Jack’s Blog

While the final preseason game is often referred to as a dress rehearsal (usually by the TV guys who need to keep the views tuned in), it’s a life and death stuggle for many of the “marginal” players vying for roster spots.  While some players are working to crack the starting lineup, others are desperate to prove they belong.  The world of football has recently shown some signs it realizes the country’s economy isn’t as vibrant as it’s been, with the folding of the Arena Football League.  While I never went to a game, I thought the AFL had a loyal following.

Some of these guys who felt there would always be football in their lives are having a rude and realistic awakening.  Just as the NFL has always been an “employer’s market,” people are discovering the “real world” is operating under the exactly the same scenario.  Getting cut means trying to land a job in the workforce, and because jobs there have become increasingly more difficult, some of these players are now beginning to understand why their coaches stressed getting a degree.  According to their not-so-talented friends, the compensation package that workers in today’s society get doesn’t compare very favorably to what the NFL offers - in salary, benefits and - especially - perks.

So, as these clubs wrap up their preseason schedule, the borderline guys anxiously wait for their chance to show what they can do.  Sometimes, it comes down to a special teams play, and if a guy’s on the kickoff team, he doesn’t get but one chance - unless his squad scores.  Others pace and hope for the call, only to see an opportunity open up when one of their teammates gets hurt.  Compassion, at least momentarily, flies out the window and the “Wally Pipp Rule” quickly enters into play. 

It turned out Lou Gehrig was ready when he was called to substitute for Pipp - and didn’t come out of the lineup for fourteen years.  Even then, it was only after he couldn’t physically perform to his standards and requested his manager take him out “for the good of the team.”  He was diagnosed with the fatal disease, ALS, shortly thereafter.  When it was apparent his career was over, he gave the famous “I’m the luckiest man on the face of the earth” speech.

Gehrig’s attitude, capped off by that famous quote, is the reason (most of) these complete the roster players are working as though their lives depended on making the team.  And that reason is what I told my two sons (ages 20 and 15) long ago.  It is also why I have summed it up in the form of a quote and printed it on a sheet of paper that I taped over the TV screen in my classroom (I wanted to put it where I knew the kids would be looking):

“The key to a successful job is to find something you love to do, . . . and get somebody to pay you to do it.” �

Preseason predictions are fun because, if nothing else, they signal that the actual season is right around the corner.  Ranking teams (and even players) is one of America’s favorite past times (well, maybe not for Steve Spurrier) because it gives bragging rights for the young (even though they might be somewhat immature) and gives additional debate topics for adults (who act even more immature).

“My school/team is ranked higher than yours” and “No way should your school/team be ranked higher than mine” are the two most overused phrases in sports’ arguments - at least until real games are played.  Then the arguing will still continue, but at least an occasional statistic will be thrown into the conversation, giving at least one person some credibility.

The ranking of individuals is neat too - from a fan’s perspective, especially if the supporter knows the player - even if the standout is merely an acquaintance of the person.  In that case, he may very likely become “one of my closest friends,” assuming the opponent in the discussion has no way of finding out how close (or not) his adversary is to Mr. Stud.

The one category that I’ve never found amusing, pertinent, or in any way necessary, (as readers of this space might have guessed) is that of “Coach on the Hot Seat.”  Sure, it’s rubs me the wrong way because I spent so much of my adult life in the world of coaching, but, disregarding that, what purpose does it serve? 

Is the author of the article or “list” telling readers something of true interest - or intrigue?Normally the person sitting in that spot either lost the previous season, or has strung a few of them together.  So, what’s the point of the category?  It isn’t like a reader will come across the name and say, “Hey, that guy has lost the past few years.  How come he’s still around?”  I doubt anyone ever made the list who was coming off of a winning campaign.

While compassion is not, nor has ever been, a required trait of any member of the sports media, what has always bewildered me is the lack of humanity when including a “coach on the hot seat” category.  I completely understand and agree with the other (positive categories) - although eliminating “coach on the rise” wouldn’t bother me in the slightest, probably because I look at team sports as being about the team.  It is, after all, what the coaches are constantly preaching. (I’ve always felt the post-season award should be called “Coaching Staff of the Year”).

My reasons for wishing “COTHS”  be stricken from print is that, first of all, it hurts recruiting (which might be a major reason the guy’s on it in the first place).  On the college level, players, coaches and recruits will question the coach (or his assistants) about the job (in)security - and there’s really no way of answering it.  Only the ultimate boss, e.g. the AD, president or chancellor has the final say to that question.  It’s similar to asking, “Do you still beat your wife?”  Whatever you say hurts your position.  Only your wife can answer that satisfactorily.  In addition, with all the negative recruiting that goes on at the intercollegiate level, rival recruiters feel it’s not wrong to point out the “hot seat” remark - since it is in black and white, i.e. it’s not “gossip.”  Although, until it’s printed by that school’s decision-maker, gossip is exactly what it is.

If it’s on the professional level, it often destoys the coach-player relationship, especially if the coach has to deal with an ultra-ego (selfish and/or low intellect) player or, worse, his agent.  Seeing your name on the “hot seat” list adds fuel to any disgruntled player (especially if his minutes are down).  “Hey, man, this cat ain’t goin’ to be around much longer.  What do I need to show him respect for?  He ain’t been showin’ it to me.”

But, the worst reason for it is that it’s often devastating to the coach’s family.  Coaches won’t hear it themselves because people know who they are and most of the public have the common decency to keep their mouths shut when the coach is within “hearing range.”  This, however, doesn’t apply to the coach’s wife, often unrecognizable, and thus, all too susceptible to overhearing gossip such as, “Yeah, I heard Ol’ Coach is gone if he doesn’t win this year/this week/tonight.”  Something like that tends to put a damper on the remainder of Mrs. Coach’s day.

Worst of all, is the impact that kind of rumor has on the coach’s kids.  Sure, he took on the job - and at the big-time college level and in the pros, a large check accompanies it.  But when kids (and the younger the kids, the worse it is) hear their classmates repeat what their daddy said to his neighbor the night before, “fight or flight” usually is the result for the offended youngster.

Plus, say it does turn out to be true and the guy gets pink-slipped.  As a journalist, are you going to pat yourself on the back (”Hey, remember, I called that one even before the year started”)?  Does being right about a person’s demise give you a warm feeling all over?

What if you’re wrong and it turns out not to be true?  And not because the team won, but because of other factors, unknown to you.  Like: the school gave a commitment to the coach and feels it should honor that commitment (eschewing the “instant gratification” of most administrators - usually brought on by pressure from money people)?  Or maybe the administration feels the coach is handicapped by, say, poor facilities (that he was promised when he signed on, but because of budget cuts, never received) or injuries to key players, i.e. the decision-maker(s) is (are) really close to the program and he’s showing him/her/them exactly what he/she/they hoped for when the coach was hired?  Or maybe the administration just happens to believes they hired the right person and decides to stick with that right person - similar to the way former director of athletics Tom Butters did when the guy he hired had a rocky start in his first three years. 

Today, Tom Butters is held is the highest esteem - by other administrators, coaches and fans - for sticking with Mike Kryzyzewski, even though Coach K was nine games under  .500 and had an ACC record of 13-29 after his first three years in Durham.

Why did Butters keep Coach K when, had he fired him, no one would have questioned him?  Probably for the same reason Butters, retired since 1998, said he knew Mike would make a statement of support to the lacrosse players who were wrongly accused of rape.

“There are times you have to put your ass on the line.”

      �

The first week of the 2009-10 school year is history.  I finally realized (after only seven years - and a week - at Buchanan) what makes teaching such an interesting occupation.  Although it seems like I, and the rest of my colleagues in the field, go through similar rituals year after year (after year, after year, after . . . ), the truth is that there are usually different “actors” involved and each plays the role so sincerely, like watching Jersey Boys on Broadway and then seeing it in San Francisco.  Maybe that’s a bit of a stretch, but at least you get the gist of the story - while we see and hear the same mistakes and excuses, somehow this year’s cast of characters make the same old performances special.

Another revelation (not yet proven) is that it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if someone were to uncover a “How to Be a New Student” class given each summer, just prior to the beginning of the school year.  Of course, a few parameters would have to be followed, e.g. the class couldn’t start until at least mid-morning and there would have to be different levels of  it - just like the standardized tests all the students take in April (maybe only three levels: Far Below Basic, Basic  and Advanced).

Example #1 (FBB): after taking attendance, I noticed there were too many students in the class compared to the number on the roster.  However, since classes were shortened - and everybody on the roll sheet was in the class, I began the lesson.  The dilemma was exposed about 10-15 minutes into the class when one of the students stood up and headed for the door, mumbling, “Uh, I’m in the wrong class.”  Problem solved.  (Obviously, this is the Far Below Basic class - the kid who can’t read the sheet his schedule is on).

Example #2 (Basic): A student who had struggled in math in the past (meaning every year he’s ever taken a math class) asked a question and after slowly, very slowly, i.e. “walking” him through it, step by step, he looked up and got it - he really and truly understood it.  Minutes later, a student assistant from the Counseling Center walked in and handed me a piece of paper.  Invariably, in that situation, it’s always for the kid you just helped, the one who honestly wants to learn, the kid who pays attention, who, in this case, (eventually) learned what I taught him, he and I actually connected, the kind of student teachers dream of - and it’s always a schedule change - meaning now, he is spending his last day in your class.

Example #3 (Advanced): the attention-seeker, the student who, although a freshman is bound and determined to make a statement.  “Oh, fellow freshmen, just watch as I illustrate how I do what I want to do in this class.  No teacher is going to tell me what I can and cannot do.”  So, she began talking to whomever was next to her and when I made a comment, either to the class as a whole, or to her individually (I can’t recall), about how it’s necessary to pay attention and how extraneous comments disrupt others in the class, there were muffled sounds coming from the back (invariably, this type of person always sits in the back of the room).

Now that I consider myself a veteran teacher, I usually handle a case like this differently than I did as a rookie teacher.  As a rook, I was ready to engage in banter, verbal battle, to directly confront the student, so all concerned would know exactly how I felt.  As a vet, I just ignored her snide remark(s), having the feeling this was simply an example of  behavior which translated to “Look at me; I’m somebody and I matter.” 

During the first couple days of school, math teachers will normally go around the room and ask questions (either out of the book or from printed worksheets) in order to make a general assessment of each student’s mathematical ability.  When I got to this girl (let’s call her Mary), the question I asked was, “OK, Mary, was your answer for this problem?”  To which she replied (in a tone dripping with  sarcastic), “I don’t know; what was my answer?”

Once again, a situation that would be handled much differently by a younger, less experienced teacher than one who’s been been teaching for a while.  There was no conversation.  I simply reached into my drawer, took out a referral sheet and filled it out with the pertinent information: her name, year in school and period of the day.  I wrote a brief description of the incident (using words such as “insubordination” and “disruptive behavior.”  Then I sent her to the office where discipline matters are handled.  Situation resolved, continue teaching the class.

Another aspect of teaching that I happen to genuinely like (although many teachers claim to abhor it) is communicating with the parents.  I can say with near certainty that of all the parent conversations (whether in person or on the phone - while emailing and texting are means of communication, I don’t consider them as conversations) I’ve ever had at Buchanan (my only other high school teaching experience was at my alma mater and it was 1970-72), all but maybe four or five have ended very pleasantly, with the parents appreciating the amount of time we were on the phone (I’ll spend as much time on the phone with them as is necessary to resolve the issue) and/or thanking me for the consideration I’ve shown for their son or daughter.  I always tell them that while there are 3000 or so students at Buchanan, there’s only one they care about (barring other siblings at BHS).  To date, I’ve had two phone conversations with parents - each, a minimum of 45 minutes - and,both ending in an extremely positive manner.  Having been a member of the National Speakers Association, that has definitely helped me in that one area.

In all, with the level of student I teach, there are usually two types:

“Those who try hard, and those who hardly try.”

 �

Check the 8/17/09 Sports Illustrated (page 23 for those of you who are incredibly lazy) and in the “Go Figure” column, the statistic reads, “26,254,000 Americans…played basketball at some point in 2008, making hoops the most popular team sport...”  Now, c’mon, does that really surprise anybody?

When I taught the Theory of Coaching Basketball class at Fresno State (each fall from 1995-2001, I used to tell the 35-40 students the above fact, only I didn’t have numbers to back it up, merely the naked eye.  Here’s the illustration I used in the class.

If you see someone walk through a practice football field, you won’t see them walk by a 7-man sled (do they still use those?) and stop to get a few shoulder blocks on it.  More realistically, if passers-by, walking on a football/soccer/baseball/softball field, see a ball lying on the ground, they might pick it up, but, in all likelihood, they’ll eventually drop it (assuming they’re honest) and continue on to their destination.  Same, or different, people walk through a gym and a see a volleyball, or on a tennis court and see a tennis ball - similar result.  And, never, will you see a couple of people walk by wrestling mats - and immediately start to grapple!

But, walk into a gym, and if there is a basketball on the floor, guaranteed, that person will shoot it!  And, if there’s more than one person, they may even fight over it - just to see who gets the first shot.  Why?  What is the obsession with hoops?

The answer is actually quite simple.  Shooting a basketball gives the shooter what everyone today (independent of age) craves: instant gratification.  You shoot a basketball and you know, immediately, whether you did well (the ball went in) or not (the usual outcome, a miss).  

To sum up the attitude of the current society, reflect on Meryl Streep’s quote:

“Instant gratification is not soon enough.”

It’s now more years than I like to admit that a (slightly older) friend told me, after I explained that I’d walked into a room in my house, only to stop and wonder, “What did I come in here for, anyway?” that I had experienced my first “senior moment.”  Like many others who encounter a similar event, I’m told, my initial reaction was total denial.

It’s only after another episode, and another, and another, did I realize this phenomenon was for real.  Unfortuneately, this trait is difficult to overcome because you don’t think about it until after it has already taken place.  Often, I’ve made myself a promise I would “beat” this act - that only gets worse as we age.  Yet because there’s no advance warning that an onset of it is about to occur, your senior moment takes place and it’s almost like a practical joke - kind of like punking yourself!

My latest happened last night.  School started this week after more than a two month hiatus.  Ever since my college summer job, working the graveyard shift at the New Brunswick (NJ) Post Office, I’ve been a “night person.”  While I need - and love - my sleep, if I have no meeting or other commitment scheduled for the next morning, I tend to stay up well past midnight and wake up later (sometimes, much later) in the morning.  Since my last act before retiring for the night is blogging, I sit at the computer, located just on the other side of a small partition in our master bedroom (which, by the way, is bad feng-shui, according the Central Valley’s best - and my personal - yoga instructor, the now quite pregnant, Katie Flinn-Gardner, owner of COIL yoga) and type the following day’s blog.  In order for it to post the next day, I have to hit the “Publish” button after 11:00 pm, never a problem during the summer months.  Now that school has started, however, I try to write the blog and edit it much earlier in the evening, and then leave it ready to publish, so that when I wake up 1 1/2 hours after going to bed (like clockwork, another age-related experience), I simply hit the “Publish” key and turn off the computer.  Then, it’s back to sleep.

When I got home from school at 4:00 pm yesterday (Wednesday), I was surprised to see the computer light was on.  I moved the mouse (since the screen was black) and was shocked to see appear before my very eyes what was supposed to be Wednesday’s blog.  Although I had gotten up to go to the bathroom (twice) last night, on each occasion, not only did I forget to click and turn the computer off, nothing about it ever even crossed my mind - throughout the entire day! 

Over the years, I’ve been told on innumerable occasions by my friends, “I’m never going to tell you anything I want you to forget.  Your memory is incredible!”  Nowadays, I tell people,

“I have a great memory.  It’s just short.” �

As the 2009 NFL season gets under way, there will be many fans whose wishes will be kept alive with some early season success.  Others will have their dreams dashed right out of the gate.

The beginning of the season allows fans to engage in what’s quickly becoming America’s favorite pasttime - trash talking.  And when it’s your team that gets crushed in the first two regular season games, you need to take it out on someone.  After all, it can’t be your fault.  I mean, you don’t play.  (Funny though, how much bravado you display when your team wins). 

Who that someone is will most likely depend on where you, or rather your favorite team calls home.  If Buffalo tanks early, T.O. will be a scoundrel, a cancer that everyone knew he’d be all along - even if he’s putting up big numbers (we’re talking reality football here, the way the game was meant to be played, so when the team loses, people who root for that team get upset).

If Oakland goes south, Al Davis will be catching the overwhelming majority of the criticism.  He probably doesn’t deserve all that he’s gotten the past decade, but it’s pretty close to proportional to the praise he received when the franchise was bordering on a dynasty.  That wasn’t all Al’s doing, either.

In Chicago, should Da Bears lose, Jay Cutler will be villified - super stats or not - and all because he popped off when there was no need - right after the trade.  There is a group of loyal fans there who will forgive his losing, but only if the Bears cover.

And, if it were multiple choice question as to which of the Falcons would catch hell if that club started poorly, every answer to that question (but the last one) would be Michael Vick.  And the last answer would be “All of the above.”

Naturally, if these same teams busted out of the gates playing near perfect football, these same cast of characters would be hoisted on the city’s shoulders for their godlike qualities. None of the above have been portrayed - at least recently - as a “nice guy,” which should bode well if you’re a devotee of the man whom a complex is named after.  One of the most diminutive, but nonetheless, effective bosses of all time, Napoleon, is credited with saying:

“A leader of whom it is said. ‘He’s a nice man’ is lost.”

   �

The first day of high school is confusing for many kids, especially freshmen and transfers.  The greatest problem, at this time of the year, is kids coming into class late, due to not knowing how to get to the class on their schedule, going to the wrong class or, the situation that comes up long after the previous two have been corrected, socializing too much between classes. Then, once they realize the time, they make a (sometimes not so) mad dash to the next class (which on our campus can be upwards of a half mile - which is why the minimum amount of time between classes is six minutes).

Oftentimes, the young tikes are late.  According to our creative writing teachers, the reasons they give ought to be incorporated in the papers they write.  Once these kids matriculate at the college level, some of these gems become legendary (one of them you can find , on page 99 of my book, Life’s A Joke).  Although one of the more boneheaded attempts at explaining tardiness, that story will not be retold here.

When I was working at USC, our head coach, George Raveling was a firm believer in teaching the guys more than just basketball.  Each year, we’d have speakers come to campus and they’d address the team on a variety of issues, basketball being just one on a laundry list of topics.

One year, Eugene “Mercury” Morris, the starting tailback on the only NFL team to go undefeated from the beginning of the season through the Super Bowl, the 1972 Miami Dolphins, flew to LA to address our squad.  “Merc” had been caught in a sting operation after his playing career and, as he tells it, he started making every excuse he could think of, so as to avoid drug charges and prison time.  None of them worked. 

He finally saw the light while serving time, he told the team, when he realized that, whatever the circumstances, he was someplace he shouldn’t have been.  After his release, he got a talk radio show and, as a great many athletes do, went on the speaking circuit.  One big difference between Mercury Morris and others like him is that he really tells a great story and the anecdotes he tells have lasting messages.

One example, in particular, had him asking those present, i.e. players, coaches and managers, how many of us had ever been late.  Everyone, to a man (and the one female manager on the staff), put a hand in the air.  Then he asked us why.  “Why were you late?” he asked.  The answers were nothing that sent shock waves through Heritage Hall.  “My car broke down.”  “My girl was supposed to pick me up and she was late.”  And, of course, the most popular (and certainly the most credible) SoCal answer, “Traffic was brutal!”

He then said to the group, “How would you like to have an answer to the question, ‘Why are you late?’ that is perfect and fits every occasion?”  The entire group did a group forward lean as he raised his right index finger and said,

“You’re late because you’re late.  The rest is just a story.”

From that moment on, any time one of us showed up past the designated starting time (especially for practice, which for us was 5:45 am), the first thing out of his mouth was, “OK, I apologize.  I’m late because I’m late.  Do you want to hear the story?” �

Although most people don’t equate coaching basketball on the college level as working “in the field of education,” it is - or it’s supposed to be.  That said, today is the start of my fortieth (40th) year of working with America’s youth (30 years with the 18-22’s, and this one marking my tenth at the high school level).

I’ve been asked on several occasions about the differences between the two levels and some of the generalizations I’ve discovered are 1) in high school, the major problem is immaturity, while in college, it’s irresponsibility; 2) in college, we never talked about retiring - most of us were simply trying to survive before a new president or AD came in and “decided to go in a different direction,” i.e. hire his (or her) own guy; in high school, retirement is all we talk about! 3) in college, you deal with the student’s (player’s) parents before he enrolls, whereas in high school, you meet with them after the kids get on campus and 4) in high school, your life is run by a bell, although once that final (2:45 pm) bell rings, the remainder of your day (or weekend if it’s a Friday) is pretty much yours - oh yeah, and vacation is a word that’s used a whole lot more at the high school level.  College coaching allowed us some two-hour lunch breaks and, occasionally you could come to work a little later in the morning, but working late nights and disregarding what day of the week it was (there was no difference, you worked all of them) made for an action-packed, and many times, stressful existence.

It’s the similarities that make the jobs fun.  Seeing the light go on, e.g. whether I’m teaching a math problem to 15-year-olds who still are in awe of their surroundings yet come up with the right answer or whether I was going over a scouting report, explaining what we needed to do to beat a rival to remain in first place in the league, then having the team go out and flawlessly execute it. 

The number one greatest part of any job, as far as my world is concerned, is the interaction with your colleagues on campus, independent of whether they teach or coach, work in the clerical field, on the custodial side or with the administrative branch.  Being part of the same place unites people, if for no other reason than we all work for the same institution.  Empathy runs deep in this profession.  So does communication, although, unfortunately, that’s an area that’s going the way of the dinosaur.  Sad to see, but if that means we’re making progress, I guess that’s they way life is supposed to work.

There are ups and downs, as I imagine there are in other jobs, but the first day of a new year has always had a different feel toward it.  Maybe it’s expectations or maybe it’s because the glass of sand was just flipped and the countdown’s on until the first vacation day.  I wrote one of my early blogs (8/19/07) on the first school day and the quote I used then was one I’d paraphrased from an article I’d read.  The original was “The greatest gift a teacher can give is to inspire a desire to learn,” which I modified to:

“The greatest gift a teacher can give is to inspire a desire to think!”

After spending most of the day prepping my room for the first day of school (Monday), I went home, turned on the tube and guess what was showing for my viewing pleasure?  Nothing!  Both CNN and Fox News were about boring subjects (to me), race car driving was on ESPN (and since I barely can drive a stick, that was easily eliminated), the Little League World Series (a game in which they were about to invoke the mercy rule) was on ESPN 2  and, while there were reruns of a couple of good movies, Meet the Parents and The Fugitive, I wasn’t planning to spend that much time in front of the TV.

Then, the remote moved toward the network stations and, lo and behold, an NFL preseason game between the San Francisco 49ers and their crosstown rivals, the Oakland Raiders, was in progress, although it was already well into the second half.  However, it was a back-and-forth affair from there, with the Raiders going ahead, only to be caught and passed by the Niners.  With less than 4 minutes to go, down 7, the Raiders’ QB (someone near the bottom of the depth chart) scrambled and was shoved out of bounds, while he tried to stretch for the pylon.

The call on the field was no TD - 4th & goal at the one.  The Raiders’ new head coach (their zillionth in as many years), a big, rough-looking guy named Tom Cable (who, from recent reports, is quite the competitive sort), threw the challenge flag (I think the announcers said he broke it) and, sure enough, won the reversal, pulling the Silver & Black to within one.  Then, in a bold move (their mantra’s not “Just tie baby!”), Oakland went for two! 

The play, though, didn’t develop as well as the Raiders had hoped (in other words, it came off  exactly as Raider fans have seen again and again - in this century anyway), and the quarterback was immediately pressured, forcing him to chuck the ball up for grabs in the end zone, where the alert 49ers’ DBs made sure it wasn’t caught.

If this blog doesn’t exude the emotion that a long time rivalry ought to, it’s for the following reasons: 1) I’m originally from NJ and rooted for the New York (football) Giants, as we were forced to call them in order to distinguish them from the other team with the same name (yes, this makes me a year or two from being considered ancient), 2) after graduating from college, I worked many long days and much of what I had previously enjoyed had to be sacrificed in my attempt to climb the proverbial coaching ladder (which, by the way, I never did get to the top).  The NFL was one of these sacrifices. 

My disinterest in the NFL was briefly interrupted when I took a job (for what turned out to be only a one-year stay), at Robert Morris College for the 1976-77 school year.  RMC is located in Pittsburgh and, as any knowledgeable football fan will tell, that time was during the “Glory Years” of the Steelers.  It was impossible not to get caught up with Bradshaw, Swann, Harris, Ham, Lambert and the rest of Chuck Noll’s Super Bowl Champs.

The third reason the 49ers and Raiders never “hooked” me is when we moved to Fresno (from Southern California) in 1995, I looked at the stereotypical fan of each club.  The average 49er fan is a somewhat preppy, fraternity-type, while the normal (not sure that’s the right word) Raider fan is a rather vulgar, Neanderthal looking - and acting person (with the male Raider fans no better).  Neither one appealed to me.  Plus, I was making enough trips to the Bay Area, after I finally got referred to the Stanford Pain Clinic.  Nothing in their treatment mentioned a strong attachment to either team as a means for lessening the pain.

I recently saw a quote by Bertrand Russell which elicits the kind of emotion I experience when someone mentions the 49er-Raider rivalry:

“If two hitherto rival football teams, under the influence of brotherly love, decided to co-operate in placing the football first beyond one goal and then beyond the other, no one’s happiness would be increased.”

  �

One of the industries hardest hit by the economy is college athletics.  With administrators coming to the conclusion (between 30-35 years later, depending on the institution) that when Title IX was passed in 1972, it meant it was a law, something that, if you didn’t follow, you would wind up paying dearly.  

No budget-slashing idea has caught on at the University of Tennessee where they make certain they’re in compliance, yet still manage to find upwards of $3.3 million - for salaries for their assistant football coaches.  That means if the Vols went 13-0 (a respectable year, from the fans’ viewpoint), their football staff, not including head coach Lane Kiffin (whose annual package is in the seven figure category, similar to the way it was when I got there in 1980 - except all seven figures are to the left of the decimal point, not just five of them like it was in those days), would cost the school over a quarter of a million dollars per game - and you’d be hard pressed to find a single soul in Knoxville who wouldn’t think every cent was justified.  Possibly because if they went 0-13, the cost would be even more - the $3.3 mil, plus moving expenses, a nationwide search and even more for the next coaching staff.  Orange might be the favorite color in TN, but green follows closely behind.

On the professional front (for some reason, UT is still considered amateur), Eli Manning recently signed a contract which will pay him an average of $15.3 million annually, exceeding his brother, Peyton’s, contract of $14.17 mil per year.  But don’t feel too sorry for his older bro; he’s more than making up the difference in endorsement dough (a talent he seems to have that might not equal his QB skills, but only because his QB skills are the best in the game - which, by the way, is why his next contract will be even more than Eli’s).  

And there will be a few other signal callers who will sign mega-deals, thanks to Eli - and David Tyree, the receiver who trapped the ball against his helmet, keeping what turned out to be the game winning drive alive - in the Super Bowl!  In the process, it cost me $240 in our annual  pool, which is based on scores of each of the participating teams at the end of each quarter (as if watching the Super Bowl isn’t entertaining enough).  One of my “boxes” (I sprung for $20 for two of them) had the AFC team’s final score ending in 4 and the NFC’s participant ending in 0, so a 14-10 Patriots’ victory would have suited me just fine.  Not because I wanted them to win - a Giants’ 20-14 would have been just as nice. 

So, with all my that money riding on the game, Tyree’s miraculous catch - under that kind of pressure - was nothing short of remarkable.  I guess that’s what separates the great ones from the guys who sit on the edge of their chair, waiting for the game to end, knowing if the Patriots can just shut down the Giants - and close out a 14-10 victory, I get what amounts to someone else making (one of) my February car payments.    

This past basketball season, many teams in the NBA “tightened their purse strings” during the free agency signing period, waiting to open up the pocketbooks and “let the green flow” when next year’s uber-crop of free agents hit the market.  The names of those who won’t have to worry about filling out the short form for quite a while are: LeBron James, Dwayne Wade, Chris Bosh, Amare Stoudemire, Paul Pierce, Ray Allen, Tyson Chandler, Manu Ginobili, Richard Jefferson, Joe Johnson, Tracy McGrady, Yao Ming, Dirk Nowitzki and Michael Redd.

This year’s belt tightening meant Hedo Turkoglu who, at 6′10″ can run the NBA’s offense-du-jour-decade (the pick & roll/pop), left Orlando, where he played more than a bit part in leading the Magic to the NBA Finals, to chase the money - all the way across the border, to Toronto, for the sum of $53 million over five years.  Chicago’s Ben Gordon, this century’s version of Vinnie “the Microwave” Johnson, i.e. a guy who can churn out points in huge numbers in a hurry (at both ends of the floor, but fans only know how many are at the offensive end - because those are the ones that are printed in the paper), turned down a $56 million/5 year offer from the Bulls before the season, then was offered only $51M/5yr following their playoff defeat to the Celtics in an epic seven-game battle.  He showed Chicago - by turning down that puny offer to sign a deal for an additional $4,000,000 from the Detroit Pistons (coincidentally, the Micro’s old squad).  What this means is he actually lost a million from the original offer he turned down.  You’re thinking, “So, he lost a million.  He’s still making an average of $11 mil/year for the next half decade.”  Go ahead, pooh-pooh it.  Just remember, a million here, a million there, it starts to add up.

The “making lemonade out of lemons” award goes to the Lakers who were snubbed by their young, talented forward, Trevor Ariza, a critical piece of their run to the title.  Ariza bolted LA for Houston and its five-year, $33 million offer.  How would the World Champs deal with the depletion of such a critical rotation player?  Simple.  Make the identical offer to Houston’s Ron Artest, essentially trading youth for experience - and, arguably, improving the champs’ roster.  And all it took was $53 million over five years.  Not sure I’d have made that deal but, then again, not having that Super Bowl money Tyree’s catch cost me is probably clouding my thinking.  

But for sheer, unadulterated spendthrifting (if that’s a word - and if it’s not, he could buy its way into Webster’s), Jerry Jones is right where he wants to be - at the top.  The size of scoreboard alone of his newest toy, the football stadium for his Dallas Cowboys, is 160′ x 72′ and weighs 1.2 million pounds - yet isn’t high enough to avoid a booming punt.  Jerry paid $1.15 billion (yeah, the amount Dr. Evil finally came up with) - and, I believe I read somewhere that with transactions such as these, all sales are final.  Somehow, I don’t think Jerry’s going to tire of his hobby anytime soon.  Anything over a cool bil kinda locks you in forever.       

The sporting world seems to have fallen in line with Oscar Wilde’s feeling toward “doing it huge:”

“Moderation is a fatal thing.  Nothing succeeds like excess.” �