Category: Sports

Much has been made of that videotaped tirade of Texas Rangers’ pitcher Kenny Rogers in which he shoved two cameramen – one of whom was hospitalized briefly. Rogers was subsequently suspended for 20 games and fined $50,000 by Major League Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig – subject to an appeal by the players’ union. The perfunctory apology has already been made, although Rogers is still not ready for his close-up.

You’d think no one had seen it coming. The wonder is that it isn’t a daily occurrence. Boorish behavior is. So is the uneasy proximity that is the odd, often testy mix of players and media.

Not unlike most disagreements and controversies, this one has two sides.

Both the players and media are at fault – although more blame obviously should be showered on the shover than on the shovee.

Free-agency leverage and television riches have spawned the era of the obscenely rich, obsequiously pampered professional athlete/entertainer. And too many of these individuals – especially in football and basketball – have been fawned over, lionized and enabled by a sports-celebrity culture since high school.

For many, it’s hardly a reach to become self-important and insufferable – yet forced to interact with those who lead such inglorious lives. Lives that necessarily entail queuing up for clichéd quote crumbs as if the interviewee were somebody truly important. It’s not a dynamic that begets respect.

Where else in America’s societal strata would you find such an empathy-challenged, combustible pairing as players and media? Those making seven and eight-figure annual salaries being chronicled and judged by those who don’t come close? Being criticized by those who never played well, if at all, the game they now over-cover – up close and too personal.

For their part, the media have never been more ubiquitous or intrusive. From beat reporters and in-your-face photographers to freelancers and the myriad of cable-outlet hucksters. Players, albeit rich and famous, are commodities – and somebody’s 24-7 target.

But it’s much more than the media’s sheer quantity and pervasiveness. In a bygone era, it was not unusual for local scribes to earn the moniker of “homer” — and sports departments of daily newspapers the sobriquet of “toy departments.” Now, everything is fair, so to speak, game. On the field, off the field — in the locker room, in a night club, in a courtroom, at large.

Imagine the Babe Ruth coverage by modern saturation standards.

But the media — whether probing, provoking or prying, whether astute, stupid or sycophantic – are an integral part of the business of the games athletes play for pay. Like them or not, the media are a continuous loop of constant free publicity. Game stories, sidebars, commentary, statistics, standings, odds, point spreads, injury reports. Daily, around-the-clock coverage that promotes the games, the leagues, the franchises and the players. The sort of gratis ink other industries can only salivate over.

What professional baseball, basketball and football players should do is look to NASCAR for guidance. To wit: Never take your fan base for granted. Remember that being overpaid does not make you bigger than your sport. And your sport would not be in a position to overpay you were it not for media, sponsors and fans.

NASCAR drivers know that it takes more than skilled driving and a talented crew to separate them from garden variety gear heads with lots of speeding tickets.

In addition to his anger management classes, Kenny Rogers should be made to take notes on NASCAR and at least act like he realizes how lucky he is.

Esteban Yan, call home. It’s that bad for the bedeviled Rays.

Lou Piniella won’t quit; he leaves too much money on the table. The Rays won’t fire him; they’d have to ante up. Barring a buy-out and a deal with another team, Lou, Stu Sternberg and Vince Naimoli are stuck with each other through next season. The Axis of Upheaval.

But here’s the real rub for Lou. He’s smart enough not to walk away from millions, but he’s proud enough to care that his reputation and legacy are taking a pounding.

His has been a solid managerial career with one World Series ring. He left Seattle with marginal-to-arguable Hall of Fame credentials. But these last 2 ½ seasons his winning percentage has plummeted, although there was consolation in taking the Rays from bad to slightly less bad. After this season, however, even that dubious standard will likely not be met.

There may be only one way for the 62-year-old manager with a Rays’ contract through 2006 to make a real run at the Hall. He needs to preside over a turn-around next season. Pipe-line prospects have to produce; management has to spend seriously and wisely on pitching; and Aubrey Huff has to stop playing like the second coming of Ben Grieve.

That’s how Lou gets into the Hall.

No, I don’t like his chances either.

Penn State, which opens its 2005 football season against USF, has had one winning season in the last five. For many observers, that’s reason sufficient to conclude that the game has passed by its legendary coach, 78-year-old Joe Paterno.

It’s all about recruiting, any knowledgeable fan can tell you. The bluest blue chippers don’t see themselves prepping for the pros in boring uniforms under the tutelage of a septuagenarian who looks like he should be re-soling shoes. He might be somebody’s icon — but not theirs.

Now comes this small wire item buried in the sports page last week. It seems that a PSU defensive tackle – one expected to be a key player this year – has been expelled for violating regulations regarding sexual conduct. Specifically, he violated a Code of Conduct about “confining another student against their will.”

Say it ain’t so, Joe. What are you doing in an arena where to be competitive you have to be increasingly dependent on Hessians with attitudes rather than legitimate student-athletes? It shouts volumes when circumstances dictate that a proud university needs to put in writing that it’s not permissible to “confine another student against their will.”

Paterno doesn’t need any more of this. His legacy should have been everything that had happened prior to the last five years. A couple of national championships, a handful of undefeated seasons — and the “noble experiment,” which meant high graduation rates and rare rap-sheet references.

Say it’s so, Joe. Step down after this season before any more high school hot shots know nothing other than a PSU program that loses more than it wins. Step down from compromised standards that result in a written proscription about confining people against their will. And step away from the caliber of players who can’t even abide by that.

When NFL Commissioner Paul Tagliabue announced that the host “city” for the 2009 Super Bowl was “Tampa Bay,” it spoke volumes. Super Bowl XLIII will be played at Raymond James Stadium in Tampa for sure, but the winning offer ultimately came from this region. No surrounding amenities – such as world-class beaches, golf courses and resorts – no Super Bowl at the RayJay.

Special congratulations go the Super Bowl Task Force and the three principals – Tampa Mayor Pam Iorio, Hillsborough County Commissioner Jim Norman and task force chairman Dick Beard — who stepped into the presentation pressure cooker and stepped up to make their oral pitches.

And for all that is said of the privacy-obsessed, public-relations challenged Glazer family, they do know how to close a deal. And more and more, it’s obvious that the go-to Glazer is Bryan, who has become a formidable and effective spokesperson for the area and a respected member of the owners’ fraternity.

When Dr. Tim Muscaro slips away from his South Tampa dental practice, he usually can be found on a golf course. He’s an 18 handicap – but would doubtless be better were it not for every duffer’s Achilles’ tendency: three-putt greens.

Recently, however, he’s made progress.

In his backyard.

He sprang for an 18-feet by 20-feet putting green behind his Sunset Park house. Went for top-of-the-line synthetic nylon turf and added some seasonal landscaping. Cost him about $2,500.

He now swears by it – and not at his short game.

“It’s kind of a joke with my golfing buddies,” says Muscaro. “I’ve said on more than a few occasions, ‘Hey, I’ve got this exact putt in my back yard.'”

It’s all because he became enamored of a product he saw at a PGA Show in Orlando. A product that simulated surface contours, could be moved inside when necessary and wouldn’t turn his backyard into a construction site. It’s called Tour Links, from Seminole-headquartered Creative Sports Concepts Inc. The product, which is manufactured and shipped out of Dayton, OH, was launched last August.

Tour Links’ president is 45-year-old Baltimore native, David Barlow. He’s also the founder, inventor (with six U.S. patents and two pending) and lead investor (along with his parents). He’s in an industry that’s fragmented among mom-and-pop operations, landscapers, swimming pool installers and a number of companies that specialize in a range of sports surfaces.

The potential market has been conservatively estimated at nine figures. Obviously that transcends PGA Tour professionals and the landed gentry. Industry observers expect the numbers to explode when retail’s potential is finally realized.

That’s where Tour Links’ future – and fortune – lies, ambitiously predicts Barlow.

To date, his product line – with a price range of $239.00 to $1,699.00 – is already carried by sports retailers Brookstone and Golfsmith. The latter is the largest golf retailer in the United States.

“It’s a great fit for our customers,” says Chris Hargett, senior buyer at Golfsmith, “because it enables them to practice their putting and chipping as if they were actually on the golf course.”

Additionally, Tour Links is distributed by a number of the largest sports-surface manufacturers and installers in the country, such as Field Turf (which did Tropicana Field), Sport Court and Mirage.

An even bigger retailer awaits, however. Barlow has been in negotiations with Home Depot. The plan is for HD to begin carrying Tour Links in test stores with the expectation of a national roll out later in 2005.

The allure, points out Barlow, is cost, portability and flexibility. The greens lend themselves to countless configurations through the arrangement of modular panels that are easily assembled and re-assembled. An infinite number of breaks can be created by inserting foam contour mats beneath the turf.

“Anybody can have anything they want,” emphasizes Barlow.

From August to Christmas, Tour Links did about $500,000 in sales, he says. “We see the trend line for $3-4 million next year,” he projects. After that — $1 million a month. Then he’ll consider major investors.

“Right now we’re looking to sell our way out of debt,” says Barlow. After that, his ambitions couldn’t be more bullish – no putts about it.

“My goal and my belief,” underscores Barlow, “is that our product line will dominate this industry in three years.”

High-Profile Entrepreneur

Tour Links is not Tom Barlow’s first foray into sports. He’s a life-long golfer and a 12 handicap. He founded Dimensional Art Inc. that created, among other things, the interactive FanLand that was a big hit when the Tampa Bay Lightning called St. Petersburg’s Thunder Dome home.

Before formally launching Tour Links last summer, he proved adept at getting his patented product into numerous high-visibility venues. Among them: the Ryder Cup, the PGA Tour’s “First Tee” program, the Merrill Lynch “Skins Game,” ESPN’s 25th Anniversary celebration, The Golf Channel’s “Drive, Pitch & Putt” competition and NBC’s “The Apprentice.”

“We’re getting that corporate recognition,” says Barlow. “Then (individual) endorsements, per se, will come. “Our concentration now is retail – then getting it into the hands of pros.”

Believe it or not, something good may yet result from that debacle last week at Yankee Stadium. That’s where the Devil Rays were humiliated 19-8 by the Yankees. The Rays allowed a franchise record 13 runs in the second inning.

The silver lining is this: The fiasco was witnessed in person – but not incognito – by 49% general partner Stuart Sternberg. It’s been rumored that Sternberg has been warming up in the management bullpen to relieve tight-fisted, ham-handed managing general partner Vince Naimoli. Possibly by next year.

Sternberg, a retired managing director of the investment firm Goldman Sachs, saw for himself what he and his investment group bought into last year for $65 million. That is, a franchise that, without an infusion of intelligently spent capital, will remain under a competitive governor.

Worse yet, there are no guarantees that the team will remain in this market. There is an obvious correlation between competitiveness and home attendance and Major League Baseball’s patience with an underperforming franchise.

Perhaps the first-hand, shock-and-awe experience was exactly what the Rays and Sternberg needed. This franchise can be saved, but it needs a closer – not a mop-up man from the bullpen.

It was one of those stories that stops you in your tracks and leaves you misty eyed. You just don’t expect it from the sports section over your morning coffee and English muffin.

The news of the day featured Vince Naimoli’s latest temper tantrum; reflections on Tiger Woods’ victory in the Masters; the Red Sox rolling out a World Series banner the size of Rhode Island; Sammy Sosa’s debut at the Trop; an untimely ankle injury to Serena Williams; and college football players from Tennessee and Georgia arrested for beating up some people.

And then there was this.

The Lightning’s Brad Richards kept a promise — and it had nothing to do with the team, the NHL lockout or his injury rehab. He had said he would be back to participate – for the second consecutive year — in the Pediatric Cancer Foundation’s “Fashion Funds The Cure” at Tampa’s Saks Fifth Avenue. He flew in from his home in the Canadian province of Prince Edward Island to be a catwalk escort to young cancer patients.

According to the story in the Tampa Tribune, the girls modeled designer clothes and accessories and “were pampered with makeup, manicures and pedicures.”

“These are girls, that because of their cancer treatments, struggle with body image,” explained Lisa Orlando of the PCF. “It’s rough on them, so it’s nice they get treated to something so special.”

The account was accompanied by a photo of Richards arm in arm with a young cancer patient whose adoring look said the experience was, indeed, beyond special. You wanted that moment freeze-framed forever for that young girl — and then you noted your eyes had re-misted.

It was a reminder of what is important enough to be genuinely special. Winning at Augusta and unveiling a World Series banner in Fenway Park never seemed so inconsequential.

Some players have made better use of their lockout time than others.

The controversy of church and state separation is back on court. Not IN court – but ON court – as in a basketball venue.

Last year it was a female Muslim USF player who wanted to play attired in her hijab (head scarf), a long-sleeved shirt and long pants. After considerable flap and bad national publicity, USF agreed to petition the NCAA for an exemption to its uniform rules.

The case became moot when the student quit – the team, the university and Islam.

Now the issue is back — at the Amateur Athletic Union level. It’s centered around a Hillsborough County middle school Muslim, Briana Canty.

She was initially not allowed to play in an AAU tournament in Orlando because she insisted on wearing her hijab. Eventually, after her mother had complained and the Florida Council on American-Islamic Relations had interceded, the AAU relented. The 12 year old played in her hijab.

Three points.

Freedom of worship is a constitutional right. The right to express it any time, any way, any where is not a corollary. It’s more a function of cultural acquiescence and common sense.

Second, if everyone were allowed a sartorially symbolic extension of their religion when suiting up for secular play, the games would degenerate into sectarian follies. Here a yarmulke, there a crucifix. Would the line be drawn at Roman collars? Hair shirts? Burqas? Saffron robes?

The last point: There’s a very good reason why it’s called a UNIFORM.

Last year Devil Rays’ pitcher Jorge Sosa was 4-7 with a 5.53 ERA in 43 games. That is not good, even on a bad team. Back in the day, it might have been grounds for release. Or at least a pay cut. These days the question is: Exactly how much should his salary ($327,000 last season) hike be? In this case, nearly double ($650,000).

Some things you can’t blame on steroids, unless they’re being injected in the wrong place.

Controversy is no stranger to veteran Temple University basketball coach John Chaney. Over his 23 seasons at Temple, he has won 491 games and lost his temper in outrageous ways countless times.

Once, while being physically restrained at a post-game press conference, he shouted, “I will kill you” at University of Massachusetts coach John Calipari. Presumably the threat was more hyperbolic than homicidal. Presumably.

The 73 year old is as much bother figure as father figure. He can be intimidating and profane to everyone when he loses it, as well as stern and caring when it comes to his players, virtually all of whom are inner-city black kids from modest – or less – means.

He’s in college basketball’s Hall of Fame as well as society’s Halls of Blame and Shame.

But this time, he has pushed the envelope of obnoxious, boorish behavior too far. This time more than feelings were hurt.

The day before a recent loss to Philadelphia city rival St. Joseph’s, Chaney announced that he would go “goon” for retaliatory purposes if officials allowed St. Joseph’s to get away with what he termed “illegal” moving screens.

He made good, as it were, on his word to “send a message.” His “goon,” 6-8, 250-pound Nehemiah Ingram, picked up five fouls in four minutes, including a particularly blatant one that broke the arm of a St. Joseph’s player – ending the senior’s career.

Chaney is currently on suspension, which may or may not continue into post-season, tournament play – should Temple qualify for the first time since 2001. The university’s president, David Adamany, has said he will wait until after the season to decide Chaney’s fate.

What Adamany should do is look to Woody Hayes for precedent.

The late Ohio State football coach was also a Hall of Famer and a much bigger name – and a much bigger man — than John Chaney. His Buckeyes won five national championships. He also had interrupted his coaching career to join the Navy during World War II. He later commanded two destroyers in the Pacific.

And, yes, he had an infamously obstreperous, bullying side with those outside the Buckeye football family and was a tough, sometimes overbearing disciplinarian to play for. However, those on the inside, including black players such as two-time Heisman Trophy winner Archie Griffin, said he played the father-figure role well.

But Hayes lost it big time when he punched an opposing player during a 1978 Gator Bowl loss to Clemson. The next day – the VERY NEXT DAY – he was fired.

The feeling among most sports fans was that it was an unfortunate way to leave a Hall of Fame career, but some things cannot be countenanced. Losing your temper and lashing out in such a fistic fashion was beyond the pale.

In Chaney’s case, the “goon” hit man incident was premeditated.

It wasn’t a rash act borne of a momentary lapse in judgment. It wasn’t a heat-of-the-moment response. Chaney’s previously trumpeted intent was to send out an enforcer to intimidate and rough up the opposition. That’s why the seldom-used Ingram had more fouls than minutes played against St. Joseph’s.

Remember that Hayes threw a senior citizen punch at a player in a football uniform, who was startled but certainly not hurt. The St. Joseph’s player, John Bryant, went to the hospital.

It’s time for President Adamany to do the right thing. Fire Chaney. Preferably last week.