First, let’s all agree on something; despite giving us three great, highly anticipated match-ups to look forward to, the BCS is a sham. Period.
How ironic, that in America, a country built upon winning – both in history and hypothesis – we support a major college football television product that offers us full seasons of drama and action that boil to a climax, but in the end fail to deliver a clear and decisive winner. Excuse me?
This year’s Bull Crap Show (BCS) season finales will tease the audience once again. With four of the five (yes, there are FIVE) undefeated teams in the country pitted against each other in their scheduled bowls, the season will inevitably end with at least two teams still undefeated, and a computer arbitrarily naming one of them the winner.
Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?
I consider it unfair to whine about something unless you can offer a better solution.
Here’s my solution:
President Obama almost had it right when he offered up his 8-team playoff idea in a 60 Minutes interview last year. But he proposed a playoff that would begin after the regular bowl schedule commenced, and that won’t work. The “Academics” of the NCAA would pooh-pooh a schedule that has their student athletes playing football through the winter, and well into the second collegiate sports season.
Instead, I say, use the pageantry of the four existing BCS bowls to kick off the BCS Playoffs.
As it is now, the bowl season starts December 19th. We don’t even need to start that early. Start Christmas weekend. Start with the Rose, Sugar, Fiesta, and Orange Bowls showcasing the ‘Elite Eight’ weekend of College Football. Two games can be played the following week, on New Year’s Day (see also “Big Ad Money”). Then the BCS Championship game can be played on January 7th, the exact date on which it’s already scheduled to occur. Winner take all. Done.
As for the old money, the tradition of conference winners typically playing in certain bowl games needs to end. A spot in a bowl must be earned by finishing in the “Top 8.” If it makes everyone more comfortable, a “Top 8” finish for a Big Ten team could earn it a priority pass directly to Pasadena. Heck, Jim Tressel can even wear a Rose boutonniere on his vest. And his Got-Hot-At-The-Right-Time-Buckeyes could do a lot of damage from the 8-seed. Starting to sound fun, huh?
As for the real money, group the ABC deal for the Rose Bowl and the Fox deal for the other BCS games into one big sum, and divvy out the money to the conferences in the order that their teams finish in the Final BCS Standings. Twenty-five percent goes to first place, eighteen percent to second place and so-on, until the conferences are compensated FAIRLY for their teams’ performance. Uh-Oh! Look out for the Mountain West Conference. Of course, such a plan would force the “Academics” to swallow hard and confess the dirty little secret that their schools are actually playing for money. Scandalous.
And, as for the city of Pasadena and the Rose Bowl Committee, they’ll just have to add ‘Float Building,’ to their ‘Pre-Holiday Things To Do’ list. They have 331 (but who's counting) rainless days per year. They can handle it.
Let’s not kid ourselves here. College Football is Minor League NFL. And what better way exists to evaluate a player’s talent than to make him perform under the utmost pressure, against the stiffest competition?
In the end, fans would get to see two more classic games; nobody would have to pretend to care about the Orange Bowl; the NCAA, the schools, and most importantly, the Scholarship Foundations would reap the benefits of a 7-game playoff in which ALL of the games matter. And, incidentally, a winner would actually be crowned.
A winner? In this country? Um, yes please.
For now, we’re talking about baseball, so if you’re not sure how to answer the question above, I’ll give you three choices:
First, you could be Fan #1. He goes to a game once a year, twice maybe, but most likely, the second game is at the invitation of a friend who paid for his ticket. He probably never played baseball on any organized team, and he only watches the MLB playoffs if his hometown team is playing.
Or, maybe you’re Fan #2. He reads about his home team most mornings when he wakes up. He had season tickets at one point, but he doesn’t anymore. He watches the playoffs partly because he likes baseball, but mostly because he wants to be able to talk about the games with his coworkers. He can tell you who the best teams in the league are, but he’d look at you funny if you said ‘Zack Greinke.”
If you’re truly obsessed, you may be Fan #3. He loves baseball. He loves it because it ties him to his father, and his grandfathers, and the men who built this country before them. He loves the magnificently cerebral experience that is a game of baseball. He definitely played, or, if not, wrote about his high school team. He watches Baseball Tonight whenever he can. If he doesn’t have season tickets, its because he either doesn’t live in his hometown, or simply can’t afford them.
It doesn’t matter what kind of fan you are. Major League Baseball will take us all.
But, if you play the game, manage the game, own the game, announce the game, promote the game, write about the game, or really, really care about the game, you must be Fan #3. You must love the game. You must stand up for it.
This week, I stood up for baseball.
In his article, which you can read by clicking here, William C. Rhoden of the New York Times claims that a Yankees-Dodgers World Series would be the only great match up for baseball. He says:
What follows is the letter I sent to Mr. Rhoden and his editors at The Times.
Dear Mr. Rhoden,
I write to commend you on your October 11th column, in which you claim that a Yankees-Dodgers World Series would be the best match-up for baseball, the only truly ‘Great Series’, and a ‘Series for the ages.’
The intention of your piece is a good one. Clearly, you care about the future of the game, and in searching for a good story you found an option that may provide a therapeutic moment of closure to the steroid era. But, I also write to challenge you, since, I would ask, “For once, why can’t baseball, alone, be the story?”
We’ve been so conditioned to dig for the ancillary plot lines, I’m afraid we’re missing the obvious beauty in the game itself. It can’t be ignored that the four teams left standing are the best four teams from the 2009 season. When was the last time that happened? These four teams finished first or second in each of their leagues, and they were the top four teams in all of baseball when playing teams with winning records. The Dodgers and Phillies are in the midst of a heavyweight bout. They traded devastating offensive blows in Game 1, and then gave us a pitching duel for the ages in Game 2. The Yankees, on the other hand, needed every bit of muscle they could muster to outlast the scrappy Angels in 13 rainy innings late into Sunday morning.
In match-ups this close and with teams this talented, the speed of the game is breathtaking. The pressure each team puts on its opponent influences every play, since any mistake could be the difference in the game, and the Series. And with games this good, the two best teams will inevitably advance to the World Series.
Besides, any way you slice it, the World Series will sell itself.
A Dodgers-Angels final would put Baseball’s biggest stage under America’s brightest lights in Los Angeles.
A Yankees-Phillies series would pit the two deepest offensive clubs against each other, and bring the defending champs back to the ring to face the most dominant franchise in World Series history.
A Phillies-Angels battle – clearly the least attractive for Fox – would still include two of the top 5 major markets in the country, and pair the two most fundamentally balanced teams in the game.
And, yes, if a Yankees-Dodgers series is what we get, it too will be great. It will be great for pitting the Yankees, a group of championship veterans managed by a second year coach, against the Dodgers, a group of future champions who are managed by the Yankees’ old veteran skipper. It will be great for matching up two teams that refused to lose in 2009. But for all the reasons that a Yankees-Dodgers World Series would be a great one, Alex Rodriguez and Manny Ramirez aren’t on that list of reasons.
If we really want to move on from the steroid era, then let’s stop talking about it altogether. Because hyping Alex Rodriguez and Manny Ramirez – two whose faces will forever be etched in the steroid era’s stone of Mount Mash-More – would only remind America of baseball’s tainted past. It would only reinforce the persistence of baseball’s soiled decade, and the dishonesty of the game’s heroes.
Mr. Rhoden, for those of us who love the game, who care about the game, who want the steroid era to be a transgression of the past, let us not perpetuate the continuation of this sour topic. Let us instead prop up the great teams left standing, with honest heroes named Jeter, Howard, Hunter and Kemp. And let us pass on to the newest fans a postseason of great games, a strategy of winning baseball, and a tradition that is purely exhilarating.
Respectfully,
DJ Gregory, Philadelphia, PA
I have acted as a therapist of sorts all season.
Mostly, my clients have been Philadelphians. Since I live on the west coast, and can therefore watch from afar instead of being sucked into the funnel of worry and cynicism that is the local Philadelphia sports opinion, I can approach things from a slightly less emotional place. I’m a rational guy. I believe in things that make sense.
I believe in The Phillies. The Phillies make sense.
It makes sense when Charlie Manuel makes the tough decision to start JA Happ last night, a lefty, the sort that the Rockies don’t hit well.
It makes sense when he has the conviction to pull the young starter in the top of the fourth. Cholly makes tough decisions.
It makes sense when Carlos Ruiz, who, by the way, since the NLCS against the Dodgers last year is now batting .341 with 7 RBI in the post season, helps his staff out with two RBI hits tonight. Chooch is clutch.
And then the ninth inning arrives, and all you can do is hope. You just hope things keep making sense.
You hope that your leadoff hitter, Jimmy Rollins, is gutsy enough to tough out his early post season struggles to slap one through and get on base. You hope Victorino can get the bunt down and make it interesting by flying to first. You hope Utley busts it down the line, even if the ball DID go off of his shin, even if he WAS out at first base, just to give the umpire the chance to call him safe for his hustle. You hope Howard can hit a fly ball. You hope.
And on a cold night at Coors Field, it kept making sense, until…
…Brad Lidge walked in from right field, and nobody knew what made sense anymore. That’s what made last night’s finish ‘epic,’ as my dad so appropriately texted.
The moment he walked out of the bullpen I started jumping around like a 6-year-old on Christmas Eve, pulling the hair on my head from its roots, screaming, “He’s coming in! He’s coming in!”
Though Carlos Gonzales did his best to single handedly keep the Rockies in the playoffs, Lidge was clutch. With nobody but the struggling Myers, the young Bastardo, and the questionable Kendrick left behind him, Brad Lidge stepped up, rode the momentum of his team’s loyalty and got three big outs. He saved the game, and, ultimately, it makes no sense.
Side note, I’d have paid a few ‘G’s’ to have been a ‘fly on the mound’ for Charlie Manuel’s think tank session before Helton’s at bat in the ninth. Seemed like he said something like, “Pitch around Helton, I know you’ve got Tulowitzki…oh, and don’t screw up again.”
For a game that relies so heavily on numbers, and trends, and rationale, the climax of Game Three was an unforgettable moment in Philadelphia sports history where the hero closer who limped into the playoffs got reinvented by postseason pressure; resurrected by pure emotion.
The Phillies proved themselves to be the resilient bunch they claimed to be all week with a gutsy, come from behind victory, in a frigidly hostile environment, capped by an unimaginable ninth inning. They found a way to win when it made sense. They found a way to win when it made no sense.
They know how to do it.
After all, they’re still the champs.
When did the American Dream become the American Expectation? How did the struggle of our fathers and grandfathers get twisted into the sense of entitlement of today’s youth? Why is a victory no longer a reward for excellence, but instead, a birthright demanded by every competitor in every arena?
For two weeks now, America has been sitting on the couch, scrolling through the channels, nearly frantic to escape the line-up of whiners, crybabies, and sore-losers clogging the bandwidth. Video, indeed, has killed the radio star.
During President Obama’s healthcare address, Congressman Joe Wilson wasn’t being told what he wanted to hear, so he shouted, “You Lie!” He lost his cool, and may lose his house seat.
When Taylor Swift won her first MTV Video Music award – beating out Beyonce Knowles – Kanye West was so disheartened by the results, he stole the 17-year-old’s mic, but not her MoonMan (the statue presented to winners), and since then, everyone from Jay-Z, to Wilbon, to The Commander In-Chief himself thinks Kanye should be sent to the Moon, man.
Serena Williams… well, you know what Serena did. The call didn’t go her way. She pouted for a second, stared in disbelief, and then flipped the lunatic switch and tarnished her image as a great American champion, maybe, forever.
And, after last week’s college football opener, Oregon running back LeGarrette Blount, disgusted in defeat, threw a post-game sucker punch that dropped Boise State’s Byron Hout to the ground. The punch also dropped Blount from a 2nd round NFL draft prospect to, as one scout put it, “…totally undraftable.”
From Michael Jordan to Roger Federer, to Jerry Jones, I could continue, but I’ll stop.
I’ll stop because while every one of these public outbursts was an inexcusable, condemnable, pathetic tantrum by some spoiled brat unsatisfied with a given outcome, in the end, the brat becomes the loser. All of them become losers. They all let their passions get the best of them. They all stood up as individuals, and as individuals they all fell down. They all apologized – some more sincerely than others – and they all suffered. And for all of those reasons, none of the aforementioned embarrassments goes down as the most appalling of the last fortnight.
So, what does?
Monday night the Buffalo Bills flew to Foxboro to welcome Tom Brady back to the NFL. In his first game back from knee surgery, Brady was stymied by a competent Bills defense, and with just over five minutes left in the game, Buffalo led by 11 points. But after a vintage Brady touchdown drive, Leodis McKelvin, in an attempt to improve the Bills’ field position and all but ice the game, fumbled the ball during the return of the ensuing kickoff. Uh Oh.
Cue the spotlight.
Cue the hero music.
Close on Brady’s determined gaze.
Touchdown.
Pats win.
When Leodis McKelvin returned to his home in Buffalo Tuesday morning, vandals had spray painted the final score of the game, along with a large penis, on his lawn.
Hideous.
First, you’re a fan. Period. You’re not an elected official. You’re not an icon of the music industry. You’re not arguably the greatest female tennis player of all time. You’re not trying to win a national championship. (Not that any of these roles stand for an excuse). You’re a fan; that’s it; a spectator; a consumer of entertainment. You enjoy yourself at the game, or you don’t, but either way, you go home afterwards, you avoid Sportscenter, and you go to bed.
Second, as the passage goes, “He is not a full man who does not own a piece of land.” No matter how large the arena, or how grave the disappointment, to take a matter to a man’s home, to trespass and to threaten are acts of a felon, not a fan. If Serena torched the rulebook on the lawn of the line judge, or if LeGarrette Blount crashed the Boise State after-party to start a brawl, they both would go to jail.
But Third, and most critically, the cowardice revealed in the Buffalo defacement is frightening. The mob mentality in sports’ fans across the country and around the globe is dangerous in its anonymity. Just because 60,000 other goons share your displeasure with the outcome on the field doesn’t mean you cease to be an individual. Your retaliation may be faceless, or so you think, but the hurt isn’t, and your punishment won’t be either. You see, it all starts with a sneaky beer toss at an umpire in Yankee Stadium. It escalates to a spray painting in Buffalo. But it ends with a gunshot, or 12, to be exact, fired by a ‘fan,’ that killed Andres Escobar, the Columbian footballer whose misplay caused his team to be ousted from the 1994 World Cup.
On Thursday, two Buffalo teens turned themselves in for the incident at McKelvin’s house. He refused to press charges. The Erie County DA’s office may have other plans.
Of the countless video bytes I have watched this week, my most favorite was one of Jay Leno interviewing Kanye West. Speaking of Kanye’s mother, who Leno previously met, and who has since passed away, Jay asked, “Kanye, what would your mother have said about this?” All Kanye could muster were tears.
As football season heats up, and the baseball playoffs begin, this act of idiocy stands as a reminder. No matter how many people share our discontent, in the end, we are all individuals. In the end, we are not a mob. And in the heat of the moment, we shouldn’t forget to ask ourselves, “What would my mother have to say about this?”
Everyone has that cousin. You know the one. You see him at family get-togethers and he always has an idea, an invention, or a scheme. Your uncle tells you to ignore his rambling imaginings, but how could you? After all, he’s the one teaching you to shoot pool in the basement, showing you how to make a whiffle ball rise as it crosses the plate (talk about cheese), stealing you away from boring summer card games to enjoy the splendor of a humid round of miniature golf, with two scoops in a cone to finish. We all have that cousin, right? Well, I do, and, I hope you do too.
So, when Tom emailed me one of his famous ideas this week, I took it to heart. And with Brad Lidge lost in the wilderness, and the Phillies searching for another messiah to guide them to the Promised Land, Tom’s outlandish hypothesis seemed surprisingly reasonable:
“Hey Cheese, can’t find a place for Jamie Moyer? How about as a closer? Don’t laugh…hear me out…when the game is on the line…with a 1 run deficit…what does every batter want to do? He’s looking for the magical walk-off homer…free swinging…and those are the guys that can’t hit Moyer. Hitters are much better against Jamie the second and third time through the line-up…Check out the stats. Do me a favor, and look up his ERA in the first couple innings of his starts…I think you’ll be surprised.”
I did. And, since I’m not just any ordinary flinger of cheese, I used my Whizardry to take it a step further. After all, this is not just about Jamie Moyer. This is about a team that needs a closer. This is about our team, Tom…
As I see it, Brad Lidge is done. You can give him a few more opportunities here and there for the remainder of the regular season, especially if the Braves and Fish continue to blow opportunities to pull off a copycat performance of the 2008 Phillies’ comeback. . When Lidge had similar troubles in Houston, they sat him, and it led to an even bigger disaster bordering on a total mental breakdown, so putting him completely on ice may have its larger consequences. Additionally, Lidge still has24 million in contract dollars coming to him after this season. So I think, from a management standpoint, you have to keep his head in it a little bit longer. But, as far as the playoffs and pressure situations are concerned, he's done, as in: he's on the menu at Harry The K’s tonight, well done.
So who are our other options?
JAMIE MOYER:
There are a few stats that might lead you to believe that Moyer would do really well in Save situations. Here they are:
1. In 26 appearances this season, he has NEVER walked the first batter he faced. NEVER. That bodes well for a good start to the ninth. Lidge has given more free-passes than the Cape May County beach tag checkers.
2. As Tom predicted, Moyer’s opponents’ batting average the first time through the line-up is .249. The second time through it jumps to .297, and stays about the same for their third turn.
3. Moyer’s strikeout-to-walk ratio (this is a key stat for closers) is 2.33 the first time through the line-up (anything over 2.00 is good) and it falls off to 1.87 by the third time through the line-up.
These positives aside, there are some problems with Tom’s theory...
1. Moyer’s ERA is consistent; and consistently bad. This year, it stays right around 5.47 for each of the first 4 innings. And, in 26 appearances, he gives up at least 1 run in the first inning about 60% of the time. There aren't any huge outliers to throw off the average. He gave up 3 in the first inning in a start against Toronto, and 4 in the first in a game against the Mets. Otherwise, a consistent 1 run concession in the first seems to plague a lot of his starts. Looking at the numbers, I would expect him to give up at least 1 run in every two appearances if he were to be a closer. That’s not good enough.
2. Moyer’s opponent’s batting average against him is the highest (.349) in tie-game situations, and 2nd highest (.317) when the opposing team trails by 1 run. Those are not good pressure numbers!
3. His best stats, BY FAR (BAA - Batting Average Against of .182, and only 2 ER in 51 plate appearances) come when he has a lead of 4 runs or more. It's easy to paint the corners when you have a big lead and umpires just want to shower up and have a beer. They call everything within an area code of the plate a strike, and the first round is on Moyer.
4. 46-year-olds don't do well pitching on consecutive days. No 46-year-old athlete performs well on consecutive days, unless, of course, he’s named Bonds, and has friends at BALCO.
5. Anyone who knows anything about Jamie Moyer knows that his LONG pre-game routine and his extensive mental preparation are what make him as crafty as he is when he's at his best.
So, while Tom raises a very interesting point, I can't say I agree with his hypothesis after looking at the numbers.
Where do we go next?
PEDRO MARTINEZ:
Pedro’s career numbers as a starter are so good it’s hard to get a feel for anything, but here are some amazing stats...
1. Lifetime, leadoff hitters in any inning hit .219 off of him, and his SO/BBratio is 4.26 ...WOW!
2. It gets even better than that when you look at his first time through the line-up: BAA = .210, and SO/BB 4.44 ...DOUBLE WOW!
However, Pedro is clearly a different pitcher now. This season (although its hard to tell, because he's gotten rained on twice), his best stats come during his 3rd time through the line-up. He has learned to work the ball, and rely less on power. So, while Michael Wilbon (from PTI, whom I love) thinks Pedro should close for the Phils, I think he's wrong.
Next.
BRETT MYERS:
1. The guy is a head case. Period. He has trouble settling in. His best numbers are the second time through the line-up, by far.
2. Myers walks 1 out of every 6 batters he faces in the first inning of his appearances, and that is not a stat you like in the ninth inning of a tight game.
3. Myers’ 1st Inning Stats: BAA = .260; OBP = .400; SO/BB = 1.30 ....not great, at all.
Myers can set-up. So, that leaves us with…
RYAN MADSON:
Madson gets the ball.
1. There is a statistic kept on pitchers called "Late and Close." This pertains to games in the 7th, 8th, or 9th, with the batting team tied, or within one run. THIS IS WHEN RYAN MADSON HAS HIS BEST NUMBERS! (BAA = .249; 2.50 SO/BB ratio)
2. He is even better than that in his first 25 pitches of an appearance, where his SO/BB ratio jumps to 2.89, and opponents hit only .257.
3. The first time through the line-up teams hit .258 against him. The second time through, their average balloons to .325 ...whoa now.
So, if I were Charlie Manuel, I’d let Lidge have a few more cracks at it, as long as the division lead is over 5 games. It will benefit the organization in the long run if Lidge doesn’t totally disintegrate. Ultimately, Pedro and Jamie will be there to clean up the mess in aisle (inning) 6 during the playoffs, following the starts of Lee, Hamels, Happ and Blanton. But when it comes down to crunch time Madson has both the heat and the change-up to be a closer.. It's time for him to step up and be the guy for this club.
If you want to watch your home team play on Sunday, you might have to move.
This week, a barrage of articles were written criticizing Roger Goodell and the greedy NFL for threatening to blackout locally televised games – as they always have – if the home team doesn’t sell out the stadium 72 hours prior to kickoff. With blackouts likely in at least 5 cities, and 75% of Sunday afternoon ticket dropouts pointing to a lack of funds as their reason for cancelling subscriptions, crusading journalists are begging for the mercy of loyal fans; fans too strapped to buy a ticket; fans, who, without a local broadcast, will be unable to see their home team play.
Stop whining. And, as my father would say, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
In 1961, then commissioner Pete Rozelle (a genius), looked into the eyes of the NFL owners and said something like: “You want to make money? You want your franchises to be worth more than they are now? Then stop being selfish. Make the success of the league your priority, and your team will be richer for it.”
Did it work? You’re darn right it did.
The “League Think” mentality gave birth to a joint television deal with CBS for $2.3 million per year that has now grown to include FOX, ESPN, NBC, and DIRECTV at a whopping $2.3 BILLION per year. Rozelle basically printed his own winning Mega Millions ticket and handed it to the league.
For a revenue sharing system to work, however, there must be accountability. The big market Cowboys, Redskins and Patriots shouldn’t be asked to blindly concede 40% of their gate receipts to the greater good if small market teams, like the Jaguars, and Lions, and Rams (Oh, My!), aren’t going to do their part by fielding a competitive team and diligently marketing the product to local fans. This isn’t a free ride to The Emerald City, folks.
“We tried our best, but the economy is in shambles,” they cry!
The economy crumbled 11 months ago, and NFL owners were on the front lines. This fraternity of financially savvy tycoons knew what was in store for the American consumer a year ago. They knew full well that season ticket subscribers would be lost. They knew full well that wallets would be empty. And how did they react? Who was running their marketing departments, Laurel and Hardy? And, would someone please tell me, whatever happened to ‘thinking outside of the box?’
Every other moneymaking entity in America has been forced to adapt to the pressures of a bear market. NFL teams should not be exempt. The average NFL ticket cost $72 last year. Why not offer discounts? Why not offer single game options, or even 2 or 4 game packages, rather than the full 8-game plans that fans are now held hostage by? Why not spare season ticket holders the pain of pre-season detention, having to watch the taxi squad three or four times, when they would rather just stay at the beach for the weekend?
Here’s an idea: if so many Americans are unemployed, why not hire a few, on a commission basis, to investigate thriving local businesses in your area and recruit those profiting companies and their employees to buy up your newly vacant seats? Because let’s be real; this isn’t a 162 game baseball schedule nor an 82 game basketball schedule.
It’s a 16 game season! Only 8 are played at home! EIGHT!
That means there are only 400,000 seats to sell. That number pales in comparison to the 1.6 million tickets the flailing, basement dwelling, small-market, I-can’t-name-more-than-two-guys-on-the-team Pittsburgh Pirates of baseball sold this season.
If NFL teams failed to address these basic economic concerns, then they’re flat-out stupid. But worse, if they knowingly watched ticket sales drop while secretly hoping the league would bail them out in the end, then please, say it with me, “KEEP THEM DARK!” Punish these franchises that planned on riding the coattails of an otherwise thriving economic system.
“But, it’s the fans who suffer!” Yes, it is. That’s what they get when they root for a team run by Al Davis.
Being a football fan is a funny thing. Because, while a guy in Jacksonville might say he’s a fan of the Jaguars, and a young girl in Detroit will claim to be a Lions fan, they’re both wrong. They are both fans of the NFL. Period.
The product is not an individual team. The product is a competitive contest, between two fairly matched teams, with an unpredictable outcome. That is why we watch the games. That is why we manage fantasy teams. That is why NFL gambling is a multi-million dollar industry in Las Vegas. And, thanks to 4 major networks, satellite TV and the internet, a fan who can’t watch the Raiders from his home in Berkeley can just as easily become a fan of the Vikings, the Steelers, the Colts, or a handful of other small-market teams whose exciting, sold-out, raucous stadiums will be aired every week by a league proud to show you such an overwhelming sensory experience.
If there is any criticism to be made of the NFL, it is in its policing of non-sharable revenues. Thanks to the efforts of individualists like Jerry Jones, teams that own their own stadiums can create alternative streams of income from concessions to parking to summer concerts. And if these capitalistic ventures remain unbridled, small market teams will not be able to keep pace with an ever-rising salary cap and competitive economic demands. The very semi-socialistic foundation that has lifted the NFL to great heights will surely come crumbling down.
For now, the system works. Stop whining. Get creative. Sell some tickets.
If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
The Philadelphia Phillies have a problem. They have a huge problem. They can’t finish.
Indisputably perfect in their 2008 championship season was their closer, Brad Lidge. But since falling to his knees following the final out of that mystical run, Lidge has been abandoned by the very same baseball gods before whom he knelt on that holy night last October. His fastball is just a bit less precise, making his nasty slider look like just another red-light tramp, ignored as she passes by. Walks have become common, his ERA has skyrocketed to 7.17, and his perfect 48-of-48 save record of a year ago has already been replaced by 9 blown saves.
In an attempt to quell my own fears and those of my panicking brethren, I delved deeply into Baseball Reference hoping to identify a past team that has won the World Series with such a poor performance from their closer. What did I find? The only team in the last 25 years that has won the World Series with a closer who blew at least 9 regular season saves was the 2006 St. Louis Cardinals. And they shouldn’t count, because their save-blower, Jason Isringhausen (10 blown), injured his hip in early September of that year and didn’t play in the 2006 playoffs. Aside from the ’06 Cards, no recent team has won a World Series when their closer has blown more than 7 save opportunities.
Panic turned to instant hysteria. “Oh, no,” I thought, “What are we going to do?”
Like any true blooded Philadelphian, I ditched Plan A – logic and reason – and moved quickly to Plan B – insecure defensiveness. Since Lidge’s atrocious stat clearly (sarcasm font needed) bars any chance of a Phillies repeat, I will cease consoling myself, and instead gather stones to throw at every other team left standing.
I got your back, Brad.
So, with even more help from Baseball Reference, here are ten stats that surely substantiate how no team mentioned below can win the World Series this year.
Preface: Tampa Bay dumped salary last night by trading Scott Kazmir to the Angels. They’re done. No team has won the World Series with an average age under 27 years since the 1969 Mets (25.8 years), so this year’s Florida Marlins (26.8 years), are done. The Braves can’t run. Seriously, they can’t. They have 47 stolen bases this season, or, 0.36 per game, which puts them on pace for 58 at season’s end. No team has ever won it all by stealing that few bases. Atlanta is done.
I’m just getting warm.
10. Texas Rangers. Although not the youngest team in history at 27.9 years, the Rangers’ youth – as often does – is wreaking havoc on their patience and pitch selection at the plate. Their 1006 strikeouts, compared to 379 walks, give them a SO/BB ratio of 2.66. Only three teams in history* (modern baseball) have won the World Series with a ratio over 2.0. And, no team has ever won the World Series with a ratio higher than 2.30 (2005 Chicago White Sox). Texas is out.
9. San Francisco Giants. Boy, do the Giants know how to ruin a good thing. Their run support is so bad (this sounds like a ‘fat momma’ joke) that if the Giants went the distance, Matt Cain (12-4, 2.39 ERA) and Tim Lincecum (13-4, 2.34 ERA) could be the first duo ever with ERAs under 3.00 who fail to win 16 games apiece. Only three other pitchers in World Series history have had such little run support, and never have there been two such aces on one staff. Stay tuned for what should be 6 more starts apiece, but expect the Giants to fall short.
8. Chicago White Sox. Defense wins championships. The White Sox have booted it 97 times. Their .980 fielding percentage would be the lowest since that of the 1989 Oakland A’s. And, it looks like Mark Buerhle emptied his swing-and-miss reservoir earlier this summer. The White Sox are kicked out.
7. LA Angels. The Angel’s 4.87 ERA would be the highest in history (1960) to win a World Series. And, picking up Scott Kazmir’s five-point-seven-niner won’t help. Only the 2000 New York Yankees came close to this mess, with their own 4.76 earned run nightmare. To heaven you go.
6. LA Dodgers. I could have pointed to the Dodger’s terrible homerun output, but for now, I’ll spare them any analysis of that incompetence. But where’s the starter stamina? No team has ever won the World Series with fewer than 4 complete games from their starters. The Dodgers have 1 complete game. And the guy who threw it (Eric Stults) is now enjoying the view of the tumbleweeds from the team bus rides in Triple A. Albuequerque. They can’t go the distance.
Now, it gets tougher…
5. Detroit Tigers. Here’s a weird one. No team has ever (again, since 1960) won the World Series with less than 250 doubles. The Tigers have 186 two baggers, and they are on pace to hit 239 of that variety. I think they’re in what must be called “double trouble.”
4. St. Louis Cardinals. Offensively, here’s what the Cardinals have; a .415 slugging percentage, a .746 OPS, and 129 homeruns. And don’t forget, King Albert has 40 of those bombs all to himself. No team has won with offensive numbers that low since the ’97 Marlins. And, while Ryan Ludwick, who has hit 18 homers, is likely to connect on at least 2 more before season’s end, if he doesn’t, the Cardinals would be the first team since – you guessed it – the 1982 Cardinals – to attempt to win a World Series without two twenty-homerun guys. The Cardinals are power OUTaged.
Now, it gets really tough…
3. Colorado Rockies. Personally, I’m more worried about the Rockies than I am about Brad Lidge. They’re good. They’re hot. And, they’ve done it to the Phillies before. But, try this stat on for size. Before the 2004 Red Sox, no team with more than 1100 strikeouts had ever won the World Series, and only a handful of teams with 1000 K’s had accomplished the unlikely feat. And while K counts have been rising in recent years, the Rockies 7.68 strikeouts per game puts them on pace for 1245 sit-downs at season’s end. That’s a whiff of thin air. Strike. Out.
2. Boston Red Sox. Josh Beckett is having some problems right now, but if I lived in ‘The Nation,’ I’d be more concerned with the ups and downs of the starting line-up. Offensively, no team since the 1988 Dodgers has won the World Series with more than one everyday starter hitting under .240. The Red Sox have two such stars in Jason Varitek (.224) and David Ortiz (.230.) Although not technically “everyday starters,” Nick Green, who is hitting .230, and Casey Kotchman, currently sporting a lusty .216, clearly help to lower the offensive curve. Bye-bye BoSox.
1. New York Yankees. The Yankees are very, very confident. But two things must be remembered; One, the Phillies took two-out-of-three in the regular season, on the Yanks’ home turf (what is the name of that place where they play now?). Two, the Yankees have A-Rod. Enough said.
Wow, do I feel better now. Because as every hot blooded Philadelphia fan knows, half of what propels us is the ability to scream at the other team, “We might suck, but you suck worse than we do.” So come on Brad, pull it together. In a year where everyone else is so bad, you don’t have to be perfect.
I can hardly wait for the parade.
It was the spring of 1994, and I was still numb. The cold winter had only intensified that frozen moment in my mind’s eye. You know the one. I don’t have to remind you. I don’t have to say his name – the other JC – the savior of Toronto. His was the only walk off grand slam in the history of the World Series, and it chilled my fragile, adolescent heart.
I opened the paper, eager, hoping I might find a different box score, a happier result, or maybe even a preview to the Game 7 that never happened. Instead, I found something totally different.
There, on the second page of the Philadelphia Inquirer’s sports section, under the heading, ‘MLB STANDINGS,’ new zeros had spread and divided. These clones took their places in vertical columns of ‘Wins,’ ‘Losses,’ ‘Winning Percentage,’ ‘Games Behind,’ and ‘Last 10.’ But now, the teams, whose play they represented, were mixed and matched in six divisions, instead of four. A ‘Central’ division had sprung up – out of nowhere – in the American and National Leagues. The Braves had somehow migrated to the Eastern Division (what a novel thought, considering their proximity to the Atlantic Ocean). And, the Milwaukee Brewers had jumped ship and found a new home in the National League? Whoa!
Realignment happened prior to the 1994 season, and I was none too thrilled. I thought it would detract from the importance of “Winning the Pennant.” I believed it would mar the tradition of the leagues, and the rivalries within them. And I insisted that the term ‘Wild Card,’ was one reserved for the NFL, family poker nights, and the likelihood of my mother’s punctuality.
I was wrong. I was way wrong.
Realignment has been awesome for the game of baseball. Today is August 21st. There are less than six weeks remaining in the MLB season and 15 teams still have hopes of making the playoffs. That’s if you include teams within 5 games of a division lead or a wild card spot. If you extend that deficit to 7 games – the same margin the Phillies overcame in two weeks last season – you can resuscitate Minnesota and Seattle (for now) and raise that number to 17 teams. That’s more than half the league!
What once appeared merely to be a superfluous tidying of the divisions has changed the name of the economic-game in baseball. What MLB did fifteen years ago is now enabling more teams to engage their fans deeper into the season, thus prolonging positive revenue streams from ticket sales, concessions, merchandise, and playoff packages. Now, it doesn’t matter if you have a world champion. It doesn’t even matter if you win the pennant. A franchise maintains success as long as it fields a team that can keep fans interested by contending for a division title or staying in the hunt for a wild card spot late into the season.
On August 1st, the day after the trade deadline, ESPN’s talking heads decided (however prematurely) that enough dust had settled, so they rolled tape and handed out report cards grading teams on their just-completed deadline deals. I chose, instead, to wait a few weeks, and see how last month’s trades would help prolong playoff hopes for teams around the league.
So, without further adieu, here are “The Cheese Whizard’s Winners and Losers: MLB Trade Deadline Edition.”
WINNERS: LOS ANGELES DODGERS
The Dodgers made a small move, by picking up left-handed reliever George Sherrill from the Orioles. And for a team that was leading the majors with a 62-37 record when the deadline week started, small was sufficient.
The only way the Dodgers can improve upon last year is to survive a likely NLCS match-up with the Philadelphia Phillies. The combination of the Phillies left-hand heavy line-up, the Dodger’s dearth of left-handed relievers, and the memory of the Game 4 bullpen debacle from a year ago make this move exactly what Los Chavez Ravineros needed. Besides, thanks to Kobe, their fan base will be unmoved by anything short of a world championship.
Sherrill has pitched in 9 games in Dodger blue, and hasn’t given up a run yet.
LOSERS: CHICAGO CUBS
The Cubs did nothing. Nothing. Nil. Nada.
Ok, they picked up Tom Gorzelanny and John Grabow from the Pirates. But two middle inning relievers are not what you need when Ryan Dempster and Ted Lilly (your #2 and #3 starters) are on the disabled list at the trade deadline. Then, to add injury to insult, Carlos Zambrano (their #1) fell to the DL just one week after the trade deadline.
I understand that the Cubs have drafted poorly, and therefore have no big prospects to use as trade bait. I understand that the Tribune Company is uncapping its felt tip – as we speak – to sign over the team, and Wrigley Field, for $920 million. I understand that Cubs’ fans will stay engaged, no matter what. But, The Cardinals made great moves for Matt Holiday, Mark DeRosa, and now John Smoltz. The Brewers and the Reds are stacked with young talent that will make them dangerous in the future. And the Cubs – the team everyone picked to win the NL Central – did nothing.
The night before the trade deadline, the Cubs slept on a ½ game lead, in the NL Central. They now trail the Cards by 7 games. They don’t have to win a world championship. They don’t even have to win the pennant. But they should stop taking advantage of an overly loyal fan base that has been patient, even while being outright abused, for over 100 years.
WINNERS: CHICAGO WHITE SOX & DETROIT TIGERS
I love the American League Central. Maybe it’s Ozzie. Maybe it’s Leyland. Maybe it’s Mauer, Morneau, and the Twins ability – every year – to stay in the hunt on a small budget. Whatever it is, I love it. But let’s be honest, no team from the AL Central will be throwing a parade this fall. (Admittedly, although, it would be way cool if the Tigers could pull off a miracle for their city in despair.)
Success in the AL Central is measured by – exactly that – success in the AL Central. So, when Detroit added Jarrod Washburn to Justin Verlander, effectively solidifying the best one-two punch in baseball, Chicago wasted no time in sealing the deal for Jake Peavy. And if Peavy comes back from injury pitching the way he did this spring, he and Mark Burhle could go toe-to-toe with Verlander and Washburn. Bravo, two times.
The Tigers lead the ChiSox by 2.5 games. This one will be tight to the finish.
LOSERS: TORONTO BLUE JAYS
JP Ricciardi’s inability to move Roy Halladay doesn’t make the Blue Jays losers. What does make them losers is everything else he has done for the past 8 years. I exaggerate.
I was ready to praise Ricciardi for sticking to his guns. He set a steep price for his ace, and nobody offered him what he wanted. So he kept Halladay and insisted that they would, instead, “Try to win with him next year.” THEN, he traded 7-time Gold Glover Scott Rolen to the Reds, GAVE Alex Rios to the Chicago White Sox (yes, I said “GAVE,” as in, “for nothing”). He then put Vernon Wells, with his 7-year, $126 million contract, on “For Sale” signs all over the country, begging, praying, that some team, any team with a wallet, really, would take Wells off his hands.
Who exactly is Ricciardi trying to win WITH next year?
Still, Halladay makes the Jays a hot ticket at least one night a week in 2010.
WINNERS: BOSTON RED SOX
The Red Sox made the most crucial move of the entire season. They acquired Victor Martinez from the Cleveland Indians. Though Martinez is batting .324, with 5 homeruns, and 14 RBI in just 17 games with the BoSox, the deal to acquire him was significant for other reasons.
On July 30th, David Ortiz became the latest Major League slugger to show up on “The List.” The revelation that he tested positive for PED’s in 2003 exposed not only Ortiz, but also a large contingent of Boston’s 2004 championship team.
The next day, Theo Epstein pulled the trigger on Martinez, and gave a clinic in PR. He deflected the attention from Boston’s cloudy past, and shed light on the possibility of a bright future. Well done, Theo. They don’t call you the “Boy Wonder” for nothing.
LOSERS: PITTSBURGH PIRATES
Once again, the Pirates traded everyone.
Operating a baseball franchise in a small market is difficult. Drafting well, developing within, buying low, and selling high, are all important strategies in Pittsburgh, Oakland, Minnesota, Kansas City, and a handful of other cities in baseball. And the good news is that the Pirates now have a TON of new, young talent to sift through.
But here’s what troubles me about the Pirates…
In 2001, they moved into PNC Park, which is highly regarded as one of the nicest new stadiums in baseball. Of the $216 million it cost to build the place, the Pirates organization only contributed $40 million. And while average attendance peaked at 30,000 per night during the stadium’s first few seasons, last years average fell to 20,113, and last week, attendance failed to crack 13,000 during a three game set with the Brewers.
Playing the financial game is one thing. But when a kid walks into a ballpark and finds that the guy whose jersey he is wearing doesn’t play for the team anymore, he’s going to be hurt. And so is the team.
WINNERS: PHILADELPHIA PHILLIES
I won’t brag. I won’t boast. Cliff Lee is 4-0, with 0.82 ERA, and 2 complete games since joining the defending champs.
The Phillies have made a ton of money since October, and in July, they did what was necessary to keep their fans engaged. They gave them hope of winning it all, again.
But this move was huge for another reason. Ruben Amaro Jr. is the new kid on the block, and he showed his brass in a pressure cooker of a situation. Where many a young GM might have taken the bait, he passed on Roy Halladay, who is now 2-3 with a 3.41 ERA since the trade deadline, and held on to his valued treasures, in JA Happ, Kyle Drabek, and Dominic Brown.
When it was reported that Michael Vick had signed a two-year deal with the Philadelphia Eagles, my mind paged through all possible excuses for why NOT to comment on the Eagles and Vick. I wanted no part of it. But you all refused, and here’s how it sounded.
“Dear Cheese, I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. I can’t say I’m proud of this one.”
“Hey Cheese, How ‘bout those Philadelphia Dog Killas! Ruff, Ruff!”
“Michael Vick, huh, CheeseWhizard? Why doesn’t city council just drop a bomb near South Street, and urinate on the remains? Opposing fans are going to eat you alive.”
“Whiz, I hate this. Help.”
“Dear Cheese, Michael Vick: The furtherance of that lowlife Andy Reid's goal to hire other lowlifes. Next thing you know he’ll put his own kids on the Eagles payroll. The most eloquent reason yet to hate the Eagles.”
I want to hate it. I do.
On September 12, 2007, I brought home my very own 11-week-old Boston Terrier. Marley was my first dog, and is my best friend. And when Michael Vick was indicted two weeks later for running a dog-fighting ring out of his home in Virginia, I picked up my new best friend, held her against my chest, and prayed that she would never know the trauma that Vick’s dogs experienced. I prayed that she would never encounter a monster capable of drowning, electrocuting, or shooting perfectly healthy creatures because they weren’t good enough killers themselves.
But no matter how emotionally scarred by and unforgiving we are of Michael Vick’s past transgressions, we mustn’t forget that today’s dilemma is not one of personal acceptance. Today’s dilemma is one of social restoration. Commissioner Roger Goodell, Eagles President Joe Banner, owner Jeffrey Lurie and Coach Andy Reid aren’t asking you to be Michael Vick’s friend. They’re asking you to let him have his job back. So why do we hate it so much?
Michael Vick hasn’t endured enough punishment. No, that’s not it. Guidelines for his sentencing had most legal experts forecasting a 12-18 month term for the crimes Vick committed. He spent 23 months in prison. If our society sets the rules, and our society governs the punishment, then why shouldn’t our society hold up its end of the bargain and reinstate this man? If the issue is rooted in the length of his term, then the beef is with the judicial system, not the NFL, not the Eagles, and certainly not with Michael Vick himself.
We could argue all day about sentencing, and the seemingly arbitrary nature with which today’s court’s dole out prison sentences, but the fact of the matter is prison wasn’t the most painful blow. Michael Vick lost over $100 million in endorsement contracts, filed for bankruptcy protection as his debt neared $50 million, and lost out on over two seasons during the prime of his NFL playing career.
This is a Public Relations nightmare for the Philadelphia Eagles. Sure, it is. There will be lines of protestors picketing outside Lincoln Financial Field, and likely every other stadium the Eagles’ team bus rolls into this season. But think of all the people you know who are members of PETA. They all own animals, right? Most of them have adopted those pets from the SPCA or shelters, right? Many of those animals had behavior problems, social anxieties, and maybe even ferocious and violent tendencies that pushed them to bite or endanger other dogs and even people, right? These PETA members willingly stepped in and took responsibility for animals that didn’t know any better, weren’t disciplined correctly, and were cast away by a society who let them fall to the wayside. But when given the opportunity to readmit a fallen human being, they turn their nose up in disgust, and walk away?
How can we let this man be a role model? Let’s be honest, if this were Joe The Truck Driver, nobody would care if he did his time, paid his dues, asked for his old job, and went back to business hauling loads up and down I-95 at 40 cents a mile. But this is Michael Vick, and he is a role model. Why, because we chose to make him one. But in the words of the always-eloquent Charles Barkley, “Just because I can dunk a basketball doesn’t mean I should raise your kids.” At some point, people will realize that sport is entertainment. Jamie Foxx can write a song called, “Blame It on the Alcohol,” and Britney Spears, one entitled, “If You Seek Amy.” (Sound it out people) More young girls are concerned with Lindsay Lohan’s and Nicole Richie ’s sexcapades than boys are with Vick’s deviations, but those other entertainers aren’t held to the same role model standards. Why?
Growing up at the change of the millenium, we haven’t learned our lessons from watching players live like gentlemen. We learned that from our parents. From McGuire and Palmeiro we learned not to do steroids, lest we too fall from grace. We learned not to cork our bats from watching Sammy Sosa, embarrassed. We learned how to be honest when we watched man-child Danny Almonte dominate the Little League World Series, and then forfeit his team’s third place finish when it was found out he was really 14, not 12. Sadly, we even learned how to practice safe sex from listening to Magic Johnson. Kids won’t look at Michael Vick and think it’s acceptable to kill dogs. Kids will remember what kept him out of the game for two years. And they won’t make the same mistake.
As far as the game on the field is concerned, I can’t find a reason why Vick is bad for the Eagles.
With McNabb at quarterback, Andy Reid will find other ways to use Vick – splitting him out wide, putting him in the backfield, using the direct snap – ultimately taking the defensive focus off of the banged up Brian Westbrook.
If McNabb doesn’t perform over the next two seasons, gets hurt (as he has so many times before), or can’t come to terms with the Eagles two years from now, who better to take the reigns of this west coast offense than the runner and gunner in Vick.
But, most importantly, Michael Vick could push Donovan McNabb over the hump, forcing him to be the leader that he has never been; the leader who wins a Super Bowl. McNabb has spent 9 comfortable years with this franchise, and has never been threatened by a back up. His understudies - Kevin Kolb, AJ Feeley, Koy Detmer, Mike McMahon, Jeff Blake, and Tim Hasselbeck – have had an average career quarterback rating of 58.2. Only Jeff Garcia, with a rating of 90.2 brought anything worthwhile to the table, and the organization let him go after he led the team to the playoffs during McNabb’s 2006 injury.
I want to hate it. I do. I just can’t justify my discontent. He’s a man, who, by our own rules, has earned another chance. Why should we be so upset about giving it to him?
More and more, I feel like a stranger to my own society. I don’t understand people. I don’t understand how they can be entertained by the things they watch, nourished by the things they eat, enhanced by the things they buy, or enriched by the gossip they read. But more than any of these behaviors, I am most mystified by the things that cause us to be surprised.
In a society where celebrity and fame are acquired by the whim of the public’s reaction to image and profile, and not necessarily from an appreciation of actual talent, we act surprised when grown animals bite off their opponent’s ears in the ring, when childhood stars, robbed of their youth, continue into adulthood to carry on like children, or when guy-liner wearing American Idols are captured by the tabloids making out with other men. Why are we so surprised? Fame comes about more so from the titillation of the public, which encourages bad behavior because it makes for a juicier story. As a result, our “stars” get to where they are by acting the way they do. Why should they stop now?
Yet, this week, columnist Rick Reilly, a good writer, I think, criticized Tiger Woods for his tantrums on the golf course at the Open. Says Reilly, “Tiger Woods has outgrown those Urkel glasses…the crazy hair…(and) a body that was mostly neck…When will he outgrow his temper?”
Tiger Woods is a winner. He always has been and likely always will be. The numbers don’t lie, you know how often he has won, and you know that he is the greatest golfer to ever walk this planet.
You don’t become the best by making winning a priority. You become the best by making winning THE priority. You carry in your gut a desire and passion to win, so strong that the idea of being unable to win would make you want to quit altogether.
The intensity with which Tiger Woods plays the game is exactly what brought him his celebrity in the first place. The 330-yard cannons, 3-woods over water, cutting two irons out of fairway traps, 50-foot eagle bombs, with fist pumps to finish, and yes, unfortunately, the driver slams into the tee box are the good, and bad, images of a game played with the utmost passion. The PGA Tour is what it is today – a behemoth industry with yearly purses soaring from $70 million to over $250 million - largely because Tiger Woods has elevated the level of play and boosted the passion meter, virtually singlehandedly. And the correlation between Woods’ involvement in modern golf and enhanced TV revenue and sponsor involvement is undeniable. Nothing demonstrates this better than to consider that when Tiger went on hiatus for knee surgery last year, television ratings sagged by an astounding 50%. Tiger Woods’ image as the Nike Golf Poster Child is earning Nike Golf more than $500 million per year. It’s possible that Nike is almost as concerned with Tiger’s foul mouth as they were with Michael Jordan’s gambling.
Speaking of Jordan, let’s not forget that Tiger isn’t just another guy on the PGA tour. He is one of the best athletes in history. His peers are not Vijay Singh, David Toms, or Mike Weir. His peers are Michael Jordan, Babe Ruth, Wayne Gretzky, Ty Cobb, Jim Brown, and Muhammad Ali. Ali, Brown and Gretzky toiled in sports that involved the infliction of physical pain upon opponents, so commending them for their good behavior would be a bit unfair. Jordan used to yell at his teammates and the referees. Everyone who ever met Ty Cobb hated him for being the jerk he was unanimously reported to be, and The Red Sox traded The Bambino after his bad boy behavior - a drunk driving accident with a woman who wasn’t his wife, and a thrown punch at an umpire that resulted in a nine game suspension - began to raise resentment in the clubhouse. Yet Reilly condemns Tiger for yelling at himself after poor shots?
In modern sports, bad behavior is a cottage industry, even among the big stars. One need only to think of George Brett running at the umpire over pine tar, Jeff Van Gundy trying disgracefully to hold back Alonzo Mourning, Ron Artest punching out fans in the stands, Tanya Harding clubbing Nancy Kerrigan, Roberto Alomar spitting in the face of umpire John Herschbeck, Bobby Knight throwing the chair, Bobby Knight choking his player, Bobby Knight assaulting Jeremy Schapp, - wow, how ‘bout that Bobby Knight - Roger Clemens throwing Piazza’s bat, Dennis Rodman kicking the photographer. Where into that line of admirable behavior do we insert Tiger Woods yelling at,.......well,.......at...... himself?
There is bad behavior that flows from questionable character, and bad behavior that comes from caring too much. Tiger never steps on anyone’s line, rolls his ball in the fairway, or elbows a spectator on a trip into or out of the wayward rough. He doesn’t typically shout during Phil’s back swing. And when I was serving him at a club in New York five years ago, he drank water and sat quietly talking with his friends, Jeter and Jordan, while they took turns passing the half-dozen gathered glamorous models from lap to lap.
True story.
Next year, around this time, go to any public golf course in America. Ask any ten guys you meet there to name the winners of this year’s US Open and British Open Championships. Do you think that half would be able to name both Lucas Glover AND Stewart Cink? Both are great golfers, and, by all accounts, great guys. The PGA Tour and the American President’s Cup team are better for having them this year. But, for cryin’ out loud, who are more boring than Lucas Glover and Stewart Cink? And if these guys typify the type of intensity the PGA Tour will be counting on 20 years from now, when Tiger is otherwise busy walking Sam Alexis down the aisle, golf may be in for a real popularity collapse. When Ivan Lendl rose to the forefront of professional tennis, taking the mantle from John McEnroe, McEnroe himself noted that the tennis world must be missing him, having instead to watch “the human robot, Ivan Lendl.” Does Lucas Glover, himself, yet know that he won the US Open?
Reilly makes the point that more kids watch Tiger than any other golfer, and more kids mimic Tiger than any other athlete, and bad behavior makes for “role model” issues. The kids have no choice but to watch Tiger, the TV programmers see to that. They make sure every single one of his shots is televised. Who knows, maybe Stewart Cink snapped a putter over his knee last Thursday. But the kids wouldn’t have seen it, because ABC’s Mike Tirico was too busy gushing over Tiger, and commentator Andy North was otherwise unavailable, glued to Tom Watson’s Titleists.
For Tiger, “Winning isn’t everything, but wanting to win is.” If winning isn’t important to you, involve your children in arts and music, because golf is a competition, and the object of the game is to win. And Tiger Woods has now given a fifteen-year clinic on overcoming adversity, performing under pressure, and, well, winning.
To do everything that Tiger Woods does, and there is little he does half-heartedly, there has to be some separation. Family time is for Elin and the kids, practice time is for Hank Haney, Tiger Woods Foundation time is for the children of the world, and Major Championship time is for Tiger. Hell, Major Championship time is for all of us out here in the world of sports. It’s his opportunity to be selfish and his opportunity to be the superhero, at the same time.
Why should we be surprised when he behaves just as he always has, especially if he lets himself down while also letting all of us down, too?
It’s too bad Reilly doesn’t seem to get it. It’s right in front of his nose, particularly when he cites in his very column the anecdote that explains it all, the essence of Tiger Woods:
One day, when Tiger was just a kid, he was throwing his clubs around in a fuming fit when his dad said something like "Tiger, golf is supposed to be fun." And Tiger said, "Daddy, I want to win. That's how I have fun."
The Cheese Whizard is back. And before I can even begin to apologize for the absence, we must discuss a crucial off-season incident.