Be True To Your School

It's T-minus five days until I begin my road trip from New York to the Bay Area, where I'll be starting graduate school this fall.  One of the most common questions I get asked is "Are you going to become a Stanford sports fan, or keep Princeton as your college team?"  It's come up so often that I figured I'd address it here on Caught Looking.

I've been waiting for a major college sports program to root for my entire life.  I grew up on Long Island, an area devoid of big time college football (although Hofstra did have former New York Jet Wayne Chrebet and current New Orleans Saint Marques Colston at one point) or basketball (rooting for St. John's hoops is more painful than rooting for the New York Knicks, if you can believe it).  In college I became a big I-AA (or FCS, as it's now known) football fan and an even bigger Ivy League basketball fan, but I've always admitted that Princeton athletics lack the atmosphere and passion that BCS conference schools possess.  Now, by chance, I'm headed to Stanford, a school full of sports tradition and right in the middle of a wide open Pac-10 football and basketball race.

The perfect opportunity to convert from small time Ivy League sports to big time Pac-10 athletics, right?  Well, not exactly.  While I'm definitely going to become a fan of the Stanford Cardinal and plan on attending some football and basketball games this fall, I'll never care about Stanford the way I'll always root for Princeton.  I think it's definitely okay to adopt your grad school as your secondary team, but you always have to stand by your undergrad squads.  While it might be tempting to abandon the Tigers for the bright lights of the Pac-10, I would never consider doing it.     

While I'm excited to be a part of Pac-10 sports, the Tigers will always be my first love.

Within the Pac-10 (and all of FBS football, for that matter), I'll be happy to don the cardinal red and cheer for Stanford.  But in basketball, where the Tigers and Cardinal could conceivably compete, I'll never give up on my alma mater.  When Princeton (a 13-seed) and Stanford (a surprise 4-seed as Pac-10 champions) meet in the first round of the 2011 NCAA Tournament, I'll be in the stands decked out in the orange and black. 

Forty Million Dollar Slaves: A Review

In addition to watching tons of live sports on TV, I also read a lot of non-fiction books about athletics.  My bookshelves are filled with sports autobiographies that I started reading when I was a kid and have continued to collect, highlighted by classics like Jim Bouton's Ball Four and Bill Veeck's Veeck as in Wreck.  When I got older I began reading about sports statistics and finance, starting with Michael Lewis's Moneyball.  Most recently I've become interested in the social side of athletics, which got me particularly excited to read William C. Rhoden's Forty Million Dollar Slaves: The Rise, Fall and Redemption of the Black Athlete. 

I'm not going to sugarcoat my review; I thought Rhoden's work was simply awful.  From a literary standpoint, I found his style of writing to be overly simplistic, giving off a tone of superiority that irked me right off the bat.  I'm only slightly familiar with Rhoden's writing in the New York Times, but reading this book definitely made me glad that I didn't waste more of my time following his journalitic pursuits.  The book was filled with odd and disjointed one-sentence paragraphs, long phrases that seemed to be repeated word-for-word in every chapter, and rhetorical questions that, to use a sports expression, came completely out of left field.  Given that I was reading this book for my bookclub - where we normally make excellent suggestions and had just come off reading Kevin Baker's Dreamland which, while not a sports book, was fantastic - I was especially disappointed.

That being said, I've read enough sports books to know that the writing's not always strong (though Rhoden's supposed to be some sort of award winning journalist, so I expected a lot more . . .).  What really upset me with Forty Million Dollar Slaves were the arguments, or lack thereoff, that the author made in favor of better treatment of black athletes in modern sports.  Rhoden essentially asserts that, although black athletes are extremely well paid, the lack of a strong African American presence in management and ownership shows that blacks are still being exploited by their rich white "masters" and are really nothing more than well-paid slaves.  At the same time, Rhoden argues that blacks have a social responsibility to give back to their community, and that an African American who makes something of himself as a professional athlete is worth nothing to the black community unless he gives most of it back to the neighborhood from which he came.

Looking for an awful book?  Check out William C. Rhoden's Forty Million Dollar Slaves.

What is the main point of Rhoden's book, you ask?  You've got me - I have absolutely no idea, even though I spent a fews days and a long flight reading through this thing.  Rhoden comes off as angry; angry at white ownership and management for playing black athletes but not giving them teams to run and own, angry at black athletes for being successful and living out the American dream of earning a lavish lifestyle, and angry at black athletic icons such as Jackie Robinson and Michael Jordan for acting as mere pawns in white-owned sports and refusing to rebel against the teams that gave them their opportunities to become stars.  Basically the only character praised is Rube Foster, the founder of the Negro Leagues, which lead me to wonder if Rhoden is suggesting the re-segregation of professional sports.

Overall, it seems like Rhoden's frustration with sports got in the way of clear and concise arguments;  Rhoden frequently mentions his time as a football player at Morgan State, a Historically Black University whose athletic program was stripped bare when larger universities began to integrate, so perhaps he's bitter that his alma mater can no longer compete with other national football powerhouses.  As a sports fan who roots for white and black athletes equally, the book came off as petty, like the rants of a child who may know what he wants but can't articulate his desires because they're masked by his frustration.  If you're ever looking for a great sports book to read, let me know; I've got tons of good recommendations.  Whatever you do, though, don't read Forty Million Dollar Slaves.

Excited for a New Challenge (Again)

Welcome back loyal readers!  After a fantastic two weeks exploring Peru (hence the Caught Looking hiatus), I'm back in the States and have mentally shifted into "preparing to move back to the West Coast" mode.  There's certainly a lot I have to do before I start my drive out to California in the beginning of September - pack all of my stuff into a small two-door coupe, get a cell phone that doesn't look like it was featured in an early episode of Seinfeld, transfer all of my Kid Rock and Anthrax music onto my new laptop, and more.  As usual, though, I've been distracted from my moving-related duties by sports.

Moving across the country is always a big adjustment, and while I'll miss the people on the East Coast (some a lot, some just a little . . .), I don't think I'll really miss being a New York sports fan living in New York.  I love arguing about sports, and find living away from your favorite teams to be a blessing in disguise.  Growing up on Long Island I always pulled for three New York-area teams (Islanders, Knicks and Giants) in addition to my beloved Atlanta Braves, and while the Braves have been the most difficult to follow, they're also the most rewarding.  Remaining a Braves fan over the last two decades while living predominantly in Yankees and Mets territory (and, in college, temporarily on the border of Phillies territory) has made me a better fan.  It's forced me to know everything about not only the Braves, but also about their enemies, too.  It's been kind of nice to have been surrounded by fellow Knicks and Giants fans while living in New York over the past two-plus years (and I've even become a semi-devoted New York Libery fan while living here), but I'm excited to sacrifice that comraderie for the chance to root for and defend my teams from afar.

This won't be the first time I've followed a bunch of East Coast teams while living in California; from 2005 to 2008, I lived in Los Angeles and played the role of contrarian New York sports fan to perfection (the Giants Super Bowl victory was the highlight of my masterful performance, of course).  I missed being able to bond with fellow Braves, Giants, Knicks and Isles fans, and definitely felt like an outsider at Clippers, Dodgers and Kings games.  It wasn't easy following my teams, either; most of their games started around 4PM Pacific Time, forcing me to constantly check scores online at work.  To top it all off, people made fun of the way I sounded when I said "Mario" (rhyming it with "carry-O") while discussing Super Mario Bros., and while this has nothing to do with sports, it was emotionally damaging nontheless.  Despite these rough patches, I'm excited to return to my role as annoying East Coast sports guy, this time under the lights of the Bay Area.  I finished my run in L.A. as the strongest sports fan I've ever been; I plan on topping that over the next two years (as a student with more free time, I'll really have no excuse) and some day returning to the East Coast as some sort of freakish super-fan.

For the next two-weeks I'll be here on Long Island, taking the easy route by watching my teams from close distance while preparing to move out west.  And if I have any free time, I'm always up for for a few rounds of Marry-O Kart. 

Believing in a Cause

I've already given the WNBA plenty of praise on Caught Looking, so even though I did attend another entertaining Liberty game last night at The World's Most Famous Arena, I'll spare you from having to hear me go on and on about how talented these women are, how impressive they are to watch in person, or how more people should be giving these athletes the respect they deserve.  Instead, I want to talk a little about the WNBA game presentation, which I also found to be top-notch.  We were lucky enough to see the Liberty play the Washington Mystics on Breast Cancer Awareness night, and I thought the home team did a great job with the event.  While we see breast cancer awareness events all over sports these days - MLB does the pink bats thing on Mother's Day every season and the NFL had an entire month where players wore pink gloves, cleats and various other pieces of flair this year - the Liberty game seemed to be more significant than others I've seen.  While male athletes seem to sport the pink because their team forces them to, or at best to honor a member of their family who has suffered through breast cancer, you could tell that the women of the WNBA took breast cancer awareness more seriously.

The Liberty wore pink uniforms, which was a nice, if unoriginal, touch.  What caugtht me, though, was a brief ceremony the team did before the game.  A number of breast cancer survivors took the court, and each was presented with a pink-and-white WNBA ball by a Liberty player.  Then the players lined up to greet and hug each of the survivors, and you could tell the players did it not only because they had to, but because they wanted to.  The players seemed to understand that they were fortunate to have the healthy bodies that they had been given, and that diseases such as breast cancer could potentially take it all away at a moment's notice.  Unlike the high-priced male athletes that seem to think they're indestructible, these women seemed to respect and revere the fragility of their careers, which in turn lead me to gain repect for them.

The rest of the game followed the breast cancer awareness theme - with pink logos and LED banners filling the arena, breast cancer awareness was the center of the event, rather than just a minor afterthought like at MLB or NFL games, where fans lazily wonder if Justin Tuck's bright pink Reeboks are some sort of new fashion statement.  The Liberty also honored some pioneers of women's basketball, put smiles on the faces of the fans with the "Timeless Torches" dance routine (basically some old, mostly overweight women dancing to hip-hop, which no one can resist), and overall put together an event that was entertaining, fun and meaningful.  It wasn't the best basketball I've seen recently - both teams were sloppy and New York nearly surrundered a 20+ point lead in the closing minutes before hanging on - but I left MSG feeling like all of us took in something more important than just another basketball game.

Favre: Media Hijacker

Though it may be one of sport's traditionally slow months, August is still a very exciting time to be a sports fan.  In addition to Major League Baseball, where pennant races are beginning to take shape (and where my beloved Braves are holding on to a slim NL East lead), NFL, NBA and NHL teams are rounding out their rosters and beginning preparations for their respective seasons.  Many fans have begun studying frantically for their fantasy football drafts (a ritual which will be covered in depth on this blog in due time), and college football is just around to corner, too.  The WNBA is approaching its playoff season, there are numerous golf and tennis tournaments to follow, and the NASCAR chase is heating up as well.

While there are tons of interesting sports storylines emerging everywhere, you wouldn't know it from watching ESPN, reading SI.com or listening to WFAN.  Recently, the sports media landscape has only reported on two stories: Alex Rodriguez's awkwardly and painfully long chase for home run number 600 (which mercifully ended yesterday), and the constantly conflicting reports on Brett Favre's retirement.  Though I don't know any, there obviously must be people out there who are interested in hourly updates on whether or not Favre will be returning to the NFL this season.  There must be people out there who tune in to SportsCenter, anxiously awaiting the "Table of Contents" on the left hand side of the screen to scroll to "Favre Decision" or "Favre Update"to better understand Favre's decision making process.  Others must sit inches from the screen, awaiting an NFL update on the bottom line and hoping that Favre will have been generous enough to give us all just a little hint as to where he's leaning.  The more vague Favre is, the more reporters and analysts speculate, creating a vicious cycle of obnoxious rumors and misinformation.

Personally, after years of Favre's constant flip-flopping, I couldn't be more tired of both the story and the man.  In my eyes, Favre's selfish hogging of the media spotlight is insufferable.  Once Favre has made up his mind for the year, I'll be happy to hear if he's coming back and plan my fantasy draft strategy accordingly.  Otherwise, I don't want to hear about it every day.  Favre clearly knows that he can force reporters and fans to eat out of the palm of his hand, and he obviously enjoys having the public continually speculate as to what he's thinking.  My question is, how do people find this behavior tolerable and acceptable?  I find it interesting that flamboyant and outspoken NFL stars like Chad Ochocinco and Terrel Owens are often critized for their antics and labelled as egotistical for their onfield celebrations, reality TV shows and postgame interviews.  At least 85 and T.O. are open and honest with their fans; these guys love the spotlight, they want to be noticed, and are trying to build themselves up as public personalities and individual brands.  Favre loves being the center of attention as much, if not more, than Ochocinco and Owens do - he's just a lot more sneaky about it.

Ochocinco and Owens take a lot of flack for seeking out the limelight, but I find these characters entertaining, upfront and fun.  While I wouldn't want every NFL player to act like those two do, I think it's good for the NFL to have a few colorful "love 'em or hate 'em" types.  Favre, on the other hand, just bothers me.  Not only is he not nearly a good enough player at this point in his career to justify all of the media attention, but the way he thrives on his ability to keep his fans, and teammates, in an awkward state of suspense drives me (and I assume others) nuts.  After all he's experienced as an NFL quarterback, Favre should know that being the leader of a football team means being honest to your teammates, coaches and fans.  Even after this latest chapter of the Favre saga is resolved, I'm sure Chad Ochocinco and Terrel Owens will be labelled as the NFL's attention hogs.  In my opinion, though, the way Favre is holding out on the public is far more selfish and self-promoting than anything Ochocinco and Owens will do this summer on VH1.

Mixing Business and Pleasure

Today is my last day of work before taking August off and heading to school in September and, since you don't tend to do a whole lot on your last day other than say your goodbyes, waste time online and go out for drinks afterward, I can't use my typical "I've been too busy at work to post on my blog" excuse.  Lately I've been doing a lot of reflecting on the last two-plus years working for a major sports league here in Manhattan and how I can use my experience, combined with the two years in business school that lie ahead of me, to further my career in professional sports.  What I haven't really stepped back to think about, though, is how working in professional sports has effected me as a sports fan.

I'm not naive enough to believe that everyone involved in professional sports - owners, executives, coaches, players, etc. - is as passionate about sports as I am.  It didn't take a job in a league office to teach me that this is a business, much like any other, and that the bottom line comes down to dollars and cents, not wins and losses.  That being said, working here has magnified that to some degree.  Rather than just understanding the old "sports is a business" axiom conceptually, I have now been able to witness it firsthand.  I had spent the first quarter century of my life flip-flopping between blaming players for their greed and blaming owners for their stinginess.  Now, I can see that both are just trying to get the most they can out of a dysfunctional business model.  Working here has hardly dispelled my belief that sports is mainly about the money.  In fact, it's confirmed it.

In a strange way, though, this has only made me even more passionate about watching and following sports.  Rather than taking away the fictional mystique of "men playing a kids game" that many fans thrive on, a deeper understanding of the sports business landscape has provided me with another dimension of pro sports to follow.  Now, in addition to watching sports for the games, I watch for creative advertising, clever in-game promotions and new television deals.  While I've always appreciated the player negotiation side of the business (my lifelong dream of becoming a Major League Baseball GM remains unchanged), I've also become increasingly passionate about sponsorship, media deals and ticket sales.  Even though I still dream about being involved in player development, I more clearly understand that a team's goal is not only to put the best team on the field, put also to put the best crowd in the seats.

Working in sports has also broadened my appreciation of the global sports marketplace.  While I've always been a die-hard fan of the "big four" American sports, I now find myself looking to other leagues to quench my thirst for novel and creative business practices.  My trip to the World Cup this summer was partly motivated by my desire to see how FIFA is monetizing soccer, the world's most popular sport.  I've learned to appreciate the WNBA not only for its unexpected high level of play, but also for its traditionally un-American, but particularly business savvy, jersey sponsorships.  I've increased my consumption of NASCAR, not so much because I love racing, but because no sport does a better job of integrating advertising with the actual event.

 NASCAR: King of integrated advertising.

Had I never worked a day in pro sports, I'd still follow the NFL, MLB, NBA, and NHL throughout my life.  My time here in New York, though, has taught me to look one level deeper than balls and strikes or goals and assists.  Now when I've up late at night, watching the last few innings of Diamondbacks at Rockies on MLB Network, I can do more than merely wonder why Rockies reliever Joel Beimel wears number 97.  Instead, I can sit back and wonder how much The Denver Post paid for that giant ad to the left of the Coors Field scoreboard.