The Weekly Sports Burns Ed.2

LOCAL NEWS

THE BEST

Notre Dame came into the season as a favorite for the college football playoff. Or at least, a contender. Experts said it was Brian Kelly's most talented team. In the first game, they lost their number one tailback, Taream Folston, for the season. In the second game, they lost Malik Zaire, their number one quarterback.

But after their win against USC on Saturday night, the Irish sit at six and one, and still in contention for a playoff spot. How? Well, Deshone Kizer has been excellent. A true freshman, he has played much better than anyone expected. And C.J. Prosise has been a revelation at running back, making the switch from receiver and recording five, one hundred yard games already. The offensive line is filled with studs (left tackle Stanley is projected to go in the top three in the NFL draft) and they have a deep group of receivers.

The defense has struggled at times, particularly with their tackling, but they still boast a ton of playmakers (Sheldon Day and Jalen Smith) who are getting it done.

Beating USC always feels good. It's one of the oldest rivalries in college football, and so for at least one more week, Notre Dame remains in contention.

THE WORST

14 - 2. Cliff Pennington, a reserve shortstop pitched the ninth. Dickey never got out of the second. We ended up with four hits. So, yes, the Blue Jays are down 3 - 1 in the LCS to the Kansas City Royals who look like a machine right now, don't they? In Game Three, the Blue Jays finally got their offense on track but still ended up conceding eight runs, despite winning the game.

Facts are facts. Their pitching has been terrible. When we look back at this series, we'll probably look at a couple of things. David Price dominating until he didn't, and gave up that lead in the fateful seventh inning. The bullpen being stretched too hard because the starters weren't good enough. The bullpen, particularly the back end, with Hawkins and Tepera, just not being good enough against an awesome Kansas City bullpen. The Jays' bats going stagnant in the repugnant Kaufman field, built more like a cemetery than a baseball park designed to watch hitters slash opposite field singles and run a lot. (Boring.)

It's an old cliche, but for your team to win a championship, your stars have to be stars. Price has been a playoff bust. No, he wasn't hit that hard, but he gave up a three run lead. Donaldson has been okay, and so has Tulo, but the others?

Still, I put this on the pitching staff. They've been bad. What worries Jays' fans is that we only get two or three of our starters back next year. (Dickey has a club option.) The problem isn't the lineup. The problem is elsewhere.

Kudos for the defense, though. Aside from that Goins/Bautista miscue, they've been good. Let's get some damn outs, starters.

FAVOURITE MOMENT

Troy Tulowitzki's home run to put the Jays up 6 - 2. For a brief, shining moment, he gave us life. And then today happened. Sigh.

SIX THINGS

1. There's some concern around the Raptors about Demar's slow start. There should be. I like what I'm seeing in the pre-season. Lowry looks like an MVP candidate, and both Carroll and Joseph seem to be everything we were promised they would be. But DD is a usage-heavy shooting guard who slows everything down. If he could hit the three, like he did at times last season, it would mitigate some of those issues. But every time he touches it, the pace slows down, and he takes them out of their offense.

2. JV signed a huge contract in the offseason, but we still don't know what we're going to get from him. He's still slow on his defensive rotations, and every time he makes that pump fake, the apocalypse happens, we all go for dinner, and he still hasn't decided what to do with the ball. He needs to be good for them this year for the Raptors to contend for the division. We'll see.

3. The Bills get embarrassed again. Honestly, I don't know what to think. I hate their offensive line, other than Incognito and Wood, and if you want to take a page from the college ranks, look at Notre Dame. (Or the Cowboys last year) Their line is so good, they can lose their top RB and top QB and keep going because they get protection. Manuel was better then he'd been in the past, but he simply isn't good enough to be a starter in the NFL. He misses too many throws.

4. And the defense. Truly, the Bills defense played better, especially in the first half, then the final score suggests. Too many dumb penalties. Too much taunting. Too much idiocy. Darcy looks like a great pick, and Gilmore has played well. So, um, how about some pressure on the quarterback oh vaunted defensive line? The whole team screams mediocrity.

5. Do the Leafs look like a different team or what? Yes, they lost against Pittsburgh on Saturday, but it was really a hell of a game. The results aren't there yet, and they may not come this season thanks to a lack of talent, but I honestly thought I'd be skipping their games. They play a terrific, disciplined attacking style of hockey and hold on to the puck more than they did the last two seasons combined, when they all treated the puck like it was a live hand grenade. Kudos, Mr. Babcock, good job so far.

6. In 2012, everyone thought the Giants were done, trailing 3 -1 against the Cardinals. They came back to win the series and the World Series. Here's hoping lightning strikes twice. Go Jays!

(Author's note. I've been caught up in editing my latest novel this week, which, along with the election and a few other things has diverted my attention from the national sports scene. Next week, we'll have the regular spot for what else is going on in the world of sports. Cheers!)

The Weekly Sports Burns (1st. Ed.)

Welcome to the Weekly Sports Burns! If you want to know how the column works, check this out.

LOCAL NEWS


THE BEST

I was twenty-two when the Blue Jays won their second consecutive World Series. With the highest payroll in all of baseball at $56M, WAMCO (White, Alomar, Molitor, Carter, and Olerud) was a team for the ages. They'd been good for so long, it seemed inevitable that they would always be good. Then 1994 happened, the year of the strike, and everything changed. For the next twenty years they would toil in mediocrity, their highwater year an 88 win team under disgraced manager Tim Johnson. Along the way, they would never hit a real low until 2013, but in the most powerful division in baseball, they couldn't climb over the Red Sox and Yankees, who for the best part of fifteen years,  became the richest teams in the league with staggering $200M payrolls.

And then this year happened. Anthopolous, the Jays' GM, pushed all his chips into the middle of the table and turned the roster over by a staggering eighty percent in a twenty month span, and added Troy Tulowitski, Ben Revere, Mark Lowe, LaTroy Hawkins, and the big get, David Price, at the trade deadline.

For the next two and a half months, the Blue Jays played at a .750 clip, unheard of in baseball, where even the worst teams win forty per cent of their games. Down eight games to the Yankees at the beginning of August, they blew past them like they were standing still, culminating in a division championship.

It's been the best year of baseball for Jays' fans in a very long time.

But after losing their first two games at home this past weekend, the Jays looked like they might be swept out by a powerful Rangers' squad with a resurgent bullpen. Tasked with winning two on the road and attempting to come back from a 2 -0 deficit for only the third time in Major League history, the bats loosened in the Texas heat, and the Jays bombed the Rangers in two games to tie the series and take it to a Game Five here in Toronto on Wednesday.

There are no guarantees, obviously. But the greatest season in baseball for Toronto fans in nearly two decades continues.

And that, was the best news of the week.

THE WORST

I'm tempted to point to the Jays' losing their first two games at home, but from a local standpoint, despite the Bills win over a bad Titans team, the struggles on the offensive line continue. Tennessee was in Buffalo's backfield all day. Seantrel Henderson looked about as effective an over-sized saloon door. Incognito has played very well, and Wood has been okay. But the Bills cannot allow Taylor to be running for his life all game, even if he's able to make plays with his legs (RGIII, anyone?) If the line doesn't get better, and get better fast, this team, despite their defense and weapons on offense, is not going to the playoffs.

(UPDATE) Taylor is out for several games due to a sprained MCL. Dammit!

FAVOURITE MOMENT

In Tampa last weekend, they had a shot before the game of left-fielder Ben Revere chatting with some Blue Jays' fans at field level. One little boy was wearing a Revere jersey, and the left fielder took a few pictures with him and ruffled his hair. Now, players do this all the time, more than we realize, but what this notable for me was the way the woman (who might have been his mom) was communicating with the boy using sign language. I paused the TV and rewound it, and then showed my wife. I asked her what she thought, and she confirmed what I'd seen.

As someone who spent nearly twenty years working with special needs' kids, that made my night. Truly, this is what sports is about. It looks like Revere might be one of the good guys.

SEVEN THINGS

1. The impact of Mike Babcock is already evident. Last year, for the first in a decade, I stopped watching the Leafs. They were a damn disgrace. No effort. Everyone doing whatever the hell they wanted. No one seemed to care. But their opening game against Montreal shocked me. They played an organized and aggressive style of hockey that but a weak goal and lack of scoring would have got them the win. It's going to take a while, folks, but make no mistake, this team is FAR different from last year's team.

2. If you're not impressed by a nationally ranked college football team that has lost its starting tailback and starting quarterback (and is now starting a freshman) nothing will. Yes, they were favoured against Navy, but that triple option is a pain to defend, and Navy will be a bowl team this year. If Kizer keeps progressing, look out. Notre Dame has a ton of talent on both sides on the ball.

3. One m ore thing about the Irish, thank you NBC for showing the Alma Mater. Some of us believe in that tradition. DON'T CUT IT!

4. If you haven't seen a picture of slimmed down Kyle Lowry, you need to, Raptor fans. I hardly recognize him.

5. It's preseason, but the "new" Lowry seems to have taken his game to the next level. Like dropping forty on the Lakers the other night. Again, it's preseason, but this looks like the MVP candidate from the first two months of last season. Great news for Raptors' fans.

6. Gibbons took a lot of flack for bringing in Price so early when Dickey seemed to be cruising in the fifth inning of Sunday's Jays' game. I don't understand the fuss. Loup wasn't available, and with Cecil injured, the only lefty they had was Price. It made perfect sense to bring in Price to go through the lefty dominant lineup of the Rangers at least twice. They couldn't have done that if they weren't sold on Stroman starting Game Five. But I'm sold. And if you're not, why not? The kid's the real deal.

7. Worried about Stroman's nerves? Today he was in the clubhouse, sitting by a bunch of the media guys, getting his hair done. Yeah. The kid will be fine.


NATIONAL NEWS


THE BEST

It has to be the Chicago Cubs, doesn't it, after taking a 2 - 1 lead over the Cardinals in the National League LDS. Look, everyone who follows baseball has the utmost respect for St. Louis. They run the best organization in the game and they are always in contention. (They're like the New England Patriots, only likable) But outside of Cardinals' fans, if you're not cheering for the Cubs, you might want to check your soul meter. Yeah, I'll cheer against them if they play the Jays' in the World Series, but no single fan base deserves to win more than the Cubs.

THE WORST

(I'm sticking with baseball a lot this week, but it's the only sport in the playoffs, and as I mentioned in my breakdown, playoffs come first.)

I hated Hundley's slide into second. I thought it warranted a two game suspension. Forget that it broke Tejada's leg, it was a dirty play. He was PAST the bag when he started to slide. If you're going to eliminate blocking the plate to protect catchers, why not protect middle infielders? Two players who were lauded and feared for their slides throughout their history were Frank Robinson and Don Baylor. And the dirtiest of them all was the first player ever elected to the Hall of Fame, Ty Cobb. (Bet you thought Ruth was the first one in, didn't you?) Cobb was famous for going spikes high. There's a reason everyone hated him. And feared him. But baseball has changed, and the game should NOT revolve around players avoiding injury.

FAVOURITE MOMENT

Nothing stuck out this weekend for me, except perhaps watching the Cubs win the Wild Card game. Arrieta is just... wow. Read this if you want to know how he's emerged as such a dominant pitcher.


FIVE THINGS

1. That Broncos defense is frightful. Peyton Manning has been playing like Eli played last year and it hasn't mattered. We'll see if he gets healthy. If he does, look out.

2. The Red Wings look like legit contenders to me, and that young kid, Larkin, looks special. He's the first teenager to crack the Red Wings lineup in twelve years, and you can see why. They bombed a disciplined if not terribly talented Leaf squad on Friday. If their goaltending remains solid, they're contenders. Period.

3. I honestly didn't think the Mets had much of a chance against the Dodgers, but suddenly a lineup that features YC and bite your tongue is an offensive powerhouse. As a Jays' fan, I can't help but sigh every time I watch young Thor pitch, but such is baseball.

4. I would very, very much like for the New England Patriots to stop losing. That's all.

5. The Association (NBA) is going to be interesting this year. When you watch Golden State, you can't help but wonder if the other teams are going to catch up. Because, damn, they're SO good. But they're are a lot of good teams in the West, though. I imagine it will come down to injuries. Except for the Clippers, I still think that they're overrated.

The Weekly Sports Burns (How It Works)

INTRODUCTION

When I was a kid, I used to carry a tape recorder and microphone around and "interview" my friends about their latest sports heroics. I would mimic favourite announcers like Dick Vitale and Howard Cosell. When I was twenty four, I took the broadcast course at the National Institute of Broadcasting in the hopes of one day working in radio or television as a sports commentator.

It never panned out, and my love for the arts led to a writer's life. But my fandom never left. I was one of the few jocks growing up that felt equally happy to talk about the Blue Jays' lineup or Robert Jordan's "awesome" new fantasy series.

And while I've written about sports on this site before, this will be the first time that I will dedicate a single post every week to that world. I do not know what the final format will look like or how long it will be. I'm open to any suggestions, and if you like a particular section more than any other, let me know.

For every young boy and girl that put on a glove or felt the nerves dance in their stomach as they pulled on their jersey and felt the thrill of joy when their team won, and for all the fans out there who still find joy and thrill in their teams, this column is for you.

Cheers,

Steve

How The Column Works

The Column will be broken down into two categories, Local News and National News. Local News will deal with the local teams

LOCAL TEAMS 

Toronto Blue Jays
Toronto Raptors
Buffalo Bills
Toronto Maple Leafs
Notre Dame Fighting Irish (football; my favourite team)
Any Canadian National Team

NATIONAL NEWS

The big four sports, plus tennis and maybe golf and anything else I find interesting. (For you EPL fans, sorry, I but don't follow it.)

One last thing, playoff sports will always get priority. Always.

Okay, onto the column! See you in the next post!

Steve

Jays Lose - Moratorium and Other News

As any reader here must have noticed, I'm an avid sports fan. The Toronto Blue Jays are my favourite team, and after suffering their second playoff loss in as many days, I'm not of the mind to write about anything else.

GAME 2 THOUGHTS

1) Marcus Stroman was not only terrific this afternoon, but he has shown that he's a future ace. Despite the loss, the moment is never to big for this twenty-four-year old. That's encouraging. After they scored early, they didn't touch him until that bloop single in the eighth inning.

2) The defense has let them down in this series. Yes, they've made some nice plays in the field, but in the playoffs, everything changes on an error. That Martin error cost them the game. He's a great player, but he threw the ball well early for a rundown. That's nothing but nerves and anxiousness. It happens. But you can't beat a team like Texas with those kinds of mistakes. You can't.

3) The bullpen was magnificent. Two runs over seven innings, and those runs courtesy of the umps. Wonderful.

4) The Umps. Look, every team that loses in the playoffs complains about the umpires. But this was a disgrace. There was a detailed piece about the umpires on Grantland before last year's playoffs that show how umpires are selected. MLB insists that they choose based on performance. Except its not true. The umpire's union is so strong, only veterans work, regardless of what kind of year they had. This is unacceptable. Forget the horrific and ever shifting strike zone, what's the point of having replay, when a player is clearly being tagged and off the base, and you're going to call him safe. I won't say that the umps cost the Jays the game (look to my next point for that) but it cost a team not playing very well a chance to even the series.

5) Donaldson, Tulo, Edwin, and Bautista are a combined 5 for 35 in the series. Tulo is 0 - 10 with four strikeouts. This is the series right here. Today they had 8 hits over 14 innings. If your four superstars don't produce, you don't win. Period.

6) I don't buy into any of the stuff about them "taking the foot off the gas pedal." Honestly, I think the season may have ended (it's not over yet) when Osuna blew that game in Tampa on Saturday. I have no idea why people thought Texas was a good matchup for the Jays. Sure, they have two left-handed startes at the back of their rotation (I don't count Hamels, he's an ace), but they've show they struggle with Gallardo and the Rangers have Hamels. In a five game series, with their offense, that's plenty. Besides, they were nearly as hot as the Jays over the past two months.

To me, it was never about home field through the playoffs, it was about matchups. Toronto blew that game, and they got the one team in the league that's their krypotonite.

7) Loup looked okay today (the ball Hamilton hit was a shot), but losing Cecil is significant. How important it is, I'm not sure, but he's been the team's most consistent (and most dominant) reliever through the second half.

PREDICTION

The Jays will win in Game 3. (Perez? Who? And a lefty?) I honestly think this team plays better as an underdog, and I think their hitters are due for a big game. (It'll be 10-2 or something like that on Sunday) Estrada has been great all year. I expect he'll be great again.

This series will be decided in Game 4. The odds suggest that Texas will not lose three games in a row. But the odds also suggested that a home-dominant club like the Jays wouldn't lose two in a row at home.

I think Texas wins a close Game Four to close it out. But if they don't, the Jays will win in five.

Go Jays!

OTHER NEWS

I put a note out on Facebook last week asking if some of my readers and fellow sports fans would be interested in a weekly sports post. I received enough feedback to make it a go.

I'll unveil the Weekly Sports Burns this Monday. I have no idea how long it will be yet, but I'll divide the column between Local Sports (my teams) and National Sports (everyone else). Come along for the ride if you're interested, and if you have any comments or questions or requests, let me know.

Here's hoping I get to write that blog in a better mood.

5 Things: Raptors vs. Celtics (Pre-season)

I started doing "5 Things" last year after Raptor games, and this year we're going to try and make it a regular feature, time willing. It's great to have basketball back, even if it's only pre-season.

After winning 48 games last year and pushing Brooklyn to seven games in the opening round, the Raps are looking to grow from last season's unexpected success. They re-signed Lowry, Patterson and Vasquez, and are hoping their young players like Ross and JV continue to improve.

Now, this is the pre-season, so you always want to be careful with your evaluation. Coaches aren't trying to win so much as trying to find the right combinations, allow the new players (like Lou Williams and James Johnson) get comfortable. So any analysis needs to keep that in mind. With that all said, here are my Five Things from tonight's game.

1) Demar is ready

Demar Derozan was a first time all-star last year. He made Team USA over the summer, as a surprise pick. He's clearly ready for the regular season. He looked decisive and confident tonight, and even showed flashes on the defensive end. If DD becomes even an avergae defensive player (and his 3 stroke looked very good tonight) he'll take yet another step towards stardom. He's already an all-star. Tonight, the Raptors looked decidely different with him on the floor.

2) Second Unit still finding its way

They added Lou Williams, a scorer, and James Johnson, as good a lockdown 3-4 defender in the NBA for their second unit, but it may take a while for those guys to figure out how to play together. The second unit got ripped tonight. There were clear communication issues, and when Williams isn't scoring, and JJ believes he is a scorer, there are problems. They did carry the first unit's unselfishness with them, which is a good sign, but they were something of a mess on the defensive end.

3) Defensive issues

Coach Dwane Casey said before the game the offense was ahead of the defense. No kidding. Awful transition defense, slow rotations (particularly JV), and a general lack of intensity brought to mind their late season struggles on that end. This is a concern going forward. People have lauded a backup duo of Williams and Vasquez, but neither of those guys play defense, and if they aren't scoring, JJ cannot cover for them completely. They'll give away leads like they did tonight with regularity.

4) More Defensive Issues

I don't want to hammer on this, but the Raptors ability to play good team defense (They finished in the top ten in the NBA last year) is this season's most concerning, and most important, issue. Boston shot over 50% tonight. The Raptors don't seem to recognize individual players on the floor. Jumping out at Evan Turner on the 3 point line, for example, so he can make the extra pass to a better shooter. Or not identifying that Avery Bradley has a jump shot and not guarding him until he scored 20 points in the first half. Everything about their defense screams desperation. I won't hammer on the whistle in the pre-season, but the fact that the Raptors got 2 technicals in a freaking pre-season game should indicate some frustration towards that part of the game. I blame this on frustration and some guys consistently not being where they were supposed to be. Give someone an open shot in the NBA, they're going to make it.

5) Kyle Lowry

Only fitting that this post start and end with the Raptors two best players. Lowry makes such a huge difference because even in a pre-season game, he gives a shit. He's the only truly good defender among the Raptor guards, and when he's out there, this is a completely different team. there are concerns going forward, mostly on the defensive end, but so long as Derozan and Lowry stay healthy, they'll compete and win their fair share of games. And that's all you can ask from your favourite team.

-Steve

Does The NFL Hate Women?

It was a slow walk up the apartment steps. I appreciated the quiet of my old apartment building, only four stories high and too short for an elevator. After a long workout, however, even four floors felt like a lot of work. As I opened the door to my hallway – top floor, of course – one of my neighbours was running from door to door, frantic.

            She was a stout girl who I’d bumped into once or twice in the laundry room, usually with one of her children. Now, however, she wore a nightshirt and underwear and nothing else. She still hadn’t seen me as she pounded on my door.

            “Please help!”

            I sprinted towards her. “Stephanie,” I said, thankful I’d remembered her name. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

            She turned. Two marks – one purple, one red – marked the left side of her face. She was breathing hard. “It’s my boyfriend. He won’t leave! The kids!”

            Adrenaline and rage washed over me, and for a moment I felt blind. Not again. Four weeks earlier I’d been woken up by the smashing of pots and pans in the apartment above me, accompanied by a few screams. I’d rushed upstairs and ended up throwing out a Nigerian man who’d just finished beating his girlfriend. She’d begged me not to call the police, and as I wasn’t sure what their status was regarding immigration, I did as she'd asked.

            I followed Stephanie down the hallway. Her door hung open. I stepped inside the dimly lit apartment. Her three kids – all under the age of five – gaped at me. All three were either naked or wearing only a diaper, and they were sitting on a bare mattress in the middle of the living room. The girl – the oldest one -- appeared to have been crying.

   

            Empty beer cans and overturned bottles covered every counter in the tiny kitchen. Water dripped from the faucet. And behind the kitchen table stood her boyfriend.

His beard was thick and black, and he dangled a gold and black tallboy from his hands. With the beard, it was impossible to tell how old he was – early thirties, maybe older – and he was small and lean. One of the children started crying.

“Shut up!” he yelled.

“Get out,” I said.

The other children started crying. This time he ignored them and looked at me. He wore a half-smirk that dangled around his lips like expensive jewelry. He noted the size difference – I probably outweighed him by fifty pounds – and put his beer can on the table. He shook his head a little, glanced over at Stephanie and back at me. “Women,” he said with his eyes. “Drama queens.”

Stephanie had gone to her children, content to leave this part to me. I ignored the attempt at misogynal bonding and jerked my head towards the door. He swaggered past me. I escorted him out of the building. He tried one last time when we reached the bottom stair.

“It’s her fault, you know.”

I gave him a blank stare. He shrugged and walked outside. I went back upstairs. Stephanie still hadn’t closed her door.

“Call the police, Stephanie,” I said. “You need to report it. If he comes back or you need anything, I’m just down the hall.”

She nodded. “I will. Thank you.” She turned back to her kids, distracted, and I closed the door behind me.

When I was young, I used to think that helping people in distress made you feel better. Well, this was about the fourth time around this particular rodeo, and all I felt was dirty.Sick. Like I’d just waded through a sewer of human shit. It’s always the same, I thought. Even if you’re trying to make it better. Even if you’re trying to help. You’re the one gets covered in it, and you’re the one who stinks.

RAY RICE 

It had been a while since I'd felt that dirty, but when the news about Ray Rice broke a few weeks ago, I felt that way again, especially after watching the above video. Yes, that’s the Baltimore Ravens’ star running back Ray Rice dragging his unconscious wife out of the elevator. According to the police, it was a result of a “minor altercation,” during which Rice beat her until she lost consciousness. It's about as disgusting a thing as you'll see.  

The NFL commissioner thought this was such a grievous incident that he suspended Rice for two games. To put that in context, if you fail an NFL drug test for marijuana, which they test at military-like levels, you get an automatic four game suspension. If you, say, stomp on the head of another player during the game, like Albert Haynesworth did, you get five games. If you beat your wife or girlfriend unconscious, you get a two games and the people around you, like Ravens’ coach John Harbaugh, will say things like “he’s a heckuva guy.”

"REAL MEN" ONLY

It goes without saying that the NFL has always had its own set of patriarchal tendencies. But within the changing societal landscape and under the weight of its own enormous influence within the culture, it has become a seemingly last-gasp playground for misogyny, white-knuckled fists clenched hard against the “progressive" agenda of equality.

And for many of the people who work around the NFL (most of whom are men) it’s clear they haven’t got a clue what to do with the changes to what was once a simple code. Classy old coaches like Tony Dungy, who works as a studio analyst on the most popular show on television, (NBC’s Sunday Night Football) said he wouldn’t have drafted Michael Sam, the first openly gay linebacker who was taken by the Rams with the last pick in the draft, because he wouldn’t have wanted the ‘distraction’ on his team. This from the guy who pushed for a team to take another chance on Michael Vick, the quarterback convicted of running dog fights. (Uh, what?)

Of course, if you’d have told the "establishment" around the NFL ten years ago that a three hundred pound lineman would take a nine game leave of absence because he’d been bullied (?!) by his fellow lineman, they would probably suggest that you’d lost your mind. And yet, that’s exactly what happened last year with whole Jonathan Martin – Richie Incognito incident.

The only thing that’s clear nowadays in the NFL is that, at least to most of the old-timers, nothing is clear. That’s true of many of its fans as well. (Question: How many ‘stop the effing sermons’ comments do you find on any article that talks about women or gays or bullying or anything outside the patriarchal domain of “bro” chatter? Answer: A lot. Or, watch the above video on YouTube and see how long you can read before you start to feel nauseous. I lasted four comments.)

In general terms, the NFL has managed to navigate these waters by staying away from them, ignoring them, or offering general platitudes while winking at its hard-core fans. It forces its players to wear hot pink for an entire month to raise money for breast cancer research, but when something real happens, when something that may affect the game on the field happens, it offers a two game suspension. And for anyone who thinks that a player beating a woman unconscious is pretty serious, the NFL flips us the collective bird.

It also doesn’t really care what happens to the women on the sidelines, the ones wearing short skirts and halter tops. I don’t have a problem with cheerleaders being on the sidelines, and for those who raise questions about objectifying women, I disagree. Vehemently. Those kinds of accusations may have some truth to them, but then you have to start extending that to look at women who choose to be models, women who choose to work as hostesses in restaurants, etc… I’m sorry, but a grown ass woman has a right to do what she wants, and leading cheers while waving pompoms is what it is. What I do have a problem with is the NFL’s inability to pay them a decent wage. Or let them form a union. And then there’s the lack of female commentators and analysts and studio hosts. (Every year, about halfway through the season, it becomes nearly impossible for me to watch the pre-game shows with all the fake ‘bro-chuckling’ going on in the studio.)

In a way, you can’t blame the league for doing it. They’ve done a better job mythologizing the game than any other sport over the past forty years, with the possible exception of baseball. (Baseball is better equipped to do it simply because it has a longer history. And the two sports are radically different in their mythological approach. Baseball has always been a father-son family game. Football is for men and building young men. Similar, but different enough in that most of the hard core NFL fans, especially the older ones, can’t fathom how the name “Redskins” might be offensive while Major League Baseball designates a Jackie Robinson day every April when every player wears his number.) The NFL doesn't need to explain anything. They don’t need to justify anything to anyone, especially a bunch of pushy liberals who never played the game.

Now What?

Varsity Blues "bro-ing it up"

Well, I’m not sure how pushy I am, but I played football for three years in high school. I loved every second of it, too. Changing in the hallway. Wearing the jersey on game day. Bro-ing it up with boys. It was like bathing in testosterone. If I’d been a peacock, my tail of feathers would have been wagging me. I remember watching Dwight Clark’s The Catch in the NFC Championship game with my dad back when I was a Cowboy fan. I remember standing on the table in a tavern as a twenty year old, screaming at Scott Norwood “Lifetime contract if he makes it!” during the Bills’ first Superbowl. (He didn’t.) So many memories. And now, well, now I’m not sure.

Living a Kind Life isn’t a religious thing or a cult thing, it’s about trying to do what we can in a pretty messed up world to be decent freaking human beings. My wife and I stopped shopping at Wal-Mart because The Evil Empire represents everything I hate about big corporations, in everything from where they buy their meat to how they treat their employees. That said, our little boycott is not a big deal. Those twenty bucks we’d spend there don’t matter, but that isn’t why we do it. We’re not interested in standing around their headquarters holding up a giant sign that says “Look at me! See how hip and countercultural we are!” No, it’s so much simpler than that. It’s about living a decent life and trying feel like you haven’t had your soul sucked down the black hole of materialism and greed and the shallow facades that permeate the three hundred billion dollar ad industry.

Hell, that’s part of the reason I love sports so much. I don’t want to watch another news story about the tragedy of humanity or Nancy Grace or Honey BooBoo. I want to dive into the mythology and story of a sport, the same way I do with fantasy. But it has become increasingly difficult to justify diving into a sport that clearly doesn’t care about some of the things that I hold dear, equality being one of them.

So what to do? How do I justify the attention I give the NFL? I’m not sure, truthfully. I don’t want to stick my head in the sand, because that goes against everything I believe. That a player can beat a woman unconscious without truly getting penalized leaves me feeling like I’ve been gut-punched. And every time I hear someone like John Harbaugh saying things like ‘he’s a heckuva guy,’ I remember Stephanie’s boyfriend looking over at me with that half-smirk, trying to appeal to my “bro-hood,” and I feel dirty and sick all over again.

I don’t think the NFL hates women, because the National Football League is a business, and businesses don’t hate their customers. Green is green. But does it cherish women, does it even consider the two genders equal? No. The league – which includes the players, coaches, media and management – condescends to women in much the way it always has, except now they have a few games where they wear pink. I'm not sure what I'm going to do just yet. Maybe wait and see how sick I feel this year. Or see if the league can redeem itself. The NFL may not hate women, but does it despise them, at least a little? Absolutely. 

And, well, that ain't no Kind Life.

-Steve

UPDATE: (September 1, 2014) The commissioner issued a public apology this week, and increased the ban for domestic violence charges to six games for a first offense, and a lifetime ban for a second offense. This was brought about because of the outcry from major news sites to blogs like this one. This is why we fight for a Kind Life, why we have to fight. Equality doesn't just happen. Now then, if we can just get the NFL to lighten up on the whole 1950's weed issue... 

Top 7 Sports Movies of All-Time

If you’re going to post a “Top” movie list, there has to be some explanation behind the choices because every list like this is subjective. For me, a great sports movie taps into the mythology of both the sport and the culture it’s based on. I expect a Great Sports Movie to:

a) Still register culturally

b) Isn't so acutely interested in inspiring that they’re playing the “inspire music” after twenty minutes

c) Actually showcase a sport at the center of a film

d) Bring me to (honest) tears or make me laugh or both

e) Push me to go play that sport, or work on something I'm passionate about.

f) It MUST be a Vacation Spot, a place you can go back and watch and be all inspired again.

In keeping with the theme of this website, here are my other guidelines in choosing my Top Seven.

Guideline #1: Recency bias. I’m 42, which means some of the sports films were shot before I was born. (The Pride of the Yankees, Brian’s Song) That doesn’t necessarily preclude them from making the list, but I was less apt to include them.

Guideline #2: The avoidance of overly treacly or saccharine sports movies that seemed too interested in getting me to cry. Hey, I’m watching a sports movie. I want to be a) entertained and b) genuinely inspired. If I want to cry for the sake of crying, I can watch one of those Tom Hanks movies from the nineties or put on the news or chop some onions.

Guideline #3: No documentaries. Hoop Dreams is an extraordinary documentary, but it doesn’t make the list. A movie based on a true story is acceptable, but I’m only interested in fiction. No video memoirs.

Guideline #4: The Raging Bull Rule. Every list you see of top sports movies includes Raging Bull, which makes sense. It’s probably one of our greatest film director’s best movies, perhaps his best (Scorsese), De Niro is amazing, and it’s a boxing movie. However, nobody watches Raging Bull twice.

(Okay, nobody with an ‘F,’ in their Myers-Briggs personality test watches it twice. If you’re a ‘T,’ you process your entertainment intellectually, which means you can appreciate the technical genius of the film. If you’re not sure what I’m talking about, go to this site and take the test. It’s enlightening.)

So then, three things. Raging Bull is a brilliant and disturbing film. Raging Bull is the story of Jake LaMotta, who was an abusive, arrogant piece of human dirt and since the movie is working from his autobiography, understates just how terrible a human he was. Raging Bull is depressing as hell. So no, it didn’t make my list. Raging Bull does not inspire a Kind Life. (The literary equivalent would be Fall On Your Knees by Ann-Marie McDonald, a wonderful novel that will cause you take to take a ballpeen hammer to head… and never, ever read it again even as you recommend it to others.)

So you got all that? Okay, on to the ‘close but no cigar’ list.

FILMS THAT DIDN'T MAKE THE CUT

(What? You didn’t think I’d just drop the list on you, did you? Just scroll down if you’re impatient.)

Here are a list of the contenders, names that I’ve seen on other lists, that didn’t make the list.

A League of Their Own – My Favourite Geena Davis role of all time. Tom Hanks, brilliant. Not one you want to re-watch though, and while it entertains you, there’s no inspiration here.

Remember the Titans – Too much self-awareness. It knows that it is a VERY IMPORTANT film and never lets you forget. That self-awareness means the ending didn’t do much for me. I was aware that I was watching a CULTURAL MOMENT, and Denzel, who we all love, wasn’t allowed to “full” Denzel because, well, it was a Disney movie.

Caddyshack – This isn’t a sports movie. Stop putting on your list people. And oh yeah, GO GOPHER!

Million Dollar Baby – Wow. This movie was so good, right until the ending. Doesn’t make it due to the Ragin Bull rule. (Man, Eastwood may be a laugh on the set, but his movies are such downers. Dude needs to lighten up. Come with this website.)

Jerry Maguire –All-time sham that Cruise didn’t win an Academy award this role. I almost put this one on the list. It has the climactic moment, Renee Zellwegger when you could still recognize her, lots of humour, and is pretty re-watchable. However, “you complete me” and everything about the end of this film lets us know that it’s a romance in disguise. Nothing wrong with that, but not good for this list.

Chariots of Fire – Wonderful story, brilliant score by Vandelis, well-acted, but just a bit too precious for me.

Breaking Away – From what I hear, it’s a great movie. I’ve never seen it, so it doesn’t make the list.

42 – I loved this film. Let’s wait a few years and see how it sticks.

The Natural – If they’d followed the book (a fantastic novel by Pulitzer Prize winner Bernard Malamud) Redford would have struck out in his last at-bat, so that great scene, with the lights exploding and cascading down like fireworks, never would have happened and I would have had to leave it off the list based on the Raging Bull Rule. As it is, if I extended this list to a Top 10, The Natural makes it. Therei isn't anything that isn't great about The Natural, and any sports movie with Wilford Brimley being Wilford Brimley deserves its accolades.

Tin Cup – Hardest to leave off the list. Kevin Costner doing a sports movie is always a Good Thing, and he’s even better when he plays quirky characters. This movie is eminently re-watchable, hilarious, and that last moment when the ball finally crosses the pond and sticks is an all-time killer.

(For those of you who scrolled down to see the Top 7, before you start yelling at me because a certain movie didn’t make the cut, scroll back up and read why. Or, just throw your vitriol in the comments below.)

7. Cinderella Man – Boxing and baseball are two of the most cinematic sports (along with golf) and the ones we have most deeply mythologized over the past century. And Cinderella Man fits that narrative as the anti-Raging Bull. Based on a true story, James J. Braddock was a fighter on the verge who ended up in the poor houses before rising one more time to become champion. Russell Crowe’s Braddock is a man with a good heart, a man who just wants to support his wife and kids as the Depression sweeps across the country. After so many anti-heroes, I appreciate a film that has a humble athlete, a good person, which by all accounts, Braddock was. Zellwegger and Crowe are both terrific here, the boxing scenes are convincing, and by the time the end credits roll, you feel a bit lighter than you did before the film started. Great "Sports Movie." 

6. Field of Dreams – “Hey… Dad? Wanna have a catch?” is one of the all-time tear jerker scenes in great sports movies. And as much as Field of Dreams is a baseball fairy tale, thanks to the grounded work by Kevin Costner (sorry, he’s fantastic as an Everyman), and Amy Madigan, the film keeps it feet firmly on the ground even as it reaches for the stars. Beautiful, and in this rare case, better than the book. (Shoeless Joe by W.P. Kinsella)

5. Rudy – The quintessential inspirational sports film about a “five foot nothin’, a hundred and nothin’” Daniel “Rudy” Ruettiger, who managed to earn a place on the legendary Notre Dame football practice squad and then the field for a single game his senior year in the mid-seventies. There are reasons why people don’t like this movie. One, it has a touch of narcissism to it, Rudy’s single-minded individualism can be annoying from a certain perspective. Two, it’s been hacked to pieces by a number of satirical skits and movies. Three, it can be cloyingly “American Dream-ish,” and if you’re Canadian, like me (where we tear down our heroes) it can rub you the wrong way.

HOWEVER, I’m a dreamer. (I’m a writer, we’re all dreamers.) I challenge you to watch it again. Listen to the people telling Rudy he’s an idiot for following his dreams, listen to how they’re really trying to help him. Sound familiar? Us dreamers hear that all the time. But the movie doesn’t hate his father or anyone else who tells him he’s being foolish any more than our parents tell us we need job security. Watch the performance by Charles S. Dutton, and how his cynicism has honed into wisdom, and yet, his character still leaves room for being inspired. Sean Astin plays Rudy as being so earnest as to be on the edge of annoying, but the “want” is there in such a big way, it’s impossible not to cheer for him.

There was a time in my life when things were going nowhere. I was a struggling writer (well, that part is still somewhat true), just divorced, with only a handful of dreams and unwilling to give them up for a “practical” career that I hated. Back then, Rudy was my Vacation Spot. This is the movie I turned to, so if seems like I’m biased, well, of course I am.

The greatest scene in this movie isn’t the climactic moment when the players give up their jerseys or when he rushes onto the field or when he sacks the Georgia Tech quarterback. The greatest moment is when Rudy opens the acceptance letter down by the river and sobs softly to himself when he realizes that he’s been admitted into Notre Dame. That is a gut punch for me every time, because that’s EXACTLY the right emotional response. For something that important, you don't whoop it up. It's relief and joy and exhaustion, all rolled into one. They don’t drag the scene out, either. It’s masterfully acted and filmed, and twenty years after its initial release, the movie remains a hammer.

4. Rocky – Before Stallone became a caricature of himself, the dude could really write, and he could really act. (Or play himself, but whatever) I wasn’t aware that Rocky was based on a true story the first few times I watched it, but it doesn’t matter. The end result is a boxing film that plays on the mythology of the underdog, and instead of offering us treacly nonsense, gives us complicated relationships, very few cardboard characters (Paulie, anyone?), and a very plain Talia Shire.(Who was truly beautiful.)

The film was shot on a budget of $25,000 (Yeah, I’m looking at you, Transformer Blockbuster Toy Movie Garbage) and if you watch it enough, Stallone never looks like he’s close to getting hit in the ring. But between the great theme music, the slow, building pace, and the kick that offers not a “Championship,” but an “I Earned Respect” moment, Rocky still wins thirty years later. Awesome.

3. Major League – The funniest mainstream sports movie of all-time. Period. Major League, featuring a young (and still normal) Charlie Sheen, an in his prime Tom Berenger, Wesley Snipes in his best role, Rene Russo being, well, Rene Russo and giving the movie some heft in what could have been a throwaway role, and of course, the late, great James Gammon as Lou Brown.

I can watch this three or four times a year, and feel great every time. It might seem odd to place a straight comedy so high on the list, but name another that’s had this kind of staying power. (And no, Caddyshack is no longer funny. Why do people like that movie so much?) If you haven’t seen this one in a while and want to spend a couple of hours smiling, watch it again.

2. Bull Durham – Kevin Costner in his best role. Susan Sarandon not being too annoying. Tim Robbins the perfectly clueless and un-self-aware Kid with the Big Arm. And the writing, did I mention the writing? Ron Shelton, the screenwriter, played in the minor leagues, and he gets all the small touches right here. (Listen to the PA announcer in the background. Perfect.) And if you grew up playing the game, there’s nothing better than a sports movie that gets the damn sport right.

There are moments where you wish they’d focus less on Annie Savoy, but for her part, Sarandon gives what’s really a “groupie” character an almost regal bearing. In her world, in her town, she is not just another horny older woman going after young athletes, she’s a queen, respected by both the players and managers. (That probably would never happen in real life, but she pulls it off so succinctly that we buy it. And her.)

I memorized Crash Davis’ speech in high school, the one when he tells Annie what he believes. (I can still recite it), but for my money the best scene in the movie is the "cocksucker" scene, the one where Crash gets thrown out of the game. (It’s here, and it’s brilliant and hilarious.) There’s a soulfulness to this movie that, to me, is unique to baseball and the solitary challenge it represents within a team sport. It’s the best baseball movie ever made, and for my money, the second best Sports Movie of all-time.

AND THE NUMBER ONE SPORTS MOVIE IS...

#1. Hoosiers – No other sports movie captures the American mythology of sport and life quite like Hoosiers. No other sports movie hits every single underdog cliché like Hoosiers. And no other movie character or Indiana basketball legend ever inspired a legion of suburban white kids playing an urban sport to pick up a ball and shoot hoops like Jimmy Chitwood. (Uh, wait) And yet, AND YET, the movie never hits a false note. Never. It’s remarkable and such an achievement that when I watched the film again last year, I was shocked how well it still plays.

The key to the film, which is loosely based on the Milan high school basketball team that won the State championship before Indiana separated schools according to size, is Gene Hackman’s performance. He’s riveting here, grinding out a second chance to coach in a place like Hickory. We learn about his past, but by the time we realize why he’s coaching in a backwoods town like Hickory, we don’t care.

Some people might suggest that the romance between Norman Dale and Myra Fleener (Barbara Hershey) is played too quickly. But think back to those times. Was it? I don’t think so, and I liked the way they kept the team and the sport in the forefront. This isn’t a romantic sports drama. This is a Sports Movie.

As for the basketball, what’s not to like. As a coach, I still use some of Hackman’s well-worn truisms (“Five men functioning as one single unit, no one player greater than another”) with my teams. I use them because I believe in them. Just as Hackman’s character believed in them, just as he believed in his boys.

Feel like being inspired? Get a copy of Hoosiers, watch the Greatest Sports Movie of All-Time, and see if you don’t still believe. 

  

-Steve

NOTE: Disagree? Did I miss one? Throw it in the comments!

42 (Movie Review)

The sun blistered down from the afternoon sky. Sweat rolled down my forehead as I adjusted my cap, my feet spread and balanced beneath me. The trapper was heavier than the catcher’s mitt I usually wore, but I was only in Grade 8, my first year in a league that included high school seniors. First base was the only position available, and like any good coach’s son, I played where I was needed. It didn’t make me any less nervous. I’d be catching throws from our seventeen year old shortstop, Tim, who had a cannon for an arm. Just breathe, I told myself. You can do this. For the first three innings, I caught every throw on the grounders, and while I tried to make each play look casual – I just had to catch the ball, something I’d done since I was five – I still hadn’t relaxed.

With two outs in the fourth inning, one of the opposing team’s older players hit a rocket headed to right field. I dove to my left, and to my utter surprise, I caught it. I stared at my glove even as my teammates cheered and patted me on the back, the older players nodding in approval. I was still looking at my glove when I got to the bench.

Mr. Lesco, one of my coaches, smiled. “Nice catch, Steve. But remember, Mattingly doesn’t look at the glove.”

I nodded. I understood what he was saying. You belong here, now act like it. Don't look at your glove. I felt my shoulders loosen, and when my teammate stepped to the plate, I joined in with the other boys, excited, but no longer nervous. It was just baseball, a sport I’d played and followed since I was a child. It was a different league, but the game was the same.

Willie Mays

I remember the first time I saw Willie Mays play. I was ten years old, and the grainy, black and white footage of his famous over the shoulder catch against Cleveland in the 1954 World Series enraptured me. As a kid, I’d been regaled by tales from my father of those glory days of baseball, back when he was a young man and the world was changing. Changing so much that even he didn’t realize it. Didn’t realize what it would mean for his son. For most of my childhood, I pressed my dad for stories and read whatever I could get my hands on. Stories of the Yankees and Brooklyn Dodgers and New York Giants. Willie Mays played his last professional game when I was a baby, but well into high school, he remained my favourite player. A black man, idolized by a white boy, twenty years after he retired.

This would have been impossible when my dad was a kid. Or nearly so. When Mays broke into the major leagues as a rookie in 1951, it’d only been four years since Jackie Robinson had obliterated the colour barrier, a wall so thick it had seemed impregnable only a year earlier. Blacks playing with whites. A black athlete competing with the best Caucasian players in the world. Jesse Owens had shown a prejudiced world in 1936 what a black athlete could do, but where I came from, baseball was more important than the Olympics. Baseball was every day. Baseball was oatmeal for breakfast, girls learning to be ladies and Father Knows Best. Baseball got it right.

Before Susan Sarandon ever uttered her belief in the “church of baseball,” I believed in it, too. As a boy, the first stories I ever wrote were of Ted Williams and Mickey Mantle and of course, the, ‘Say Hey’ Kid. In my stories, I turned them into heroes off the field, saving innocent people from fires and hunting down criminals. I basked in the warm glow of sports mythology, none of which shone quite as brightly as my favourite sport. Books like Roger Kahn’s classic, The Boys of Summer, only fed my appetite for tales of the Great Ones.

When I was seventeen, my dad and I went with Mr. Lesco and his son, Josh (my best friend) to see Field of Dreams. When the movie was over, my old coach leaned over and asked me what mistake they’d made in the film. I answered without hesitation. Shoeless Joe Jackson was left handed. In the movie, Ray Liotta had played him as a righty both in the field and at the plate. He’d smiled, nodding in approval. A seventeen year old shouldn't have known those kinds of things about baseball, not about a player who’d played his last game around the end of World War I. From the time I was ten, however, something about the game made me want to be better. I didn't know it then, but baseball was, and had always been, the perfect vehicle of change for a culture redefining itself. That it was mythical didn’t make it untrue. It just meant that it had room for heroes. And when it came to heroes, no one was bigger than Jackie Robinson.

42

Fifty seven years have passed since his first game with Brooklyn, and his story now casts such a large shadow that in some ways it obliterates just how special he was, how much he endured, and how he not only saved the game itself, but forced the culture around it to shift. Shifts that still reverberate decades later. For an artist to interpret that type of story, one as powerful and mythic as Robinson’s, it requires a uniquely steady and sensitive hand. One that can fashion drama around a story that has been told and re-told, without removing the inspiration of the story itself. That is a daunting task for any film maker, and if you read the critic’s reviews of “42” when it appeared in theatres a year ago, many of them suggested that the film was “earnest and inspirational,” but “too safe and old-fashioned.”

Nonsense. In time, 42 will enter the cannon of films that extend the mythos of sports stories beyond the box score, the ones that highlight the search for human dignity and the fight for something more, a fight reflected in every civilization throughout history. The only thing “old-fashioned” about the film is that it presents the ruthlessness of racism while pushing us towards something better. It allows us to confront our demons without causing us to cover our eyes. It pushes us away, then pulls us back and asks us what we truly believe.

There are times the film underplays the abuse Robinson suffered, aside from one scene with a particularly loathsome Philadelphia manager, but director Brian Helgeland keeps the lens centered on a racist culture, if only in the background. (The seeming ubiquity of a bathroom door with ‘Whites’ on it is particularly galling. And to think this was only fifty years ago.) And too often for my liking, the movie tilts towards “The Help” territory, powerful whites helping blacks. Harrison Ford gives an inspiring, growly impression as Branch Rickey, the Dodger owner who made it his legacy to integrate the game, and his performance includes moments of genuine humour. (“Robinson’s a Methodist. I’m a Methodist. God’s a Methodist.”) Unfortunately, there are times when the movie feels it’s as much about Rickey as it is Robinson.

Those are minor criticisms. Boseman is excellent here, and as so much of the film is about the players and culture responding to him, he is less the driving force of the movie and more the anchor. He gives Robinson a steady stoicism and athletic grace on the field. Off the field, however, he allows us to see Jackie’s inner joy with his wife, and his smile lights up the screen with warmth and charisma. Helgeland, who also wrote the film and is white, writes with purpose and sensitivity. He reveals that much of our bigotry, by seemingly decent people, stems from never having to confront how we feel about certain aspects of our culture. That sometimes change occurs only when we are faced with extreme views of those beliefs.

We are all raised to believe certain things. We believe them because of our parents, our church, our teachers and coaches and everyone else who aided in our shaping. And too often, we move through our adult life without ever questioning those beliefs, those beginnings, even when they’re clearly wrong.

Here, the non-racist players are forced to confront how they really feel by their more adamantly bigoted teammates, the ones who circle a petition to have Robinson booted from the team. When the Philadelphia manager (played here with alarming force by Helgeland alum, Alan Tudyk) starts in on Robinson, the camera pans to the dugout, where some of the players, the ones who signed the petition, recoil in disgust. This is the moment they decide. Are black people human? Are they equal? Most people think we get a lifetime to make those choices, but we don’t. Life is a fast flowing river, and once we make a decision like that, we’re more apt to justify it than challenge it again.

PeeWee Reese, the Hall of Fame shortstop, helps the fans of Cincinnati hollering at Robinson come to that place by placing his arm around his new teammate at the beginning of a game. When he slaps Robinson on the shoulder and says “maybe one day, we’ll all wear your jersey,” my eyes welled up. The line is a Helgeland addition that works like one of Spike Lee’s signature visuals, pulling us briefly from the story. (It’s a nod to baseball’s new yearly tradition to choose one game in April where every player in both leagues wears Robinson’s number.)

Pulling a moviegoer out of a story is dangerous, and it must be done surgically to work properly. But even as that line slammed me back into the present, I quivered under a wave of inspiration.

We do so many damn things wrong as humans, we screw up so many times that sometimes it’s all you can do to pull your blanket over your head at our race’s incessant cruelty and ignorance. And then there are these other moments, the ones that whisper to our ability to be better, to stand beside our black teammate in the face of a white crowd, a racist white culture, and say “the hell with it. I can be better. We can be better.”

More, it’s people like Robinson, (who some will insist I am canonizing here, which I will not apologize for) who, simply by being willing to stand up for themselves in the face of great adversity, and yes, great evil, remind us that human dignity is not something cheap. That it can’t be bought or plagiarized by the next generation. That it is something we must never lose sight of, if only because of our very human tendency to exclude those who are different from us, those with whom we are unfamiliar.

The movie deals delicately with these ideas, grounding them in the players’ slow adjustment to Robinson. Bit by bit, some of them begin to see what they truly believed, begin to see the inhumanity of it and what they’ll believe in the future.

When Robinson accepts his owner’s challenge to “be tough enough not to fight back”, we’re shown how his frustration occasionally boils over, but it is only because of what he must endure. We never get the idea that Number 42 is out of place in the white league. That he feels he doesn’t belong. And by the time he hits the home run against the Pirates and glides along the bases in slow motion, we realize that he’s right. It was never about him. We didn’t know it until he showed us, but all this time it was us. We were the ones looking at our glove.

***** Highly recommended.

-Steve

NOTE: This blog is dedicated to my amazing father, Don Burns, who coached (and acted as commissioner) for Welland Minor Baseball for 35 years (and who coached me most of my life). I still remember the time he used to spend on the phone calling players and planning his practices. Our basement was inevitably crowded with baseball equipment, and to this day, I still love that smell. 

I'd also like to dedicate this to Mr. (Don) Lesco, my former coach and high school English teacher who was beloved by his players (including me)and inspired students for generations. 

And for all of you who take the time to volunteer as coaches, I want to say 'thank you,' the world is a kinder place because of you. The kids may not understand now the sacrifices that you make for them, but they will, and they'll never forget it.    

 

My dad and I celebrating his 72nd birthday.

Tim Tebow: Better Than Fiction

I’ve often been asked how I create my fictional characters. (I’ve written three novels, but as I have yet to be published, take my answers with a box of salt.) Well, the process is different for every writer. Some start with a situation, some “meet” their characters unexpectedly in their minds, and then there are others who (eek!)simply pick out characteristics from a chart. For me, the process is both organic and situational. However a writer gets there, the one thing that all good characters share is some sort of flaw or contradiction, an internal or external weakness they are trying to overcome. These ‘failures’ are what help us identify with them, and once an audience identifies with a character, that’s when the magic happens. When a story becomes more than a story. With a guide that we can KNOW, we are taken to new worlds and given new experiences. We are challenged both in what we believe and who we are because we are no longer ourselves. For a time, we become someone else, and through that experience every notion of what reality means, what life means, is given a new lens.

It’s interesting to note here that according to most studies, there’s no difference between real or fictional characters in their ability to model for us or meet the mimetic needs of our race. Your model may be your teacher or it may be Xena (I’d choose Xena, of course), but both can dramatically affect who we are and who we strive to become. But the most powerful fictional character is not one we find in the movies or in books, it’s the person, the real person, who somehow manages to become surpass reality and become something more. Over the course of the past three months, Tim Tebow has done just that.

At first, Tebow seems too bland to be a good character for anything but those droopy romances. He’s white, well built and good looking. He’s devout and kind and the child of missionary parents. He’s also successful, winning multiple championships and decorated as one of the greatest college players of all time. Right away, you can’t escape the feeling that he’s been drawn from a chart, and not very well. As popular as Tebow was in college, he was largely just another athlete. It wasn’t until we discovered his “flaw” that his popularity began to rise. As it turns out, his failure was the arm motion he used to throw the football, the same motion that had produced his success and popularity. By the time the NFL draft rolled around, most experts predicted his failure, and when he was drafted in the first round, the decision was met with a chorus of eye rolls. “Impossible for him to compete with that throwing motion.” “He takes too long to get rid of the ball.” “He throws ducks, not spirals.”

That’s when his possibilities as a great character began to show. Denver, the team that drafted him, buried him on the bench and then fired the coach who had “reached” for him in the draft. Now offstage, fans began to lobby for him. “What happened to Tebow?” “Where did he go?” The past success of their current starting quarterback didn’t matter, and when Denver started the year with one win in the first five games, the new head coach grudgingly gave the ball to Tebow. In that game, he played terribly, but somehow managed to lead the Broncos to victory. Week after week he led his team to improbable, last minute wins. A lame, predictable script if drawn for fiction, but as this was real life, the story took on a whole new significance.

Perhaps if Tebow had kept winning into the playoffs, the story would have died, or at least, diminished in some way. Instead, the developing of his character continued, and Tebow started losing. Not just lose, but look, at times, like one of the worst quarterbacks ever to pull on an NFL jersey. His demise was once again predicted and predictable. He was mocked as much as he was saluted. And then, as with a well told fable, he produced his greatest NFL game to date, leading his team to a spectacular playoff victory in overtime with his team an overwhelming underdog.

(The Tebow story is a classic “W” plot found in most fiction. Hero goes through crisis, but things begin to change and they have success. Something happens and they start to fail again before rising up again to even greater glory.)

There are other elements to the Tebow character that have caused TV sets to hum and churn to record numbers. Increased exposure to his extreme religiosity, his stated “sexual purity”, the continued doubting of his ability by experts, the politicized environment of his chosen religious expression. For my money though, the most compelling aspect of “Tim Tebow the character”, is his un-self-consciousness. He doesn’t dwell on who he is as a character, unlike many professional athletes who understand the basics of mythmaking (or just suffer from extreme vanity) and address themselves in the third person. Every sportswriter who’s covered Tebow says the same thing. What you see is what you get. He’s a good kid. He treats people well. He’s trying to make a difference.

This could all change, of course. Protracted losing, a sense of entitlement, a change in his behavior and expectations. (I have my own nightmare of his political involvement twenty years from now, where he is used by lobbyists and politicians more interested in guns and business than helping others.) Unlike fictional characters, whose stories are drawn and complete, Tim Tebow’s story is as yet unfinished. Just like us. But for now he remains a growing iconic figure, referenced in presidential debates, mocked and loved by diehard fans and casual observers who know nothing about him or the game that has made him famous. Like many great fictional characters, many of them don’t understand why he’s so popular or how he came to be, they only know he exists.

Tebow’s story is the most compelling to cross the sports sections of our dailies in a long time. The irony is that if he were one of my characters, he’d be seen as unbelievable. And in this, we have our final lesson. The greatest fictional characters are those who already exist. I would never have created a character like Tebow, but there’s a reason he’s so compelling. It’s the same reason I’ll be cheering for him every time he takes the field and will continue to cheer for him in the future. That is, so long as his character remains the same.

-Steve

LeBron: The Story behind the Story (Part I)

The sun had not yet sunk to the horizon as I headed south down Highway 6. Every fifty kilometers or so I drove through another sleepy town, and with the windows down, listened to the summer hum of insects. This was the night LeBron made his decision. Alone on the highway, I tuned the radio to WGR out of Buffalo, listened to it cackle and then catch. I wasn't sure what to expect, but if I'd been betting, my money was that he would stay in Cleveland. I hoped not. Whether it was the Bulls or the Heat, it would give me something to look forward to in the upcoming season, seeing as how our star, Chris Bosh, had already twittered his way to Miami.

The land north of Guelph consisted mostly of farms, and in the last of the fading light I could see the dark shapes of horses and cows grazing along the rolling hills, the land's gentle syncopation a startling contrast from the hue and cry of Toronto. It was a welcome break. The ESPN announcers were still waiting for LeBron to make his appearance twenty minutes later as I approached Guelph. The station cackled with static and broke off just as LeBron started to make his announcement. I grimaced in frustration. I'm missing the moment! About three minutes later the station broke back just as LeBron said "I'll be taking my talents to South Beach." I pounded my steering wheel in jubilation, and hollered at nobody out the window. LeBron. Dwayne Wade. Chris Bosh. Now THAT would be a fun troika to watch. Maybe it would give the league something to celebrate aside than the Celtics and Lakers. What intrigued me even more than the decision, which in my mind had played out as a great drama, were two things. The first, of course, was what story were the sportswriters going to write. The second was what it meant for the general public. Many people didn't realize it, but both questions had implications for the culture, including the non-basketball/non-sports fan. LeBron was more than an athlete, he was a celebrity capable of rippling the culture. It was the ripples that interested me.

***

The Story Behind the Story

"I'm cheering for my story."

Ask most sports writers who they're cheering for when it comes to covering players and teams, and that's the response you'll get. As someone who has spent more time writing fiction than non-fiction, I can tell you that sports writing uses more narrative than any other part of the newspaper, and most of the best work has its roots in myth making. One need only look at baseball, the relationship between it and one of its prevalent themes of father and son. (Explored beautifully in Field of Dreams) More than mere accounts of games played between adults, sportswriting offers a peek into a different world, a world that is often more fantasy than reality, a world created to offer us help and hope in our everyday lives. (And yes, my cynical friends, to get our money) When we understand it this way, we realize that basketball is not merely a game, which is why LeBron's decision wasn't – according to the sportswriters – a basketball decision. Although he spoke of playing (which means working) with his friends, Wade and Bosh, and winning championships, which is the ultimate goal for his type of employment, nobody believed him. Why would they? Reading a cross section of literally hundreds of reactions throughout North America from sports writers across the country, the unfailing tone of the articles was disappointment. Disappointment with how LeBron handled the situation, disappointment with his apparent ego, disappointment that he had chosen "the easy way", disappointment that a two time MVP switched teams to "create an all-star team". The only place where the disappointment made any real sense was for Cleveland fans, some of whom were seen soon after burning his jersey in effigy.

From a 'realism' standpoint, the response to LeBron's decision (and everything it included, like the hour long special to announce it) is ridiculous. That people would burn an athlete's jersey reveals just how well the sports writers have done their job the past hundred years in creating a mythological narrative to encase athletes. Their exploits are told and retold, as it was surely done in civilizations past, as a story around a fire. The myth story behind LeBron -- hometown kid from a poor home, perhaps the greatest of all time, leading his beleaguered, working class city to its first championship in nearly forty years -- was a powerful one. For seven years LeBron worked to bring that myth to its telling finale, but fell short. Instead of buying into his own myth however, LeBron changed the rules, and opted out of the narrative to play with his friends for a better shot at a championship.

"Not a leader." "Cowardly." "LeBron blew it!"

Those were the headlines the next day, and it seemed to me that most of the sports writers had made their decision. LeBron had gone from the hero to the villain, the greedy (though he took less money) and arrogant (his own show!) young superstar who preferred the rich, flashy night life of Miami to the good, hard working people of Cleveland. I understood their perspective. What choice did they have? They'd framed the story of the hometown hero for so long, spent so many years building a heroic narrative, there wasn't much else they could write, could they? It shocked me a bit how people accepted this verbatim, but sports have long since served as more than mere games in our culture. I remember the stories my dad used to tell me about the grace of Willie Mays and watching Mickey Mantle hit. Or how Roger Staubach would lead his Cowboys back from certain defeat. I remember how eagerly I read books and stories about my favourite athletes as a kid, how I'd get together with my friends and we'd all take turns being Ozzie Smith or Walter Payton or Larry Bird. In the shadow of these great narratives, of growing up and learning about life, the posters on my wall were about something bigger than the game or even my favourite player. They weren't true, necessarily, not in the strictest sense. But that didn't make them any less real or affecting, especially to a kid growing up in Welland, a small blue collar town just north of the American border.

So while I understand the "disappointment", most of it seems disingenuous to me. Sportswriters understand myth and story, and they do their jobs much the way anyone does their job. There's no mystique for them in the people they write about, although occasionally there is admiration. They're too close, for one thing. They see the humanity of the players, their selfishness and arrogance, their usual human foibles, on a regular basis. It's hard to hold someone up on a pedestal when you realize that they're a lot like you.

And yet, only a few mentioned, for example, that four years ago Kobe Bryant lost nearly all of his sponsors when he was accused of rape (later settling with his accuser) and lost in the first round of the playoffs to Phoenix. That narrative has long since changed again (aided mostly when Jerry West stole Pau Gasol and gave Bryant another stud to play with. Not that you'll hear anything about that, because Kobe "stayed" in L.A.) This season, the writers went with the "Kobe finds a way" narrative, including game seven when Bryant was nearly invisible for most of the fourth quarter.

While I still enjoy sports narrative and the occasional dabbling into myth (go John Feinstein) we need to realize that LeBron is not a villain. For an NBA superstar, he is remarkably well grounded and an unselfish player who puts his team first. Yes, he has an ego. So did Jordan. (As did Bird, Magic, Shaq, and Kobe) If Miami wins multiple championships, the LeBron narrative will change again, as it did for Bryant. As it always does. What it does however, is serve as a stark reminder to be careful in how we create our lives and build our own stories. Myth making is not merely for celebrities, but for us too. How we interpret the events of our culture are just as important as the events themselves. Does the LeBron decision truly impact our culture that much? Even for people who don't follow sports? I think it does, but I'll leave that for you to decide.

Stay tuned for Part II…

-Steve