How sad.
How sad that Juan Williams got the whack from NPR for expressing his feelings. If you follow the news you have had a few days to digest the story. Here's what Williams said on Fox's The O'Reilly Factor:
"I mean, look, Bill, I'm not a bigot. You know the kind of books I've written about the civil rights movement in this country," Williams said. "But when I get on a plane, I got to tell you, if I see people who are in Muslim garb and I think, you know, they are identifying themselves first and foremost as Muslims, I get worried. I get nervous."
He went on to say that not everyone in a religious group, Christian or Muslim, should be lumped in with extremists.
Juan Williams has been around a while. He worked at The Washington Post for over 20 years before joining NPR and contributes regularly to publications such as The Wall Street Journal and The New York Times.
I found this commentary from the Journal particularly interesting:
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB123249791178500439.html
He also appears on Fox News, and as Hamlet said, "Aye, there's the rub."
It's those pesky Fox News appearances that have him in hot water, much more than his comments about Muslims.
He shows up on The O'Reilly Factor, a show I catch from time to time. I'm a political junkie, so I catch them all.
Bill O'Reilly is a classic bully, his counterparts on MSNBC classic nerds, and all would probably wear my labels with honor.
O'Reilly brings people on his show who disagree with him. Credit him for that. But most get pummeled worse than a Cub Scout at a Hell's Angels rally. O'Reilly is like the kid on the playground who snags a cupcake from your lunchbox, knocks out your front teeth and then thanks you for joining him.
So Juan Williams is a regular on Fox News. And somehow, in NPR CEO Vivian Shiller's alternate universe, his time on NPR was as an "analyst," therefore he was not allowed to express his opinions elsewhere. If he were a "commentator" he could say what he wants.
Huh?
Juan Williams has been giving (dare I say commentating) what most would call moderate opinions for years.
But the Juan Williams affair is just noise. The real story is that as a society we continue to focus on "gotcha" moments that squelch necessary dialogue about prejudice and fear.
Kind of like when I hear, "I'm not racist, but" or "I'm not sexist but," roughly translated as "I'm about to say something racist or sexist."
In 1993 Jesse Jackson famously said:
"I hate to admit it, but I have reached a stage in my life that if I am walking down a dark street late at night and I see that the person behind me is white, I subconsciously feel relieved."
We all have prejudices. We all have fears. If we can't talk about it respectfully, how do we move forward?
Monday, October 25, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Tackles, Twits and Tweens
Tossing the ball around
Patrick Mannelly. If you are a Bears fan you are probably familiar with him. If not, you're not.
Patrick Mannelly set a record last month by playing in his 193rd game as a Chicago Bear.
193 games. More than Payton, Dent, George, Grange or any other Bear. Ever.
Patrick Mannelly is a long snapper. He comes in on punts and extra points, maybe 10 plays a game. In 13 seasons he has probably made about $9 million bucks.
WHAT A COUNTRY!!!!
Nobody noticed him until last August when he got hurt in training camp and missed a game. They stuck Desmond Clark, a tight end, in his spot and it was brutal.
I am planning to play catch with my son through his legs. Got to keep the options open.
Reminds me of the saying about left handed pitchers - there's always a roster spot if their arm hasn't fallen off.
Put a Fork in it...Please
Speaking of the Bears, there has been lots of commentary about their wobbly 4-1 start. Most of it spot on. But a couple of reporters accused media and fans of "drinking the Bears Kool Aid."
There it is again. "Kool Aid" references are everywhere, aren't they? We all march up and mindlessly "drink" whatever message is being delivered.
Just like The People's Temple. Just like Jonestown.
We have managed to ditch a lot of cultural references through the years, but somehow "drinking the Kool Aid" won't go away.
My wife was in a play called "The People's Temple" a couple of years ago, a performance which coincided with the 30th anniversary of the Jonestown massacre.
It was an intense, moving piece. Over 900 people were murdered in Jonestown, nearly of them 300 children. It wasn't suicide. It was mass murder.
Yet somehow we continue to find humor in the notion of "drinking the Kool Aid."
Can't we come up with a better metaphor?
Tweet Tweet
I have two twelve year olds. Tween twins. They just got cell phones, so somehow their lives are complete.
I was talking with my daughter the other day between texts and the subject of pay phones came up.
"Do you know what a pay phone is," I asked. She flashed a brief, blank look, then said she did.
As with all things tween, I have a healthy skepticism.
I doubt she's ever seen a pay phone. I struggle to remember the last time I saw one. Cells, pads, pods and berries are ubiquitous.
I read recently that college kids don't email, they text. Some experts predict email will be obsolete in a few years. Too slow.
A few years ago we stopped at an ice cream parlor and my kids were mesmerized by the jukebox. They had never seen vinyl.
I remember standing in the hallway of my dorm waiting for the pay phone.
I also remember 8 tracks and typewriters. Barely.
What else will "disappear" in our lifetime, and when?
Patrick Mannelly. If you are a Bears fan you are probably familiar with him. If not, you're not.
Patrick Mannelly set a record last month by playing in his 193rd game as a Chicago Bear.
193 games. More than Payton, Dent, George, Grange or any other Bear. Ever.
Patrick Mannelly is a long snapper. He comes in on punts and extra points, maybe 10 plays a game. In 13 seasons he has probably made about $9 million bucks.
WHAT A COUNTRY!!!!
Nobody noticed him until last August when he got hurt in training camp and missed a game. They stuck Desmond Clark, a tight end, in his spot and it was brutal.
I am planning to play catch with my son through his legs. Got to keep the options open.
Reminds me of the saying about left handed pitchers - there's always a roster spot if their arm hasn't fallen off.
Put a Fork in it...Please
Speaking of the Bears, there has been lots of commentary about their wobbly 4-1 start. Most of it spot on. But a couple of reporters accused media and fans of "drinking the Bears Kool Aid."
There it is again. "Kool Aid" references are everywhere, aren't they? We all march up and mindlessly "drink" whatever message is being delivered.
Just like The People's Temple. Just like Jonestown.
We have managed to ditch a lot of cultural references through the years, but somehow "drinking the Kool Aid" won't go away.
My wife was in a play called "The People's Temple" a couple of years ago, a performance which coincided with the 30th anniversary of the Jonestown massacre.
It was an intense, moving piece. Over 900 people were murdered in Jonestown, nearly of them 300 children. It wasn't suicide. It was mass murder.
Yet somehow we continue to find humor in the notion of "drinking the Kool Aid."
Can't we come up with a better metaphor?
Tweet Tweet
I have two twelve year olds. Tween twins. They just got cell phones, so somehow their lives are complete.
I was talking with my daughter the other day between texts and the subject of pay phones came up.
"Do you know what a pay phone is," I asked. She flashed a brief, blank look, then said she did.
As with all things tween, I have a healthy skepticism.
I doubt she's ever seen a pay phone. I struggle to remember the last time I saw one. Cells, pads, pods and berries are ubiquitous.
I read recently that college kids don't email, they text. Some experts predict email will be obsolete in a few years. Too slow.
A few years ago we stopped at an ice cream parlor and my kids were mesmerized by the jukebox. They had never seen vinyl.
I remember standing in the hallway of my dorm waiting for the pay phone.
I also remember 8 tracks and typewriters. Barely.
What else will "disappear" in our lifetime, and when?
Monday, October 4, 2010
Lunkers and Lawyers
A few years ago there was an ad campaign called "Take Me Fishing." You can check out the ad here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U7cpTeAOb6M
I tear up every time I see it.
Fishing is one of my great loves. Always has been, though I have really grown to appreciate it as a father of four.
My Dad took me regularly. We even did a couple of trips to Canada. In Canada the routine is eat, fish, eat, fish, eat, play cards, sleep, repeat. Kids in Canada keep crank bait in their lunch box. Like the two sports in Texas (football and spring football), Canada has fishing and ice fishing.
Years ago I began to introduce fishing to my kids. We started with the local park fishing program, then "graduated" to a couple of nearby lakes and lagoons. During weekend getaways I loaded gear in the car, hoping to find a quiet fishing hole.
Fishing with young kids is an adventure. Most time is spent untangling lines and baiting hooks. It amazed me how quickly I would look up from the tackle box to find lines wrapped around each other, or around a kid. Success defined as being an o-fer on emergency room trips.
One time I had to release a small mouth that was in bad shape with the hook in pretty deep. We continued fishing when a gull swooped down next to the boat and grabbed our forgotten catch. The look on the kid's faces was priceless.
My daughter was in the habit of naming the worms as she fished. Somehow seeing me yank and hook Lizzie McGuire never upset her.
My son was all business, and shrewd at that, asking me to cast the line and hook the fish before he reeled it in.
One morning back home we were walking along when my son looked over a bridge and asked, "Are there bass in there?"
With age and experience came my son's growing excitement at being able to use "lawyers" instead of worms. He meant lures, but who am I to correct him?
Why fish?
I love hot coffee and the stillness of nature's morning. I love listening to the loons and geese. I love gettin' back on the water for 20 or 30 minutes at the end of the day. It's not about the fish.
I enjoy the serenity that comes from time alone. No phone, blackberry, T.V. or IPod. Our time, with nothing to do but fish. And talk. Take me fishing...anytime.
How do you bond with your kids?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U7cpTeAOb6M
I tear up every time I see it.
Fishing is one of my great loves. Always has been, though I have really grown to appreciate it as a father of four.
My Dad took me regularly. We even did a couple of trips to Canada. In Canada the routine is eat, fish, eat, fish, eat, play cards, sleep, repeat. Kids in Canada keep crank bait in their lunch box. Like the two sports in Texas (football and spring football), Canada has fishing and ice fishing.
Years ago I began to introduce fishing to my kids. We started with the local park fishing program, then "graduated" to a couple of nearby lakes and lagoons. During weekend getaways I loaded gear in the car, hoping to find a quiet fishing hole.
Fishing with young kids is an adventure. Most time is spent untangling lines and baiting hooks. It amazed me how quickly I would look up from the tackle box to find lines wrapped around each other, or around a kid. Success defined as being an o-fer on emergency room trips.
One time I had to release a small mouth that was in bad shape with the hook in pretty deep. We continued fishing when a gull swooped down next to the boat and grabbed our forgotten catch. The look on the kid's faces was priceless.
My daughter was in the habit of naming the worms as she fished. Somehow seeing me yank and hook Lizzie McGuire never upset her.
My son was all business, and shrewd at that, asking me to cast the line and hook the fish before he reeled it in.
One morning back home we were walking along when my son looked over a bridge and asked, "Are there bass in there?"
With age and experience came my son's growing excitement at being able to use "lawyers" instead of worms. He meant lures, but who am I to correct him?
Why fish?
I love hot coffee and the stillness of nature's morning. I love listening to the loons and geese. I love gettin' back on the water for 20 or 30 minutes at the end of the day. It's not about the fish.
I enjoy the serenity that comes from time alone. No phone, blackberry, T.V. or IPod. Our time, with nothing to do but fish. And talk. Take me fishing...anytime.
How do you bond with your kids?
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Party Poopers
A recent Saturday started out well. Despite me, my wife and two of my kids battling various stages of allergies/flu/sinus infections we decided to go out for breakfast.
"Started out well" is a relative term. When dining out with the shorties, "well" is a meal that involves any combination of the following:
- Less than 5 utensils thrown on the floor
- Less than 5 sugar packets, crackers or liquid creamer packets broken or spilled on the table
- No vomit, gas or body malfunctions
- Two complete sentences spoken by an adult without interjecting (pleading?) a child's name
So yes, while the meal went well, it was the drive that went strange. As we approached a construction zone outside a mall, I came to a stop along with the other cars while two cars waited to turn through our lane.
In one car a man blared away on his horn. Mind you, none of us were moving until the distant light changed.
There was nowhere to go, but this guy clearly had brain surgery to conduct at Starbucks and did not let up. As the light changed and he drove by, we all got to hear his expletive filled tirade, which he screamed out the window while on a cell phone.
Tough to explain that one to the kids, huh? No need. Just one angry dude. It would have, however, been quite the teachable (YouTube) moment if we had watched an enraged, distracted driver plow into another car or a construction horse.
On another recent afternoon, I was walking the dog while pushing my three year-old in her stroller. The hound took a pit stop and I picked it up and placed it into a sealed plastic bag. We had a good ways to go and as I came across a garbage can at the curb I tossed the bag inside.
Bad idea.
I heard a man yell from behind. Maybe six feet tall, a cut off t-shirt and lunch pail. Apparently it was his house and he was upset that I used his garbage can. "I hate when people do that," he yelled. I said I was just being a good neighbor by picking it up and had a ways to go. Then he, ahem, put down his lunch pail and approached as if willing to start a fist fight. Over a bag of poop. In front of my daughter. I stood there, he backed off, and we continued on our walk.
I thought about it again after reading the "Poop Rage" story below:
http://cbs2chicago.com/wireapnewsil/Chicago.area.woman.2.1918953.html
So my question in all three cases is: What gives?
What on earth is going on in someones life that they become so enraged over something so trivial?
It's a reminder to me, to us, that we are all vulnerable. None of us know what lives in the minds and hearts of others. Looking into the eyes of both men was sad, not scary.
The scary part is what we don't see. What happens next.
"Started out well" is a relative term. When dining out with the shorties, "well" is a meal that involves any combination of the following:
- Less than 5 utensils thrown on the floor
- Less than 5 sugar packets, crackers or liquid creamer packets broken or spilled on the table
- No vomit, gas or body malfunctions
- Two complete sentences spoken by an adult without interjecting (pleading?) a child's name
So yes, while the meal went well, it was the drive that went strange. As we approached a construction zone outside a mall, I came to a stop along with the other cars while two cars waited to turn through our lane.
In one car a man blared away on his horn. Mind you, none of us were moving until the distant light changed.
There was nowhere to go, but this guy clearly had brain surgery to conduct at Starbucks and did not let up. As the light changed and he drove by, we all got to hear his expletive filled tirade, which he screamed out the window while on a cell phone.
Tough to explain that one to the kids, huh? No need. Just one angry dude. It would have, however, been quite the teachable (YouTube) moment if we had watched an enraged, distracted driver plow into another car or a construction horse.
On another recent afternoon, I was walking the dog while pushing my three year-old in her stroller. The hound took a pit stop and I picked it up and placed it into a sealed plastic bag. We had a good ways to go and as I came across a garbage can at the curb I tossed the bag inside.
Bad idea.
I heard a man yell from behind. Maybe six feet tall, a cut off t-shirt and lunch pail. Apparently it was his house and he was upset that I used his garbage can. "I hate when people do that," he yelled. I said I was just being a good neighbor by picking it up and had a ways to go. Then he, ahem, put down his lunch pail and approached as if willing to start a fist fight. Over a bag of poop. In front of my daughter. I stood there, he backed off, and we continued on our walk.
I thought about it again after reading the "Poop Rage" story below:
http://cbs2chicago.com/wireapnewsil/Chicago.area.woman.2.1918953.html
So my question in all three cases is: What gives?
What on earth is going on in someones life that they become so enraged over something so trivial?
It's a reminder to me, to us, that we are all vulnerable. None of us know what lives in the minds and hearts of others. Looking into the eyes of both men was sad, not scary.
The scary part is what we don't see. What happens next.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
America, Land of the...Poor?
I was struck by a recent news item.
Forget struck. How about floored, shocked, dismayed.
The poverty rate is now at 14.3% - the highest level since the 1950s, when the statistic was first measured.
And poverty, for a family of four, is an annual household income of $21,954.
1 in 7 Americans lives in poverty. And these days, 7 of 7 live with uncertainty, don't they?
Our economy plugs along with the grace of an "el" train, and the gap between "rich" and poor grows. I use the term "rich" loosely because somehow I fall under this definition in some political circles.
I ain't rich. Blessed? Yes. But if I'm rich Donald Trump wears a rug.
1 in 7 are poor.
Perhaps it's no coincidence that the story broke after several loons rocked the political establishment on primary night.
I'm not a fan of "isms." Racism, sexism, ageism.
Or extremism.
Extremism is a bipartisan "movement," with adherents on all sides of the political spectrum.
We lack moderation these days in our political discourse. Many argue we have for a while, which makes getting together on an issue like poverty a pipe dream.
Lots to consider in combating poverty, but I tend to simplify it with three main factors:
1. We spend a ton of money to educate our kids, who overall fall short of other industrialized nations in science and math. But we spend much less in poor areas due to funding heavily reliant of property taxes.
2. Kids who grow up in single parent homes are victimized by a welfare system that still punishes families for sticking together.
3. Kids who grow up in cities face crumbling roads, schools and infrastructure. The race to suburbia has left many who can find a job either unable to get there or faced with hours of public commuting.
A commitment to rail lines and buses would be great (A transportation "Marshall Plan"?), except there's no cash.
And the problem isn't limited to cities. The face of poverty is rural, urban, and sadly American.
What would you do to combat poverty? I would love to hear from you.
Forget struck. How about floored, shocked, dismayed.
The poverty rate is now at 14.3% - the highest level since the 1950s, when the statistic was first measured.
And poverty, for a family of four, is an annual household income of $21,954.
1 in 7 Americans lives in poverty. And these days, 7 of 7 live with uncertainty, don't they?
Our economy plugs along with the grace of an "el" train, and the gap between "rich" and poor grows. I use the term "rich" loosely because somehow I fall under this definition in some political circles.
I ain't rich. Blessed? Yes. But if I'm rich Donald Trump wears a rug.
1 in 7 are poor.
Perhaps it's no coincidence that the story broke after several loons rocked the political establishment on primary night.
I'm not a fan of "isms." Racism, sexism, ageism.
Or extremism.
Extremism is a bipartisan "movement," with adherents on all sides of the political spectrum.
We lack moderation these days in our political discourse. Many argue we have for a while, which makes getting together on an issue like poverty a pipe dream.
Lots to consider in combating poverty, but I tend to simplify it with three main factors:
1. We spend a ton of money to educate our kids, who overall fall short of other industrialized nations in science and math. But we spend much less in poor areas due to funding heavily reliant of property taxes.
2. Kids who grow up in single parent homes are victimized by a welfare system that still punishes families for sticking together.
3. Kids who grow up in cities face crumbling roads, schools and infrastructure. The race to suburbia has left many who can find a job either unable to get there or faced with hours of public commuting.
A commitment to rail lines and buses would be great (A transportation "Marshall Plan"?), except there's no cash.
And the problem isn't limited to cities. The face of poverty is rural, urban, and sadly American.
What would you do to combat poverty? I would love to hear from you.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
The Daley Double
Da Mayor is done. Chicago Mayor Richard M. Daley won't run. The Daley regime, and the Machine(?) comes to an abrupt end.
He says its time. Makes sense. Some argue its been time for a while, or that it's good to end it on his terms before voters do, with his approval ratings at a new low.
I think he's just had enough. You can see the stress on his face in recent years. The combination of his wife's illness, the botched Olympic bid and an (perceived?) increase in crime seemed to do him in.
There's also the not so small matter of a cash strapped city with a $600 million Visa bill.
He was a successful mayor, no question. Chicago remains a world class destination due mainly to Daley's relentless leadership. Pro business, pro arts, pro development, particularly the lakefront and downtown. He contributed mightily to Chicago's reputation as a city with a great "front yard."
But the "back yard" has it's share of old tires and sinks.
Daley rules with the subtlety of a burlesque show, treating aldermen like the "Whack a Groundhog" arcade game. Witness the midnight raid of Miegs Field or the selling of city assets. Are naming rights next? How about the "Jersey Shore" Drive or "Oprah" Field?
And corruption is rampant, with over 40 members of Daley's administration indicted in recent years. Cronies constantly cut insider deals, cashing more chits than an Ivy League admissions officer. We're left to wonder the indirect cost of each foot of wrought iron fencing to cops, firefighters and teachers.
Chicago's next mayor is going to have a lovely, showroom quality car. Just don't peek under the hood.
Neil Giuntoli's brilliant play "Hizzonor" opens with Giuntoli, as Daley's father, kneeling in his Bridgeport church. The Priest says "peace be with you" and the congregation responds "and also wit choo." Pure Chicago. Pure Daley.
The city that works, like sausage.
Da Bears
A quick note as we begin Lovie's farewell tour. Jay Cutler is a nice quarterback, but I have the sinking feeling he will running from defenses like his hair is on fire. The line is brutal, and my fear is that they are Puppy Chow to guys like Lions rookie Ndamukong Suh (a beast who tosses QB's like the morning paper) and the Vikings Jared Allen.
I hope I'm wrong. Just sayin'.
He says its time. Makes sense. Some argue its been time for a while, or that it's good to end it on his terms before voters do, with his approval ratings at a new low.
I think he's just had enough. You can see the stress on his face in recent years. The combination of his wife's illness, the botched Olympic bid and an (perceived?) increase in crime seemed to do him in.
There's also the not so small matter of a cash strapped city with a $600 million Visa bill.
He was a successful mayor, no question. Chicago remains a world class destination due mainly to Daley's relentless leadership. Pro business, pro arts, pro development, particularly the lakefront and downtown. He contributed mightily to Chicago's reputation as a city with a great "front yard."
But the "back yard" has it's share of old tires and sinks.
Daley rules with the subtlety of a burlesque show, treating aldermen like the "Whack a Groundhog" arcade game. Witness the midnight raid of Miegs Field or the selling of city assets. Are naming rights next? How about the "Jersey Shore" Drive or "Oprah" Field?
And corruption is rampant, with over 40 members of Daley's administration indicted in recent years. Cronies constantly cut insider deals, cashing more chits than an Ivy League admissions officer. We're left to wonder the indirect cost of each foot of wrought iron fencing to cops, firefighters and teachers.
Chicago's next mayor is going to have a lovely, showroom quality car. Just don't peek under the hood.
Neil Giuntoli's brilliant play "Hizzonor" opens with Giuntoli, as Daley's father, kneeling in his Bridgeport church. The Priest says "peace be with you" and the congregation responds "and also wit choo." Pure Chicago. Pure Daley.
The city that works, like sausage.
Da Bears
A quick note as we begin Lovie's farewell tour. Jay Cutler is a nice quarterback, but I have the sinking feeling he will running from defenses like his hair is on fire. The line is brutal, and my fear is that they are Puppy Chow to guys like Lions rookie Ndamukong Suh (a beast who tosses QB's like the morning paper) and the Vikings Jared Allen.
I hope I'm wrong. Just sayin'.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Buy Me Some Peanuts and ...Bush Leaguers
A report last week from Deadspin showed that teams like the Royals, Marlins and Pirates make money despite fielding lousy teams which can't draw flies. Because they keep costs down? Yes, but also because of revenue sharing.
Since the mid-1990's, baseball has had a system where "big market" (think New York, LA, Chicago) teams share revenue with "small market" (think Kansas City, Tampa, Cleveland) teams. The idea was to level the playing field, redistribute wealth, so other teams could compete.
This year, for example, the New York Yankees (baseball's Microsoft) have a payroll of $206 million, while the Pittsburgh Pirates have a payroll of $35 million. In fact, the Yanks Alex Rodriguez ($34 million) makes as much as the entire Pirates roster. I picture *A-Rod walking up to the Pirates batting cage and saying "I can buy you guys." Would he want them?
Revenue sharing hasn't worked. Come October, big spenders dominate while little spenders make tee times. "Moneyball" theories aside, money rules.
There are exceptions. The Florida Marlins have won two championships and the Tampa Bay Rays won a pennant a couple of years ago. Cleveland came within a game of the World Series a few years ago.
Rooting for a small market team means rooting for exceptions. Baseball does not have a salary cap like other sports or shared TV revenue like the NFL. Baseball has the strongest players union, by far, of any professional sport and owners who often are their own worst enemies.
(As an aside, check out "Lords Of The Realm" by John Helyar for more on the "real" history of baseball.)
And there is revenue sharing (this year's pool is about $450 million), but now comes word that a number of owners pocket the dough for themselves. While the idea was that teams would spend away on new players, there aren't strict guidelines on what to do with the money.
Reminds me of the episode of "Everybody Loves Raymond" where Robert goes to his brother for money due to some hard times and promptly spends it on a weekend in Vegas.
When baseball's labor agreement is up next year and owners cry about player salaries, they won't have much leverage will they?
Since the mid-1990's, baseball has had a system where "big market" (think New York, LA, Chicago) teams share revenue with "small market" (think Kansas City, Tampa, Cleveland) teams. The idea was to level the playing field, redistribute wealth, so other teams could compete.
This year, for example, the New York Yankees (baseball's Microsoft) have a payroll of $206 million, while the Pittsburgh Pirates have a payroll of $35 million. In fact, the Yanks Alex Rodriguez ($34 million) makes as much as the entire Pirates roster. I picture *A-Rod walking up to the Pirates batting cage and saying "I can buy you guys." Would he want them?
Revenue sharing hasn't worked. Come October, big spenders dominate while little spenders make tee times. "Moneyball" theories aside, money rules.
There are exceptions. The Florida Marlins have won two championships and the Tampa Bay Rays won a pennant a couple of years ago. Cleveland came within a game of the World Series a few years ago.
Rooting for a small market team means rooting for exceptions. Baseball does not have a salary cap like other sports or shared TV revenue like the NFL. Baseball has the strongest players union, by far, of any professional sport and owners who often are their own worst enemies.
(As an aside, check out "Lords Of The Realm" by John Helyar for more on the "real" history of baseball.)
And there is revenue sharing (this year's pool is about $450 million), but now comes word that a number of owners pocket the dough for themselves. While the idea was that teams would spend away on new players, there aren't strict guidelines on what to do with the money.
Reminds me of the episode of "Everybody Loves Raymond" where Robert goes to his brother for money due to some hard times and promptly spends it on a weekend in Vegas.
When baseball's labor agreement is up next year and owners cry about player salaries, they won't have much leverage will they?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
