Cole), shaky managerial decisions (what, Bunning and Short weren’t available, Charlie?) and a lack of offense (remember when Chase Utley was reliable?) that resulted in a 1-1 tie in the best-of-five minefield. Now, all the Phils have to contend with in Denver is weather straight from Joe Stalin’s gulags, a starting rotation so jumbled it’s a wonder Joe Roa doesn’t come trotting out onto the mound for the first inning Saturday and a sinking feeling that the team’s offensive shortcomings during the regular season are being exposed further during the playoffs. This team has won a title, so dismissing it is dangerous, but the Rockies are a strong adversary, and it’s time for the big guns on the roster to step up over the weekend to prevent a disaster. That means some long balls from the middle of the order and a starting pitcher not named Lee with the huevos to deliver seven or eight strong innings.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Florida State board chairman Jim Smith wants Bobby Bowden out of the head football coaching position, preferably yesterday. Shame on him. First of all, his comments create instability that hurts the team on the field and the recruiting trail, where rival coaches can tell prospects that no one knows what’s going to happen in Tallahassee. Second, Bowden is more responsible than any 100 people for helping FSU develop a national reputation. Before he got there, the school was a regional concern, not too far removed from being a women’s college. Now, it is known all over America, and Bowden has brought hundreds of millions of dollars into the university’s coffers. For that, his contract – which runs through next season – should be honored, and Bowden should be allowed to close his career with dignity. Smith’s upset the Seminoles are 2-3, but he shouldn’t be sacrificing the man who has done more for the university than anybody else. Let Bowden have his victory lap next season and then move on.
-EH-
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Let Manny Play
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Back when the BALCO Bonds Traveling Medicine Show was rolling into big-league parks, Dodgers fans used to rage (as much as anybody from L.A. can rage) about the lab creation’s steroid-infused body. They couldn’t believe how those rubes up the coast could support such a human abomination. Bonds was a walking, slugging example of the game’s performance-enhancing drug problem, and the Giants fans who rooted for him were head-in-the-sand rubes who would have begged for a curtain call from Stalin had he ever hit a game-winning home run for their diamond heroes.
The anger was exacerbated by the teams’ rivalry, which was born in New York and moved west in the early 1960s. It was fueled by Juan Marichal’s use of John Roseboro’s head as a piñata, numerous pennant-race showdowns and the natural NoCal-SoCal antagonism. But Los Angelinos, like most other MLB outposts, ridiculed the Giants for their support of one of the sporting world’s biggest cheaters.
Funny how things change. In the most recent All-Star Game balloting, disgraced Dodgers slugger Manny Ramirez is among the top five outfield vote getters and is within striking distance of a starting spot. This despite his 50-game suspension for using a steroid post-cursor/female fertility drug/party starter. Since most baseball fans are nauseated by the latest star player to be gunned down in the P.E.D. mess, it stands to reason that his overwhelming All-Star support is coming from Dodgertown, where fans pine for his return and start Twitter pages counting the days until he can continue his pathological ways on the field and in the clubhouse.
As you might imagine, the whole thing has spawned a cyclone of controversy over whether Ramirez should play in the game if he is elected. Dodgers manager Joe Torre says no, and he insists Ramirez would say the same thing. MLB commissioner Bud Sellout is watching the situation closely, hoping Ramirez doesn’t grab one of the top three spots and force the owners’ toady to take action. Since Sellout is still cleaning syrup out of his hair following his world-class waffling during Bonds’ heinous pursuit of Hank Aaron’s career home-run mark, you can imagine he doesn’t want anything to do with the Ramirez All-Star mess.
Not that there should be any debate on the subject. If Ramirez is elected, he plays. His suspension will be up before the All-Star Game, barring a wrath-of-God style spate of rainouts. (Then again, since God is probably an Angels fan, he might just stick it to the cross-town Dodgers.) That means Ramirez will be eligible to shamble onto the Busch Stadium field in his pajama-style uniform and represent the National League. And he should do it. Ramirez’s presence in the game will remind MLB fans of the sport’s two bigger shams – the steroid disgrace and the ridiculous practice of turning the selection of All-Starters into a popularity contest. You say Ramirez doesn’t deserve a spot in the lineup? Well, get in line, because ever since Majoke League Baseball started the fan balloting system, back in 1970, there have been dozens of unworthy starters. Ramirez just happens to be the latest in a long line.
Every year, worthy performers are pushed to the bench by the whims of the public, most of whom don’t know anything about the players for whom they are voting. A doozy is brewing this year, since as of Tuesday, Seattle’s Ken Griffey, Jr., he of the .222 batting average and six whole homers, was running fourth in the AL outfield voting, just 28,000 ahead of teammate Ichiro Suzuki, one of the game’s best. Should junior warm up a bit and show up on SportsCenter a few times, he could zip past Ichiro as a sentimental favorite, not to mention the choice of fans who still think it’s 1998. So Ramirez doesn’t belong? He has plenty of company.
As for the steroid angle, baseball would be getting what it deserves. Even though Sellout and his apologists try to make it sound as if the Manny suspension proves that the MLB has P.E.D. users on the run, it remains unwilling to confront the issues that have arisen (Hall of Fame eligibility, record-breaking debacles, sport-wide lack of credibility) due to the climate fostered by look-the-other-way owners and a truculent union. Forcing broadcasters to explain the whole mess as Ramirez digs into the batter’s box would be absolutely delicious and what the game deserves. And, should Sellout discover that he indeed has a set and prevents a fan-elected Manny from playing, he will contradict his previous simpering stances on how to deal with drug abusers and appear as if he is grandstanding. Simply put, it’s a win-win for those who are disgusted by the past 15 years of baseball history – except for last year’s glorious Phillies World Championship, of course. If Ramirez plays, it indicts the All-Star balloting sham. If he is banned by Sellout, it will make the commissioner look like a spineless hypocrite who hasn’t had the fortitude to deal with other steroid cheats.
For now, count on two things. First, the Dodgers fans will continue to become the biggest jokes in baseball by rooting for Ramirez on the heels of their boorish behavior in last year’s loss to the Phillies in the NLCS. And Sellout will have an army of lackeys punching out All-Star ballots in the MLB offices, in an attempt to out-vote the Ramirez apologists.
Meanwhile, the Giants fans will continue to pay the price for supporting Bonds by being tortured by a poor team.
Ain’t baseball great?
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Let’s hope that LeBron James has learned that sending a text message the day after snubbing someone who has defeated you is not good sportsmanship and that being a “competitor” does not prevent one from congratulating your conqueror. More important, especially to Cleveland fans, is that James is entering what could be his final year with the Cavs. He can opt out of his contract next summer, and if GM Danny Ferry doesn’t find someone else to score during the post-season crucible, James will be a Knick faster than you can say “Spike Lee has lost his fastball.”…The NBA Finals begin tonight, and since the league can’t jam the Kobe vs. LeBron angle down our gullets (that sound you hear is Uncle David Stern’s weeping), it will have to settle for choosing the best team on the planet. Horrors! Don’t worry, ABC/espn will try to manufacture a Kobe vs. Dwight Howard rivalry, the better to avoid focusing on the game itself. In case you’re wondering, the Lakers win in six…So, you take performance-enhancing drugs, Danica Patrick? That’s hilarious. Wonder if commentators would have been tougher on you if you didn’t look so good in a swimsuit. Try to think next time you tell a joke…Speaking of jokes, Titans QB Vince Young wants to start or move on to another team. Wait, now his agent says he doesn’t. When you’re a running back under center with little accuracy throwing the ball and have demonstrated some personality issues over the past year, it’s best to keep your mouth shut and work hard. When will professional teams stop believing the hype?...At a time when the home run continues to be celebrated too strenuously, Seattle outfielder Ichiro Suzuki continues his Hall of Fame career. His hitting streak stands at 27 games, and he is on pace to collect 256 hits this year. Ichiro has topped 200 hits in each of his eight big-league seasons, has scored at least 100 runs in all eight and has enough Gold Gloves for each of an octopus’ arms. He won’t reach 3,000 hits, because he didn’t enter the Majors until age 27, but he should be a sure-fire, first-ballot Cooperstown inductee…You have to wonder whether LifeLock, the company that has bought the rights to put its name on the jerseys of the WNBA’s Phoenix Mercury, is long for this world. If you decide to spend your marketing dollars in this economy on a sponsorship deal that no one will see, you could be out of business pretty soon. In other sports business news, the Detroit Lions will now be sponsored by Alpo.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Morocco Mole checked in Monday with some big news from the World Champion Philadelphia Phillies: He had received an e-mail informing him he could still buy tickets to the sold-out Boston Red Sox series next week! Perhaps even more important is the fact that Yogi Berra is now running the Phillies’ ticket department. Let’s bring in the prosecutor for this one. Mr. Berra, are the games against the Red Sox sold out? “Yes, sir, they are.” Mr. Berra, can fans still get tickets to the sold-out Red Sox series? “Yes, sir, they can.” Prosecution calls Mr. Bud Abbott and Mr. Lou Costello to the stand. Of course, the doublespeak isn’t a mistake. The Mole and other fans can get tickets to the sold-out Red Sox series, provided they purchase tickets to three other games. Teams have been trying to entice fans to get tickets to games against relatively unsavory opponents for years by using the carrot of the opportunity to see more attractive rivals, but the Phillies have raised this to an art form. From February, they declare the games against popular Junior Circuit opposition “sold out,” and then spend months telling you how to get said ducats. The same goes for fireworks night and Salute to Scrapple Night. It’s their right to engage in such business practices, and it’s our right to laugh at them every time they channel their inner Yogi to tell us how to get tickets to sold-out games. Next up in The Mole’s e-mail box: An invitation next week to buy tickets to the sold-out Red Sox series, when the four-pack gimmick fizzles. The real kick in the pants comes the day after the sold-out Red Sox series, when the Phillies offer fans the chance to buy ticket stubs from the sold-out Red Sox Series.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: University of Florida president Bernie Machen says Gators football coach Urban Meyer deserves a raise and should be the highest-paid boss in the Southeastern Conference. On the surface, that makes sense. The stoic Meyer has won two national titles in the past three years and is threatening to zoom past The Ol’ Ball Coach in terms of on-field success. (Meyer still doesn’t have a Heisman, though.) If this were three years ago, Machen would be well advised to give Meyer more dough. The trouble is, this is 2009, and UF has sliced $69 million from its budget over the past two years. Last Tuesday, the board of trustees approved another $42.2 million in cuts. Even though Machen argues the athletic department – fueled primarily by money raised by Big Pigskin – has given $6 mil to the school’s academic departments, he would be sending a horrible message to the rest of the university community by giving Meyer more money. And the coach, who already earns $3.25 million per, would look pretty greedy grabbing another three-quarters of a million, when programs, faculty and resources are being hacked away from the school. Worse, Machen’s actions could have a trickle-down effect at another SEC institution, LSU, which is suffering through its own round of cuts. Tigers coach Les Miles is the conference’s top-paid coach, at $3.751 large a year, and has an escalator clause in his contract that keeps him atop the list. So, while students deal with schools that are trimming back academic offerings, the football coaches could be engaging in a game of top-this. Nice job, Bernie. Here’s an idea for your next move: eliminate the Economics department but give Meyer a solid-gold desk.
-EH-
Back when the BALCO Bonds Traveling Medicine Show was rolling into big-league parks, Dodgers fans used to rage (as much as anybody from L.A. can rage) about the lab creation’s steroid-infused body. They couldn’t believe how those rubes up the coast could support such a human abomination. Bonds was a walking, slugging example of the game’s performance-enhancing drug problem, and the Giants fans who rooted for him were head-in-the-sand rubes who would have begged for a curtain call from Stalin had he ever hit a game-winning home run for their diamond heroes.
The anger was exacerbated by the teams’ rivalry, which was born in New York and moved west in the early 1960s. It was fueled by Juan Marichal’s use of John Roseboro’s head as a piñata, numerous pennant-race showdowns and the natural NoCal-SoCal antagonism. But Los Angelinos, like most other MLB outposts, ridiculed the Giants for their support of one of the sporting world’s biggest cheaters.
Funny how things change. In the most recent All-Star Game balloting, disgraced Dodgers slugger Manny Ramirez is among the top five outfield vote getters and is within striking distance of a starting spot. This despite his 50-game suspension for using a steroid post-cursor/female fertility drug/party starter. Since most baseball fans are nauseated by the latest star player to be gunned down in the P.E.D. mess, it stands to reason that his overwhelming All-Star support is coming from Dodgertown, where fans pine for his return and start Twitter pages counting the days until he can continue his pathological ways on the field and in the clubhouse.
As you might imagine, the whole thing has spawned a cyclone of controversy over whether Ramirez should play in the game if he is elected. Dodgers manager Joe Torre says no, and he insists Ramirez would say the same thing. MLB commissioner Bud Sellout is watching the situation closely, hoping Ramirez doesn’t grab one of the top three spots and force the owners’ toady to take action. Since Sellout is still cleaning syrup out of his hair following his world-class waffling during Bonds’ heinous pursuit of Hank Aaron’s career home-run mark, you can imagine he doesn’t want anything to do with the Ramirez All-Star mess.
Not that there should be any debate on the subject. If Ramirez is elected, he plays. His suspension will be up before the All-Star Game, barring a wrath-of-God style spate of rainouts. (Then again, since God is probably an Angels fan, he might just stick it to the cross-town Dodgers.) That means Ramirez will be eligible to shamble onto the Busch Stadium field in his pajama-style uniform and represent the National League. And he should do it. Ramirez’s presence in the game will remind MLB fans of the sport’s two bigger shams – the steroid disgrace and the ridiculous practice of turning the selection of All-Starters into a popularity contest. You say Ramirez doesn’t deserve a spot in the lineup? Well, get in line, because ever since Majoke League Baseball started the fan balloting system, back in 1970, there have been dozens of unworthy starters. Ramirez just happens to be the latest in a long line.
Every year, worthy performers are pushed to the bench by the whims of the public, most of whom don’t know anything about the players for whom they are voting. A doozy is brewing this year, since as of Tuesday, Seattle’s Ken Griffey, Jr., he of the .222 batting average and six whole homers, was running fourth in the AL outfield voting, just 28,000 ahead of teammate Ichiro Suzuki, one of the game’s best. Should junior warm up a bit and show up on SportsCenter a few times, he could zip past Ichiro as a sentimental favorite, not to mention the choice of fans who still think it’s 1998. So Ramirez doesn’t belong? He has plenty of company.
As for the steroid angle, baseball would be getting what it deserves. Even though Sellout and his apologists try to make it sound as if the Manny suspension proves that the MLB has P.E.D. users on the run, it remains unwilling to confront the issues that have arisen (Hall of Fame eligibility, record-breaking debacles, sport-wide lack of credibility) due to the climate fostered by look-the-other-way owners and a truculent union. Forcing broadcasters to explain the whole mess as Ramirez digs into the batter’s box would be absolutely delicious and what the game deserves. And, should Sellout discover that he indeed has a set and prevents a fan-elected Manny from playing, he will contradict his previous simpering stances on how to deal with drug abusers and appear as if he is grandstanding. Simply put, it’s a win-win for those who are disgusted by the past 15 years of baseball history – except for last year’s glorious Phillies World Championship, of course. If Ramirez plays, it indicts the All-Star balloting sham. If he is banned by Sellout, it will make the commissioner look like a spineless hypocrite who hasn’t had the fortitude to deal with other steroid cheats.
For now, count on two things. First, the Dodgers fans will continue to become the biggest jokes in baseball by rooting for Ramirez on the heels of their boorish behavior in last year’s loss to the Phillies in the NLCS. And Sellout will have an army of lackeys punching out All-Star ballots in the MLB offices, in an attempt to out-vote the Ramirez apologists.
Meanwhile, the Giants fans will continue to pay the price for supporting Bonds by being tortured by a poor team.
Ain’t baseball great?
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Let’s hope that LeBron James has learned that sending a text message the day after snubbing someone who has defeated you is not good sportsmanship and that being a “competitor” does not prevent one from congratulating your conqueror. More important, especially to Cleveland fans, is that James is entering what could be his final year with the Cavs. He can opt out of his contract next summer, and if GM Danny Ferry doesn’t find someone else to score during the post-season crucible, James will be a Knick faster than you can say “Spike Lee has lost his fastball.”…The NBA Finals begin tonight, and since the league can’t jam the Kobe vs. LeBron angle down our gullets (that sound you hear is Uncle David Stern’s weeping), it will have to settle for choosing the best team on the planet. Horrors! Don’t worry, ABC/espn will try to manufacture a Kobe vs. Dwight Howard rivalry, the better to avoid focusing on the game itself. In case you’re wondering, the Lakers win in six…So, you take performance-enhancing drugs, Danica Patrick? That’s hilarious. Wonder if commentators would have been tougher on you if you didn’t look so good in a swimsuit. Try to think next time you tell a joke…Speaking of jokes, Titans QB Vince Young wants to start or move on to another team. Wait, now his agent says he doesn’t. When you’re a running back under center with little accuracy throwing the ball and have demonstrated some personality issues over the past year, it’s best to keep your mouth shut and work hard. When will professional teams stop believing the hype?...At a time when the home run continues to be celebrated too strenuously, Seattle outfielder Ichiro Suzuki continues his Hall of Fame career. His hitting streak stands at 27 games, and he is on pace to collect 256 hits this year. Ichiro has topped 200 hits in each of his eight big-league seasons, has scored at least 100 runs in all eight and has enough Gold Gloves for each of an octopus’ arms. He won’t reach 3,000 hits, because he didn’t enter the Majors until age 27, but he should be a sure-fire, first-ballot Cooperstown inductee…You have to wonder whether LifeLock, the company that has bought the rights to put its name on the jerseys of the WNBA’s Phoenix Mercury, is long for this world. If you decide to spend your marketing dollars in this economy on a sponsorship deal that no one will see, you could be out of business pretty soon. In other sports business news, the Detroit Lions will now be sponsored by Alpo.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Morocco Mole checked in Monday with some big news from the World Champion Philadelphia Phillies: He had received an e-mail informing him he could still buy tickets to the sold-out Boston Red Sox series next week! Perhaps even more important is the fact that Yogi Berra is now running the Phillies’ ticket department. Let’s bring in the prosecutor for this one. Mr. Berra, are the games against the Red Sox sold out? “Yes, sir, they are.” Mr. Berra, can fans still get tickets to the sold-out Red Sox series? “Yes, sir, they can.” Prosecution calls Mr. Bud Abbott and Mr. Lou Costello to the stand. Of course, the doublespeak isn’t a mistake. The Mole and other fans can get tickets to the sold-out Red Sox series, provided they purchase tickets to three other games. Teams have been trying to entice fans to get tickets to games against relatively unsavory opponents for years by using the carrot of the opportunity to see more attractive rivals, but the Phillies have raised this to an art form. From February, they declare the games against popular Junior Circuit opposition “sold out,” and then spend months telling you how to get said ducats. The same goes for fireworks night and Salute to Scrapple Night. It’s their right to engage in such business practices, and it’s our right to laugh at them every time they channel their inner Yogi to tell us how to get tickets to sold-out games. Next up in The Mole’s e-mail box: An invitation next week to buy tickets to the sold-out Red Sox series, when the four-pack gimmick fizzles. The real kick in the pants comes the day after the sold-out Red Sox series, when the Phillies offer fans the chance to buy ticket stubs from the sold-out Red Sox Series.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: University of Florida president Bernie Machen says Gators football coach Urban Meyer deserves a raise and should be the highest-paid boss in the Southeastern Conference. On the surface, that makes sense. The stoic Meyer has won two national titles in the past three years and is threatening to zoom past The Ol’ Ball Coach in terms of on-field success. (Meyer still doesn’t have a Heisman, though.) If this were three years ago, Machen would be well advised to give Meyer more dough. The trouble is, this is 2009, and UF has sliced $69 million from its budget over the past two years. Last Tuesday, the board of trustees approved another $42.2 million in cuts. Even though Machen argues the athletic department – fueled primarily by money raised by Big Pigskin – has given $6 mil to the school’s academic departments, he would be sending a horrible message to the rest of the university community by giving Meyer more money. And the coach, who already earns $3.25 million per, would look pretty greedy grabbing another three-quarters of a million, when programs, faculty and resources are being hacked away from the school. Worse, Machen’s actions could have a trickle-down effect at another SEC institution, LSU, which is suffering through its own round of cuts. Tigers coach Les Miles is the conference’s top-paid coach, at $3.751 large a year, and has an escalator clause in his contract that keeps him atop the list. So, while students deal with schools that are trimming back academic offerings, the football coaches could be engaging in a game of top-this. Nice job, Bernie. Here’s an idea for your next move: eliminate the Economics department but give Meyer a solid-gold desk.
-EH-
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