Jack’s Blog

The New York Yankees won this year’s World Series and did it with help from everybody in their organization (with the possible exception of George Costanza).  Included in that group are Alex Rodriguez and Joe Girardi, probably the two most popular pinatas in the Big Apple, if not the entire sports nation.

A-Rod finally buried his past postseason woes and Girardi, possibly the most criticized manager ever - who won it all, can now go to bed knowing, whether or not he was leading the highest paid, most talented baseball team in history, that no one else could have done any better than he did. 

Critics, from the broadcasters and color commentators to the journalists (both electronic and print) to the average schmuck on the street (if there’s any way for a schmuck to be average) have to now find another player and manager (or coach, depending on the sport) to berate for doing well (even great) but not winning the Big One.

The first guy I ever heard wear this crown (since my background is in college hoops) was Dean Smith who made numerous trips to the Final Four before finally winning one.  Wilt wore the player’s version for a while until he finally got one (even though there’s never been an athlete who’s caused so many rules changes in his game).  Count John Elway and Brett Favre in that group too.  Throw in Kevin Garnett too - a guy who might just win another one this year.

The title of “Best Coach to Never Have Won The Big One” (until each of them did) is a pretty exclusive group - considering that each of the following is a member.  It’s not bad company to keep: Tony LaRussa (started managing in 1979, hailed as a genius, yet didn’t win a World Championship until ten years later, Jim Leyland (started in 1986, won a title in 1997), Bill Cowher (went from 1992 until 2005 before he won a Super Bowl and retired a year later - it probably took a year for it to sink in that he’d actually won one).  Let’s also not forget Joe Torre, who, believe it or not, was in jeopardy of having the crown named after him for a while. 

On the college basketball level: Mike Krzyzewski, Rick Pitino, Gary Williams, Jim Boeheim, Roy Williams and Bill Self are all members, one succeeding the other once his predecessor took home a National Championship.

The moral of this story comes from a recorded postgame tirade (unbeknownst to him) by Tommy Lasorda after losing a game and having his strategy questioned by sportswriters:

“This (bleepin’) job’s not that (bleepin’) easy!” Â

This summer seems to have given us more walk-off winning plays that any other I can remember.  The “walk-off” is an amazing phenomenon.  The first prerequisite is that a team must be involved.  This is true, mainly because the team has to mob somebody - usually whoever produced of the walk-off moment, i.e. the hero.  Or else, what makes it so dramatic?  A mob scene at home plate or midcourt or midfield beats a caddy hugging the guy whose bag he’s been carrying or seeing a guy taking a victory lap waving the flag of his native country.

Although the celebration of this event is directed at one guy, it’s still a team game, meaning this jubilation could never have taken place if not for the efforts of so many other team members.  For the moment, we’re talking about baseball, so let’s examine that sport for just a minute.

Yesterday, Alex Rodriguez knocked out a home run in the bottom of the 15th inning of a previously scoreless game.  The time was past midnight.  Think of all the plays that had to be made defensively, by the members of both teams, to have the game be zip-zip for that amount of time.  I mean, even a couple of timely errors by the visitors in the 3rd or 4th inning and the Yanks wouldn’t have needed A-Rod’s heroics.

No matter how many times you’ve made the play to end a game, you never forget the moment - or the feeling you had.  Personally, I can recall a few of my own: a field goal with no time left in a weekend get together (our school vs. your school) of 7th graders.  I can still feel my fellow 13-year-olds putting me up on their shoulders, even though there wasn’t one spectator at the barnburner.  Other kicks (a PAT in a 42-41 Homecoming Game victory in college) and a 33-yard field goal (with a strong wind at my back) and only seconds to go in the last game of that same season (to beat perennial power, Wagner College); a couple free throws with 3 seconds to go (and our club down one) in a nail-biting intramural game (also in college) and a game-winning single to end a high school summer rec league baseball contest that kept us from having to go into extra innings. 

The point of this trivia (or minutia) is, no matter how insignificant the actual moment is, the is no greater feeling of satisfaction you could possibly have.  And don’t give me the birth of your children or your wedding day (days for some).  That’s an apples vs. oranges comparison.  What game-winning experiences give you that none other can is that the outcome was riding on you . . . and you came through!  That feeling of accomplishment is something you can bring up a half a century later - and I can’t begin to tell you how many people I’ve heard bring up past history.  Think about it and there’s no doubt in my mind you have had the same experiences I have.

No matter how much later in life, it’s still such a great rush - and something you not only can’t forget but love reliving - again and again.  Although we’re constantly reminded to live for today and plan & look forward to tomorrow, hitting the rewind button serves as possibly the only addiction that can really do no harm.  It might just be because of all the time we spent daydreaming as kids of doing just that - making the game-winning play.  And no matter the competition, we did it - and nobody can ever take that away.

As I heard on numerous occasions during motivational speeches:

“Some people dream of worthy accomplishments while others stay awake and do them.”

For those who think life would be perfect if only they had all the money they needed, they ought to ask themselves if they’d switch places - and bank accounts - with Alex Rodriguez.  The way this works is you don’t just get the money, you have to subject yourself to the questioning of a couple hundred media members who are waiting for you to slip up (like circling vultures) - on something you did eight years ago.  Do you think, even for a nanosecond, you could recall everything you did, including the illegal stuff (which you’d more likely remember because it probably has been weighing heavily on your conscience), eight years ago?  Wouldn’t you be a little afraid you’d misrepresent a little item since it was so long ago?  Especially knowing the media and all the skeptical fans will pounce on it, exclaiming, “Aha, now we’ve got you!  You said it was injected but what the clubhouse boy said was he saw you something in pill form.” 

You may not know who the clubhouse boy is, or was, and, honestly can’t even recall there being a clubhouse boy in those days.  Perhaps what he saw you take was a couple of Exedrin.  Maybe there wasn’t even a clubhouse boy; it’s just some poor schlub exercising his Andy Warhol 15-minute rights (or was it Woody Allen - see, I told you some things are hard to remember).  In this case, there are A-Rod supporters who will believe “the greatest all-around third baseman/shortstop” no matter what anyone says.  In the other corner, there’s the anti-A-Rod Society, believers in the reason he plays is for stats but, yet, can never come through with the clutch hit or home run like other truly great ones do(oh, Derek Jeter comes to mind).

The people who Alex Rodriguez needs to speak directly to are those who are neutral, on the fence, people who want to see real proof that something wrong actually occurred and want to decide for themselves whether A-Rod cheated and, if he did, what percentage of his career did the cheating affect?

In his first mass media appearance, he certainly seemed remorseful and came across honestly (unless you’re in the “haters” club, in which case, if he had produced video of every second of his life from the time in question, you’d claim the video was doctored).  One problem I had with his explanation was his mentioning of “his cousin.”  Not once did he give a name.  This struck me in the identical manner O.J. Simpson, in the book, If I Did It, introduced a character named “Charlie.”  For every other person in the book, O.J. gives first and last name (over and over) - except for “Charlie,” striking readers (or listeners, as I happened to be) that this no-last-name character was a convenient, and imaginary, friend.

The old philosophy used to be “Deny, Deny, Deny” but with all the checks and balances and the information superhighway, this defense has, for all intents and purposes, been rendered utterly ineffective.  It seems as though the best way to go about a negative, unfortunate or even illegal story on you is to follow the wisdom of Ralph Waldo Emerson:

“Whatever games are played with us, we must play no games with ourselves, but deal in our privacy with the last honesty and truth.” 

Alex Rodriguez, in a 60 Minutes interview a couple years ago, said he never took steroids. Today, he’s admitting he did, in fact, take illegal substances from 2001-03 and that he was young, stupid and naive.  When asked what he took, he said the culture back then was different regarding supplements and he doesn’t know what he took.  Not only that, but he claims he didn’t lie in that interview.  It seems as though the proper follow up question should be, “Huh?”

First of all, he shouldn’t even have to be explaining any of this because he, along with all the other Major Leaguers, were told the tests were simply part of an experiment, that there would be no penalty should a player test positive and that all baseball was looking for was a number - the number of players who were using and what drugs they were using.  The players were told that after the results were recorded, that 1) the samples would be destroyed and 2) the test results would be purely confidential.

Let’s take a look at those conditions in order.  If the samples were supposed to be destroyed, then there must have been someone in charge of destroying them.  Who didn’t follow orders and why didn’t he/she/they follow them?  Were the instructions ignored on purpose?  Did someone feel there could be a financial gain involved?  That thought alone is troublesome; that self-interest, be it for money or fame, would be at the root of all this.  In other words, that whomever was selected (and there had to be some thought behind who would be given that particular job) would violate a trust and potentially ruin so many lives and cast such an ominous shadow on the game, makes us all stop and wonder whom it is we can trust?

Second, after what’s occurred (and don’t think for a minute that A-Rod’s the only name that will surface), do you think the players will ever trust MLB again?  Should they?  If you’re one of the other 103 players who tested positive, how are you feeling right about now?  Across the crawl on ESPN, it was stated that no other name will be revealed.  Does anybody believe that story?  What’s worse, if you were in major league baseball at that time, and you were not using, you can’t wait for the names to come out, because right now, with the trust level in this nation being as low it is, you realize that everyone, except for your relatives and close friends, believes you’re dirty as well.  And don’t be so sure about your relatives and close friends, either.

Although I’m not at all a believer in the line, Ignorance is bliss, there are some things I’d rather not know.  What goes on behind someone’s closed door is one of them, i.e. personal privacy.  Today’s reporter, especially the investigative reporter that so many are wanting to be and are so proud to have that term applied to them, doesn’t feel this way at all.  Nothing can get in the way of a good story, i.e. one that will make them money, bring them fame or advance their career (a combo of the three, or, PTL, all three would be nothing short of orgasmic).  It all started with Woodward and Bernstein, who were proven to be right, but their accomplishments regarding Watergate have spurned a new generation who are more interested in exposing someone and making a name for themselves than being completely accurate.  Possibly it’s because without a sensational story, no one would read what they write due to lack of journalistic skill or laziness when it comes to research.  And those beliefs were mentioned to me by a newspaper man who was an award-winning journalist, albeit an old-timer.  Of course, there are still many highly talented journalists, but in terms of that percentage of all writers, the number seems to have dropped off significantly - as “scooping” has displaced “accuracy” in the media world.

I’m old enough to remember when reporters traveled with teams and none of the behavior reported today was ever seen in print or heard across the airwaves - and I’m not talking about illegal activity.  What I’m referring to is “dirt” that reporters dredge up on people.  Back then, it was because the reporters and players would go out together and hoist a few (drinks and skirts).  I recall one time when a coach I was working for received some negative publicity for something he did that had nothing to do with coaching the team or even representing the university, yet it not only written about, it was mentioned every day for at least two weeks.  At that same time, there was a  writer I knew who was guilty of the same indiscretion. 

When I told the writer of the story I thought it was wrong, that his private life should be private, he told me, “People want to know this stuff.  Everyone knows who he is.  His picture’s in the paper two or three times a week.”  When I mentioned the dirty laundry  the colleague of his had that was common knowledge to those of us in the business (as well as the guy to whom I was talking), and asked why the paper didn’t feel the need to print that, he told me it was because no one cared about that guy.  I countered by saying that, in today’s world (with as well as the tabloids were doing), that I’d bet a majority of the people in town would love to know this tidbit.  He claimed that wasn’t true, that nobody would even recognize his fellow reporter, to which I said that might have been true before newspapers started putting pictures or caricatures of the writers next to their columns and stories.  He hesitated, then maintained that people still wouldn’t be interested.  His hesitation was enough for me.  You see, the Cubs will sweep a World Series before a reader will ever win an argument with a writer about something that’s written (especially by him or her).

To wrap up the latest steroid issue in baseball, the conclusion has to be that the players will never trust anyone when it comes to drug testing (and several other matters as well), the public (and media) will never believe a player who’s accused of drug use (independent of whether the player denies it - or even if it’s reported he did not test positive - “ah, he must have been doin’ somethin’ “) and every player who has a big statistical year will be looked at with a jaundiced eye.

It’s why people are less and less trusting of others, because as my late, brilliant mentor, John Savage, told me (and many others as well):

“Trust, once violated, can never be regained.”        �

Although I was a diehard (Brooklyn) Dodgers fan in my (very) early years, I always admired Joe Torre for not only his skill, but for the way he carried himself on the baseball diamond.  When he was fired a couple of times (Mets & Braves), I always thought he was done wrong and, after just finishing Ted Turner’s new book, he even admits firing Joe was a mistake.  Then came the heart warming story of his brother, Frank, and his transplant surgery (coming just in time to save his life) and it seemed like everybody was in Joe’s corner.

The final straw for me, the one that made me an unabashed Joe Torre fan, was when he became manager of the hated Yankees and I started pulling (however slightly) for the Bronx Bombers.  By that time, I’d pretty much become a non-fan (actually that change occurred around 1964, my junior year in high school, when I was playing on organized teams and had only enough “fan” in me to root for the teams I played for - or later, teams our sons play[ed] for).  So, seeing a Yankees score on the “crawl,” I would hope they’d win - because this classy guy was the manager and he had to put up with the New York media (the most sarcastic writers anywhere) and, even worse, had as his boss, George Steinbrenner, a man who, no matter what he paid you, it wasn’t enough.  Joe’s Yankee teams won big (6 World Series appearances/championships in 12 years), but anyone could tell that a job working for Steinbrenner was like tip-toeing through a field with hidden mines, i.e. one wrong step and your (business) life was over.  I read with enthusiasm his book, Ground Rules for Winners, highlighted the parts I especially liked and it was one of the selections of what’s referred to as “Fertig Notes” see the “Jack’s Notes” tab on this website’s home page.  A mailout to a limited number of friends and guys I’ve known from the (mainly college) coaching community.

I was thrilled, admittedly not to the point of immersing myself into the Dodger lore the way I did when I was nine or ten years old, when Joe was hired by the Los Angeles Dodgers.  It seemed to be his destiny.  No wonder I liked him so much all those years ago.  Somehow, I must have had that gut feel that he was made to wear Dodger Blue.

Then, of all things, I discovered, about the same time as the rest of America did, i.e. a few dys ago, that Joe Torre had written a book about his Yankee years and that it was one of those “tell-all” kinds - the type a person writes to make money or get things off his chest - or both.  I figured that the former is what it had to be because I searched for another reason - any other reason - he ‘d have penned such a manuscript.  It couldn’t have been the money.  He’d been making millions for many years and was now heavy into the endorsement deals.  He’s no lunkhead athlete who spent his money as fast as he got it, assuming there would be no end to this kind of Monoply cash, nor was he the type who would put all his dough with someone like Bernie Madoff.  Tough Italian kids from Brooklyn just don’t do stupid stuff like that.  So I ruled out that he did it for the money - unless his co-author, Tom Verducci needed the income and sweet talked Joe into the project.  When someone asked if the proceeds were going toward his charity, Safe at Home, which deals with the subject of domestic violence, Joe stammered and never did say how much of it would be earmarked for his charity.

Why else?  I’ve already mentioned his leadership book, Ground Rules, so it couldn’t have been to see his name on a book cover.  It sure appeared like a type of catharsis.  Write it all down, all the crazy goings-on in the clubhouse, the expectations being so high to begin with, and then, bringing in Alex Rodriguez, one of the greatest baseball players of all-time, an experiment which did not produce the results everyone in New York expected (although in NY, results never match expectations: “Oh yeah, you guys won, but you didn’t cover!) and it looked more and more like he had to get rid of some feeling that was eating away at him.

As I get older, I find the need to set alarms to remember appointments or something important and when the alarm on my watch goes off, I usually have to look at it to see why I had it set.  (Yes, it’s as sad as it sounds).  This happened last night when it went off and I looked at it to see what the memo said.  “Larry King” was the message and it was then I remembered Joe would be interviewed shortly by the King himself.  The King of asking a difficult question but making it sound like he lobbed another softball up there, and that’s what the guest feels like, until he tries to formulate an answer.  First off, was the money question and Joe said, not that convincingly, that it was not the case, that he’d been making $7 million this past year (and when you admit you made that kind of number on national TV, you can bet that was the low end - those IRS people have been known to watch television). 

True, he’d been hurt by their response to his request for a two-year contract (probably for the same $7 mil he’d made in the past) so he could manage without the look of a lame duck (something, for all of you who go into coaching, which needs to be avoided pretty much, at all costs).  He knew that situation would only lead to constant probing and the chart of “how many days are left for Joey T?”  They countered with $5 mil, but with incentives to get it up to $7 large.  One reason for this was that the brass thought, after a particularly uncharacteristically bad season, maybe what Joe needed was a few incentives - you know, to get him to work harder.  People who’ve never been coaches (many owners and general managers fall into this category) have no idea that coaches are among the most competitive, self-motivated people on the planet.  Joe took their offer as an insult (as many coaches would have).  When a guy as old as Joe is insulted (especially with the Italian blood boiling inside of him), negotiations usually break off and the employer-employee is terminated.

Joe tried to make light of the situation in the book where he says members of the ball club would refer to A-Rod as A-Fraud, relating a story where, one day after a poor performance, one of the coaches was going to hit ground balls to Rodriguez and the coach said, “What’s it going to be today, A-Rod or A-Fraud?”  Other remarks, some of them negative, were pooh-pooh’d by Joe, saying that nothing that was in the book wasn’t “out there” already.

Joe claimed he didn’t burn any bridges but he knows all too well the grudge New Yorkers carry toward people whom they feel have disrespected them.  Another extremely intriguing question was asked of Joe.  “Do you think this book will affect your current players’ attitudes and feelings toward you?”  Amazingly - then again, not so amazingly, -Joe said, “No.”

C’mon, Joe, this just doesn’t pass the smell test.  Yet, for all of it, I still can’t bring myself to dislike Joe Torre.  To me, in an era of the Good Guys vs. the Bad Guys, Joe’s still one of the Good group.  As clever a guy as he is, however, he might want to heed the humorist Elbert Hubbard’s advice:

“An ounce of loyalty is worth a pound of cleverness.” 

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