Jack’s Blog

Somewhere in history, someone, no doubt hailed as a genius at the time, invented commissions.  These were groups formed to tackle problems that no one individual could, or should (for reasons of favoritism, kickbacks or other human temptations) possibly take on alone.

What probably happened early on is, when a group got together, there must always have been be an “alpha dog” who became commissioner - either self-appointed or by group vote (as in “all in - timidated, say ‘aye’ - all opposed, . . . well, there’s never anyone opposed because they’re all ‘intimidated‘ - so the ‘timidated’s won - and we had ourselves a new commissioner).

Progress brought the group appointing, or on occasion, voting for a commissioner and this worked out better - for a while.  The leader was compensated, eventually quite handsomely - see Stern, Selig, Goodell - to make the big decisions and take the big hits (e.g. dirty referees and brawls between players and fans, steroids and All-Star Game ties, steroids and old timers getting shafted by young guys who still don’t understand why the game’s so popular) and then, to ultimately make difficult pronouncements on how to “fix” the problems.

Don’t think these guys are anarchists.  They have “commissions” behind them, advising them on which, after discussion and research, is the right thing to say or the best way to spin the wrong thing.

Professional women golfers are thinking of, if they haven’t already, dumped their commissioner, Carolyn Bivens.  Seems like there have been too many “wrong” decisions and somebody’s head needs to roll.  The less popular the sport, the less the public knows what’s really going on, but at the core of it all, has to be the commission designed to govern or promote the sport - and probably not the figurehead.

When cigarettes were finally decided to be a product that could “do harm” to a person, a commission said there needed to be a warning on the box - “Caution: Cigarettes may be hazardous to your health.”  It used to be that a man cheating on his wife used to be scared to death he’d get venereal disease.  After what’s happened recently, maybe there ought to be a commission come up with similar warning for adultery.  Just don’t know where they’d put it.

Undoubtedly, the commission would figure it out.  Maybe my fixation on the word commission comes from my experiences reading of what it is they do.  More likely, it comes from the greatest sportswriter of all-time (and there doesn’t seem to be a challenger in sight), Jim Murray, who said:

“A camel is a horse put together by a commission.”

Back from the (final) weekend high school basketball tournament of the summer.  It was in Walnut Creek, CA and there can’t be too many better places to be (on the mainland anyway) for better weather this time of the year.  Near the end of this week, I’ll be off to Michael Jordan Flight School and when I get back from Santa Barbara - another beautiful weather destination (c’mon, you didn’t think MJ would hold a camp where you’d have to suffer through heat and humidity), there will be some pretty funny blogs about the goings on there (especially if it’s like any of the past MJ sessions - see the 8/15 entry and the second one on 8/14 from last summer).  As for today’s entry:

September 7, 1979 marked the birth of ESPN, the brainchild of Bill Rasmussen.  Shortly after being fired by the New England Whalers on Memorial Day Weekend in 1978, Rasmussen set his sights on what to do next.  He felt the nation’s sports fans were being shortchanged by having the capability of only viewing sports on television on the Big Three networks (ABC, NBC, and CBS for you youngers readers who think KG, Ray Allen and Paul Pierce when you hear the term, “Big 3″).

Sports on TV all the time seemed like a sure fire winner, as well as a logical idea for a country of 1) sports-obsessed fans and 2) a group, growing daily in numbers, of couch potatoes.  Needless to say, it worked out quite nicely for Bill - and the rest of us.

One problem: how can a network fill 24 hours each and every day with sports?  The first live televised sporting event on ESPN was a Kentucky Bourbons vs. Milwaukee Schlitz Slo-Pitch Softball World Series game.  I can’t tell you who won (and not because it occurred before Tivo).  His next brilliant move (after thinking up the concept of ESPN, not televising the softball game) was buying up every available second of NCAA March Madness, owned by NBC, a station that, in no way, quenched the college hoops fans’ unquenchable thirst for the greatest televised spectacle in the country.  (I say that with no hint of prejudice, although I did spend the greatest thirty years of my life - thusfar - as an NCAA intercollegiate men’s basketball coach).

No one can begin to argue with the success of Bill Rasmussen or ESPN but some of the ideas that are televised are either a test of the limits of super-fandom or are a joke in the back offices in Bristol, i.e. “Hey, let’s try to think up something completely idiotic and see how many people will respond” (the ability for someone to “voice” their opinion by voting on their computer only adds to the jocularity at ESPN).  

And so was born the “Question of the Day.”  Example: Which do you think is most likely: a) MJ really wears Hanes, b) Tiger really drives a Buick, c) Shaq really uses Icy Hot or d) Peter Griffin really eats at Subway?  Vote online and we’ll have the answer for you by the end of SportsCenter (because there’s no other reason to watch the rest of the show since if something significant happened, you already know the outcome).

Each year, the staff comes up with whackier promotions/contests.  The answer to the trivia question, “What are the only two days of the year that none of the top four professional leagues (NFL, NBA, NHL and MLB) play a game?” is, I believe, the day before and the day after baseball’s All-Star Game.  MLB is off during the days surrounding the All-Star Game, the NFL has yet to start and the NBA and NHL have recently completed their Finals (give them time, though - either of the last two will soon have their Finals stretch to where it’s competing against “Home Run Derby”).  Something needs to be televised and, although there will undoubtedly be some lawsuit, accusation of wrongdoing, etc. during that time, ESPN needs something that’s on the calendar, something concrete (just in case everybody decides to behave).

This year’s burning hot question is “Where is Titletown, USA?”  There were nearly 150 cities nominated, including New Lothrop, MI (somehow, Detroit and Ann Arbor made the group of finalists, depressing many of the New Lothropers), Woodstock, GA (I went to college in the late ’60s and if a Woodstock were going to be considered Titletown, it wouldn’t be the one in Georgia), Bemus Point, NY (once again, the citizens of BP take a back seat to those millions in NYC), Saint Paris, OH (if Cleveland, Cincinnati, Dayton and Toledo couldn’t make the cut, did the people of St. Paris really think they could sneak in?), Montezuma, KS (revenge factor?) and Watertown, SD (sorry, South Dakota, but if you want to be taken seriously as Titletown, the home of the Terry Redlin Art Center shouldn’t get the nod over Mt. Rushmore). 

The finalists range from Williamsport, PA (the home of the Little League World Series), to Massillon, OH (for high school football) to college campus towns like Ann Arbor, MI and Columbus, OH (can’t have one without the other), Gainesville, FL and Knoxville, TN (representing the SEC - and don’t think Lexington, KY; Baton Rouge, LA and Tuscaloosa, AL aren’t a hootin’ and a hollerin’); Chapel Hill, NC (ACC rep), Lawrence, KS (reppin’ the Midwest), Palo Alto, CA (to prove there’s no East Coast bias); New York, Detroit, Boston, LA, SF, Chicago and Pittsburgh (the power cities), and not to be outdone by the “big boys and girls,” Valdosta, GA and Parkersburg, WV).  Throw in Green Bay, WI because they need some love, what with all that Brett Favre thing going on and Louisville, KY for U of L and the ponies (further upsetting Lexington) and you have your twenty finalists.

How can any sane person even begin to argue which city on that list should be called Titletown, USA?  That’s not the point.  It gets people watching, even though that was probably the farthest thing from Bill Rasmussen’s mind when he conceived ESPN.  The lesson he learned was to take heed of Alexander Graham Bell’s advice:

“Sometimes we stare so long at a door that is closing that we see too late the one that is open.”

         ¼/p>

Several years ago, the Major League Baseball All-Star Game ended in a tie, so declared by the commissioner everyone loves to pick on, Bud Selig.  This year, the game went 15 innings and nearly five hours.  It was called a classic.

Yet, had Michael Young not come through with a sacrifice fly in the 15th, the game would have continued with position players pitching, making for neat water cooler talk, but certainly not what an all-star game should be.  So, once again, Selig would have been forced to make a decision - play on or call the game a tie.

Since the game ended, I’ve heard the “talking heads” expound both sides.  While one commentator said, although it was an epic game, how much greater it would have been had it gone on (”Imagine what dads would have been able to tell their grandkids!”), another pointed out how upset Phillies’ fans ought to be, seeing their ace reliever, Brad Lidge, get up on many different occasions and throw upwards of 100 pitches, something he’d never do for the team that’s paying him to save games and get them into the post season.  Great for debate, not so for the guy at the top, Commissioner Selig, who just seems to have that look that makes people want to belittle him.  Although I don’t know Bud Selig, nor have I ever met him, I find it hard to believe he became as successful as he is by being the fool many want us to believe he is.  As has been well-documented, he is, and always has been, a die-hard fan of the game, so it must truly hurt to hear others who don’t (or barely) know him make such uninformed remarks. 

Had this year’s game gone on and he decided, once more, to call it a tie (which, by the way, I happened to think was the correct decision the first time he did it), he would have gotten roasted by the fans.  If he let them play it out (especially if an injury was to occur), he would be excoriated by (many of the same) people.

Hence, the job description for MLB Commissioner must be that of the anti-bureaucrat, who Brooks Atkinson once described as:

“The perfect bureaucrat everywhere is the man who manages to make no decisions and escape all responsibility.”