The NachoGrandpa fills the role of Assistant Nachoman in charge of observation of Sports Talk Radio. During his hour-long commute each morning and afternoon, he (willingly!) listens to local and national sports talk shows, and often relays the content to me.[1]
This week has been rather light in terms of true national sports news, defined as issues about actual games or championships to discuss. College basketball is on sort of a hiatus as the players prepare for their tutors to take their exams for them; college football is done until the Stuffonmycat.com bowl later this month. Even the NFL playoff picture is reasonably settled, except for a bunch of .500 teams who are fighting for the right to lose in the wild card round. So, what did sports yaks have to talk about?
Bobby Petrino’s departure from the Falcons saved the Nachograndpa from a week of ignorant steroids speculation.[2] The Nachograndpa complained to me that he couldn’t understand the big deal. He saw a (presumably) skilled professional accept a better offer from a competing company, admittedly an always awkward situation. “People might put forth moral or character or whatever issues here regarding Petrino’s behavior,” said the Nachograndpa, “but the main concern of the press seems to be, ‘He lied to me. Journalists must never be lied to.’ Nonsense.”
On one hand, I completely agree that lying to the national sports media ought to be at worst a misdemeanor, especially with regard to coaching changes. I continually hear journalists make mountains out of molehills when coaches carefully explain that they’re not considering leaving their current teams. No matter what the coach says, reporters will engage in irresponsible speculation. Though I don’t think it right, the Nachoman can at least understand the temptation to feed the media sharks baldfaced lies during contract negotiations.
The Nachograndpa and I have disagreed previously about the propriety of a sports figure abandoning his responsibilities in the middle of a campaign. He makes his argument by comparison to the working world of the typical salaried employee. Nachograndpa works as a computer systems analyst. If he were to receive an employment offer from a competing company, he would have every right to give a few weeks’ notice, and leave – in fact, upon finding out that he’d be gone soon, his firm might well say “get lost” without waiting the advance notice period. It would never occur to him, or to his employer, that he was “bailing” on the team. So, why shouldn’t Bobby Petrino take off as soon as he has a better offer in hand?
Having never worked as a typical salaried employee, I had trouble at first grasping Nachograndpa’s argument. I teach for a living – I can’t in good conscience just leave in mid-school-year, even if I got a better offer. (In fact, it would be rather unethical for a competing school even to make me a better offer mid-year.) Teaching, like coaching, is seasonal work. If I want to leave my current position, I am expected to do so during the offseason, and to give my employeer as much advance notice of my intentions as reasonable. Leaving mid-year would burden my school, my colleagues, and my students; not the least, it would seriously damage my prospects for future employment. A teacher who leaves mid-year had better have a good reason, such as becoming the next head coach of the New York Knicks.[3]
And so it is with a sports team. The principal complaint I heard in direction quotations from actual Atlanta Falcons players was one of hypocrisy. “Coach Petrino preached that we were family, that we should dedicate ourselves wholly to the success of the team and of our teammates. And then he left us with three games left to play. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions about how we feel,” is my paraphrase of a typical player comment. Mr. Petrino’s crime was not lying to reporters. His transgression was signing an enormous contract to coach the Falcons; demanding that his Falcons adapt to his rules, game plans, and coaching style, including the entire family concept; then hopping the first train out of town.
All that said, Professor Harold Hill only could scam River City, Iowa, because so many townspeople were ignorant rubes; if Springfield couldn’t see the true nature of Lyle Lanley, well, then they deserved the decrepit monorail that they got. I can’t feel too sorry for Falcons owner Arthur Blank, whose judgment as an employer rivals that of the New York Knicks, Detroit Lions, or the University of Alabama.
[1] I guess Sports Talk Radio is the modern equivalent of the jungle drums: they’re very loud, ignore them at your peril… but you usually just wish they’d shut up.
[2] “Sources have told ESPN that Homer Simpson, backup to Daryl Strawberry on the 1992 Springfield Nuclear Power Plant league championship softball team, will be named in the Mitchell Report.”
[3] I hear they are taking applications. No skill required, intern fondling optional.
Friday, December 14, 2007
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1 comment:
I liked that Harold Hill/Lyle Lanley analogy!
I'm also happy to note that Springfield's clubhouse is largely free of players listed in the Mitchell report--Clemens and Canseco are the only ones in it.
Sadly, Daryl Strawberry appears to have indulged in chemicals outside the purview of Sen. Mitchell's investigation, and surely none of us need delve back into the sad, sad story of Ken Griffey, Jr.'s late-career battle with gigantism.
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