Tim's Take

Obama 08 - Written 9/24/08

2008-10-26T22:37:00.002-04:00

If Doc can sympathize with the self-educated Jude Fawley and his common-man character in the strict Victorian era, I sure as hell can sympathize with a former president of the Harvard Law Review, a half-black man who has dedicated his life to improve his country, a son of a single mother who is losing an opportunity at a dream because of his middle name.

In the Daily News recently, in classic Northeast Philadelphia fashion, a local resident was quoted as saying something to the effect of (and I paraphrase fairly accurately), “How could I vote for somebody with the middle name ‘Hussein’?” Impressive backward thinking, my fellow American.

I’m amazed, baffled, and embarrassed by the divide between the Democrats and Republicans in what seems like a “make-or-break” election following the disaster that was “43.” After seeing absolute devastation caused overseas by basic and truly imprudent thinking, half of our country feels comfortable with a party who feels one word answers such as “bomb,” “drill,” and “victory” will be sufficient strategies for the shape of our country. While, on the other side, a brilliant and capable man is being so maligned that a good portion of our country truly believes him to be Muslim, a lie so far from the truth that from the outside it’s comical. Unfortunately we’re on the inside.

As a 17-year old I probably have no grounds to say this, but then again most 17-year olds aren’t as inherently confident in their own view of the country and their history as Tim Vernon is (notice the third-person). Has anybody since Bobby Kennedy inspired the same utter giddiness and enthusiasm among the younger generation that Barack Obama has in 2008? Has anyone even come close?

I’m no Kendall Mattern and I’m not trying to say Barack Obama is any sort of savior, but when an educated American surrounds himself with educated people and arouses a whole sector of society that has laid dormant at the polls for decades, I’ve got to say this man is the one for me.

High School Football - Written 8/27/08

2008-10-26T22:37:00.001-04:00

There’s something about football that separates it from every other sport. It’s endorphins and testosterone and adrenaline, but please don’t tell me it’s just teenage boy machismo because it’s so much more to me…Football is training camp and the hundred yard war and suicides and Hail Marys and 6 a.m. alarm clocks calling you to live football for 13 hours only to go home and study a playbook until you fall asleep and line calls and the “quickest two steps in America” and the love you feel for the guy next to you and the hate for the one across and scrimmages and film sessions and countless repetitions of “you make that block and it’s six” and Gerry Bertier and Mike Winchell and the fact that a class of physics students need half an hour to figure out the velocity and trajectory that an oblong, air-filled pig skin needs in order to fall into the hands of a receiver running away at 30 feet a second yet your QB knows the solution in a split second and eye black and ankle tape and wrist bands and the maniacal look in your teammates’ eyes in the locker room before the game and sunsets during warm-ups and bleachers slowly filling up like sand collecting in the bottom of an hour glass and hand held prayers and the thud of the first hit and everyone yelling in the huddle and halftime speeches and coverage adjustments and taking a knee to end it and bus rides home and the screaming thrill of victory and the echoing silence of defeat only interrupted by the hushed whimper of a 6 foot 4 250 pound 17 year old kid and sudden cramps and arm length bruises and the blood and the tears and the incredible feeling of fighting to get out of bed on Saturday morning because everything you have is lying in the grass and dirt 5 miles away.

First Love - Written 5/17/08

2008-10-26T22:33:00.002-04:00

Who knew a piece of plastic could transform a 5-year-old on a pair of beat up roller skates into the 1995 Hart Trophy award winner.

A Sunday tradition, the Holly Hill Lane kids would grab our respective Fischer Price hockey sticks, strap up and roll into the street. Like the pros, we’d warm up, lines of shooters against the lucky kid picked to be the starter in net. With our hands to our hearts, we’d form a single file line, swaying side-to-side like Hextall, in tune with every note of the national anthem.

Thoreau once said that “the world is but a canvas to the imagination.” We knew no rules on the streets those sun-spilled afternoons. With the leaves of the evergreen as our flag, the yellow boom box as our speaker system, we’d emulate in exact detail the ones who ruled the game we loved. The laps, the gloves, the sticks; every seemingly miniscule aspect of the game we eventually perfected with time. We started with a piece of clay, adolescent sculptors with a model to match; kids with a vast knowledge of a game attempting to imitate movements with non-existent muscles.

The actual event, at least compared to the pre-game festivities, would be disappointing for those expecting us to measure up to the pros. Yet through our eyes, the asphalt was no different than ice, we expected each other to shake off scraped up knees – who’s ever seen Eric Desjardins leave the game after skidding on the ice?

The games were truly like no other. Where else could I skate up-ice, look to my left and see John LeClair, look to my right and see Mikael Renberg, yet return home with my two brothers? I was a legend in my own mind long before I was ever cocky.

Lately I've Noticed - Written 3/4/08

2008-10-26T22:31:00.001-04:00

Lately I’ve noticed what is really important in my life.

I’ve realized that the “skip a night out to do work for college theory” is a load of bullshit, that Sunday’s are meant for Church, football, and homework – in that order – and that putting off a night to forge relationships to write essays is a slap in the hypothetical face.

I’ve noticed that I’m saying “I love you” a lot more often; now realizing that when I die I want every person I cared about to know. I don’t care whether it’s my mom every time I leave in the morning or my boys as we leave Wawa before our Saturday night.

I’ve begun to appreciate every moment in my life that renders a strong feeling of emotion, knowing that there are only so many, knowing that those petty, insignificant fights mean nothing and should never get in the way of being with someone you care about.

I’ve noticed I no longer fear death, but rather fear not living.

Cole - Written 2/25/08

2008-10-26T22:22:00.001-04:00

Dear Cole,

A saying goes that those who love life shall have no fear to die. There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that on that spring-like February afternoon, there were millions of things running through your head, but fear was not one of them.

Cole, you were the love of so many people’s lives without them even realizing. Nobody will ever match your natural ability to brighten up every room you entered. On a daily basis, you took what can be a depressing, lowbeat school and made it into a party. Your commentary every lunch is now the stuff of legend. Everytime I walk past that beat-looking sophomore chick who you swore was the second-coming of Helen of Troy, I’ll think of you. Everytime Schelke speaks in that incoherent jumble, which is often, I’ll think of you yelling, “No one can understand you!!!” Everytime someone mixes mayonnaise and ketchup into their pasta, which is never, I’ll remember you in that never-been-wrong attitude telling those imitating a puking motion that we had no idea what we’re talking about.

Your persona didn’t change much when the weekend rolled around. No exaggeration, you were the life of every party – you raised every event to another level. I remember the first real ’09 party – Sih’s house early sophomore year, you and your boy Chase showed up late and it got ridiculous… “Who da fuck iz you,” Andrew puking everywhere, your eight-some in the furniture closet. You were awesome, man; that innate knack at making everyone around you laugh is truly unforgettable.

I guess a good judge of a life is the positive, quality impact we make on others. Cole, you passed that with flying colors. You completed in a short 17 years what others can’t do in 70. You found a girl you loved, a friend you loved, and a life you loved. They all loved you back.

You easily discovered things to be passionate about; sports, school, friends and family. You excelled in each through a certain never-quit mindset that most people didn’t realize you possessed. You always tried to display that easygoing, cocky, “everything-comes-easy-to-me” attitude, as if to make those close to you more comfortable knowing you could do anything you wanted. Maybe you began to believe it yourself, high on life that day on Sheaf.

But honestly, I think you’d want to go out that way. Every single situation you became involved in you dove headfirst, unafraid of what people thought, knowing that you have only so many opportunities in life, that they all must be cherished. Someone said you didn’t deserve to be in an AP class, you’d take pages of notes a night. Someone said you couldn’t finish the boot, you did three just for good measure. Every night out you treated like your last, interacting with nearly everyone, savoring every moment; exuding the eternal optimism everyone has spoken so highly about.

And if there’s one thing that I’ll forever take from your life; that ability to relish every instant spent with friends and family. You taught me how precious life truly is. You developed enough love in your family to teach me what it really means when a parent tells their child “you mean the world to me.” You made me realize it’s not weird to tell my boys I love them. You told me that life’s about the moments and the memories that’ll let us live on long after we’re gone.

Timmy Vernon

He Ain't Heavy - Written 1/4/08

2008-10-26T22:20:00.001-04:00

As much as I’d like to say that my fearless, almost amused grin across my face was a product of audacity and a certain aversion to cowardice, declaring such would be lying. And, in my family, with my brothers, that assertion would be shot down before it ever took off. According to Pops, the biblical Cain represented all that the Vernon brothers stand against. “What am I, my brother’s keeper?” My dad had only one answer to that: “Damn right you are.”

You see, despite everything that my brother Billy may have achieved, my father taught him from the time I departed the womb that my success was his success, my failure his. Legend has it Billy’s first words came in phrase, not “Momma” or “Dada,” but “He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother,” and, “We’re gonna stick together like glue.”

I can definitively say this photograph is my dad’s favorite. All that mattered in our relationship was captured in the picture. There were no extraneous, meaningless details; as he used to say, we cut out the bullshit and figured out what really mattered. This moment in time defines all that was our relationship; two boys leaning on each other on the brink of a new challenge, the first day of a new school year. We confronted every new trial with a blind trust; there was no need to ask one another to be there; each other’s presence was a given.

My dad hoped for us to develop that confidence in each other every single day of our childhood, and the vehicle he used was athletics. Dad would take us out in the front yard, hand us a ball and a bat, and leave us for the day. My mom used to pester my dad, fearing that the daily grind would tear apart the grass. Undoubtedly stealing the line from a favorite film or book, he’d reply, “I’m not raising grass, Jean. I’m raising boys.” And he was; bonds formed as we grew closer with each successive pound of the mitt. Inevitably, Bill and I played on the same intramural teams growing up. And despite an obvious competition even between teammates and brothers, whatever we did, we did together.

For us, the same rule applied academically, and it still does. A bad report card for the younger meant a lack of leadership from the older. A teacher claiming I constantly step out of line reflected poor guidance by my brother. Despite the age difference, despite the grade difference, whatever we did in school, we did together.

And finally, throughout our youth, Bill’s social life was my social life. When he went over to somebody’s house, I went with him. When a wise-ass kid had the bright idea to mouth off to me, Billy laid down the hammer (just in case I hadn’t already, of course). “You keep an eye on him,” my dad used to tell him. “Remember, the strain gets stronger. Wherever you two go, whatever you two do, you do it together.”

The same year this picture was taken, U.S. News & World Report published a story by Erica E. Goode, whose research showed that, “Sibling relationships outlast marriages, survive the death of parents, resurface after quarrels that would sink any friendship. They flourish in a thousand incarnations of closeness and distance, warmth, loyalty and distrust.” My father was the oldest of four brothers, and he had since learned the truth of Goode’s claim. With ties unlike those of any other pair; with a truly resilient, nearly indestructible relationship, my brother guided me as I entered a new phase of life, while never taking that hand off my shoulder.

Capital Punishment - Written 12/20/07

2008-10-26T22:03:00.001-04:00

In the wake of the neighboring New Jersey outlawing capital punishment in the state, the argument over its use and morality has ensued over the past week.

I’ve truly heard every possible contention as to its positive and negatives: I’ve heard it’s inhumane, I’ve heard it’s only appropriate, I’ve heard it’s the only way to keep “bad men” off the streets. Shall I continue?

But to me, the obvious correlation lies between religion and the use of the death penalty. Is it simply a coincidence that the most conservative Christian state in the United States, Texas, has executed 405 prisoners since 1976, the most, by far, in the country? Not only is that number four times greater than that of the second state, but it is also more than the second through seventh states combined!

Most people relate death row to Hammurabi’s Code in Exodus 24 of the Bible, which claims if harm is done, for example an eye is stabbed out, then the cost should be simple, “an eye for an eye.” What most forget is Exodus 23, furthering the law, adding “a life for a life.” The religious conservatives of Texas find it clearly laid out; the best punishment for murder is murder, a life for a life.

But Hammurabi lived way before the era of men in touch with their emotional side, men like Raskolnikov who live, breathe, and eat romanticism and the explanation (and exaggeration) of feelings. It wasn’t until the Quakers did the self-proclaimed renaissance men of America realize that there was a punishment far greater than death.

Right now, there are three kinds of people on death row:

1) The Atheists – These people believe in no God, in no Satan, in no Allah. The lethal injection, the noose, and the chair simply mean the end to a cruel and unusual world.

2) The Sinners – They believe in an afterlife, and know theirs won’t be a pleasant one. Whether it be the fiery pits of Hell or a lost soul doomed to wander the earth for eternity, the Sinners fear the end. For them, there’s only one thing worse than actually being there – thinking about being there.

3) The Contrite – These religious men and women realize that their mistake was a huge one, yet they believe in a loving, forgiving God who accepts the sinners and the saints into His heaven. The Contrite have faced their Lord and are truly sorry for their actions. They know what lies ahead, and they do not fear it.

For me, the solution to a seemingly undying argument is simple. For all types of people on Death Row, or as Perry would describe it, “The Corner,” the end isn’t the worst they will face. So get rid of the death penalty, it’s that easy. When the court gives someone a life sentence, make it a true life sentence, none of this 20 years and parole crap. In fact, to make it easy, leave the current ruling system in place - except when someone’s sentence calls for death, simply transform it into solitary confinement for life. There’s no worse future for the murderers and rapists of the USA then decades alone to think about and “reminisce” about the crimes they committed.

Sinners, Atheists, and Contrite: Welcome to the United States of America!

Lessons on Crime and Punishment from the Bruise Brothers - Written 10/28/07

2008-10-26T22:00:00.001-04:00

For the past 30 years, a furious debate has raged over how children should be disciplined by parents, with a special focus on how fathers should discipline their sons. One argument, represented by the post WWII generation of fathers, held that the small crimes of boyhood should be met with swift corporal, physical punishment, necessary to build young men of character. The more current view, probably an outgrowth of the 1960's liberalism, argued for a more nurturing and gentle approach, including reasoning and "timeouts" with elaborate explanations to help young children discover better behavior on their own terms. In fact, today, the latter, liberal approach to discipline is accepted as the correct way, with many considering the former approach almost "child abuse."

Reading that last sentence with the wisdom of our late teens, my brothers and I can only laugh. You see, we grew up with a father who rationalized his "tough love" by quoting the Bible, as if he wrote it just the day before. His favorite was Proverbs 13:24: "He that spareth his rod hateth his son." However, also being a man of education greatly influenced by my mom's library worth of modern parenting books, he had treated his first born and my oldest brother, Pete, like a reincarnated Baby Socrates. Little did we know how much the arrival of my brother, Billy, and I (only 22 months apart) would allow our Dad to return to his better judgment and make him say, "Screw the liberal parenting approach; the 1940's were right all along."

To more fully examine the complex societal and child raising debates, I will illustrate below some important passages from parenting "experts" and contrast those with my Dad's battle-tested ideas of "expertise."

“‘Punishment’ may alienate family members.” – Sal Sever, Ph.D.

At this point we were still living in the house on Holly Hill Lane, so I couldn’t have been over 7 years old. Back then, still too small to engage in any sort of real tackle football, my brothers and I played knee football in the living room (formerly the garage my dad transformed). In a weird, yet in my humble opinion, genius mix of Bill’s second grade education and my typical kindergarten imagination (along with an insufficient knowledge of professional sports), instead of simply being Terrell Davis vs. Gilbert Brown, he was Stegosaurus while I was Triceratops.

In this mini Knee Football League (KFL) - with a Jurassic twist – we simply played 1-on-1, with an oriental rug substitute for the famous Veteran’s stadium turf. One day, though, on a complete Kool-Aid/Ice Pop high, the typically one-sided game became a little more even.

Fifteen minutes into the game, I scored my first TD since the previous summer. Bill, known at that age for his extreme temper tantrums and complete incapacity for any form of self control, immediately punched a hole through the first thing he saw; in this case, the screen door to the outside.

So for scoring my first KFL touchdown, I was rewarded not the game ball, not a plaque or recognition at the post game press conference, not even a 7-11 Slurpee. Because I had a brother whose restraint matched that of an uncaged lion in the gazelle section of the Philadelphia Zoo, my reward was a 45 pushup sentence, administered equally by my dad to both perpetrator (Bill) and innocent victim (yours truly).

Two weeks later, still pissed off at my brother for my set of sore shoulders, I demonstrated my feelings not through eye contact, but rather through simple contact. As he drove past me towards our Fischer-Price basket, I whipped around and drilled him into the back, sending his face straight into the rim. The blood on the ground and the hole where his teeth used to be signified nothing more to me than reprisal. In the heat of the moment, especially with 8-year-old kids, cooler heads never prevail. English poet Samuel Johnson once said, “Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged.” That phrase defined exactly my feelings at the time.

“‘Eye for eye, tooth for tooth.’ –Don’t use. Not a moral [use of punishment].”- Philip Osborne

Other kids had this thing call “time out” that was supposedly a “punishment.” I guess my brothers and I read a different dictionary, because our two-word substitution for “punishment” was called “free shot.” The free shot was only allowed by my dad in those cases where he was “sure” that blame could be assigned to only one of us (usually Bill for picking on me, or Pete for picking on either of us). In those rare cases, the victim was allowed one free shot on the perpetrator. For example, if my dad only saw one side of a fight, he’d deem the older one guilty for picking on his little brother (although it was usually the younger who instigated it). Finally, the “full nelson hold” was placed on the guilty party by the neutral party (the third brother not involved), while the victim could throw a shot anywhere below the chin and above the belt (this punishment stopped once we developed muscles).

“Don’t use punishment to humiliate a child”- Louise Bates Ames, Ph.D.

My dad would agree with A.C. Benson when he said: “Little boys are odd, tiresome creatures…with savage instincts; and I suppose many fathers feel that, if they are to maintain their authority, they must be a little distant and inscrutable.”

Honestly, based on what I remember from my childhood, I would agree with that too. The Vernon boys were famous throughout the community for being the physical, out of control trio, who at any moment, over any issue, could break out into a brawl. Our family friends called us the “Bruise Brothers,” and found it funny anytime a pushup “contest” followed a little sparring session. Fortunately, they all knew my dad for who he actually was; the third oldest from a family of six, a Chicago kid who grew up running from “the belt,” and a father who knew some fights and pushups wouldn’t damage our psyche. Unfortunately, the moms at the grocery store didn’t know that.

-“What you are doing to those boys is humiliating and abusive.”

-“I can’t wait to see how they turn out”, (followed by a little scoff-like noise).

-“They are just little boys!”

All were common phrases mumbled under your typical desperate housewife’s breath as they walked past us doing pushups in the grocery store. Arguments between my brothers and me over which cereal to get erupted, as most of our arguments did, into a mini wrestling match in Aisle 6. But my dad’s rules applied inside or outside Holly Hill Lane. Ironically, I’m convinced the comments were exactly what my dad was shooting for. Okay, while not humiliating and abusive, I think he knew that there was a link between muscle-memory and behavior change. There is something swift and lasting about dozens of pushups that a quiet timeout can’t touch.

Clearly, my father had a much different approach to his sons than many others. An aspect of his personality that can’t be explained through stories is his everlasting patience. He dealt with three athletic, physical, aggressive boys whose idea of a high was the showing of dominance over a peer. We lived for the scratches, the sweat, the fatigue felt after a fight, whether it be a battle won with pigskin or one with fists. Literally every day during a span of 8-9 years, punishment was dealt out in the form of pushups. We all had the Macbeth-syndrome, trying to be the best, going to any measure to destroy the opponents.

Eventually, we learned a lesson no amount of timeouts could teach us. The combination of religious teachings, stories of brotherhood, and suffering through punishments taught us competition is okay, separation is not. Sparring and rivalry is fine; it’d be unnatural not to do that. But for us, my dad explained that no crime is greater than the division of that brotherly bond. Every pushup was done with my brothers next to me. If I played soft in a game, not giving my full effort, every lap I ran around the house was with Billy two steps ahead. Never mind the stitches my brother needed for the rim incident, anger is a byproduct of sport; I was the first one to make sure he was alright.

In Eric Miller’s “Theodicy in New Brunswick,” the speaker describes overwhelming guilt due to a lack of punishment. My dad never subjected me to that type of pain. Guilt and shame, that’s real punishment, far worse than any supposed corporal punishment or child abuse.

For us, pushups were no punishment. They were simply a reminder; telling us we could fight, but no more. The real punishment would come if we ever asked, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Genesis 4:9).

The most commonly told story by my dad was of Father Flanagan’s Boys Town. One winter day, two orphan brothers showed up at his doorstep, the older carrying the younger miles through a snowstorm. The Father let them both in, amazed at the strength of the older, claiming the younger must have been a burden as he carried him. To that, the older replied “He ain’t heavy, Father – he’s my brother!”

I have heard that story - no lie - at least 150 times in my life, and only recently realized that it was usually told just after the “pushup sentence” was served by the Bruise Brothers.

The Multi-Sport Athlete: A Dying Breed? - Written 1/28/07

2008-10-26T21:56:00.001-04:00

Craig Conlin, Luke Harris, John Barr, Colleen Magarity, Alex Holcombe, LeBron James, Allen Iverson. What do they have in common? They are examples of the many success stories of the multi-sport high school athlete. Yet, the rate of specialization in high school sports is growing exponentially. Kids are quitting sports they love in order to focus on the one at which they think they can be most successful. Why are they quitting, and who is influencing them to do so?

The issue seems to begin with parents. Something has changed. It’s no longer simply the classic “loving,” overbearing parent who wants their child to get a full ride to a 1-A school, and live vicariously through their experience. Now, it seems every parent with an athletic kid faces the temptation. They believe in order to “make it,” their kid needs to play on the school team, the travel team, the AAU team, the summer team, and train all off-season. Ted Silary, the Philadelphia Daily News high school sports writer, who’s covered the area for over 20 years, sees it this way: “The competition for scholarships and grants-in-aid is fierce. A kid is medium to good in two or three sports. The parents think, 'Hmm, if we can get him to play just one, maybe he'll become very good to great and get a ride to college.' The AAU programs and personal coaches LOVE these kinds of parents. As they suck them dry. And Possible Stud still winds up going to Medium State, hoping to make the team as a walk-on.”

After parents, coaches inhabit the next circle of responsibility. In the recent survey Ms. Hofmann passed out to the upper school students, 35% of the junior boys said they felt pressured to specialize. The leading source of the pressure for those juniors was the coaches. Granted, “coaches” doesn’t necessarily mean GA coaches, but also AAU coaches. Still, what is, or isn’t, the athletic department and administration doing on this issue? While Coach Harris made it clear to me that in no way, shape, or form do the coaches support specialization, I think there is more the coaches could be doing. Why isn’t there a guideline stating the school wants its student athletes playing multiple sports, similar to PC’s policy? Why don’t all coaches (Harris has already done this with his football players) hold meetings telling their kids the benefits of multiple sports?

Jack Turner, probably the single most successful GA graduate in all aspects of athletics (as an athlete, coach, athletic director, and father of 3 GA Hall of Fame athletes), thinks something is lost at GA because of specialization. “If you don’t have many athletes participating in more than one sport, while you may have some success for individual teams, you won’t have it across the board,” and “The ability to increase your athleticism by playing another sport has incredible carryover.” This “carryover” became glaringly obvious to anyone watching the GA-Malvern basketball game on Jan. 19th, as Malvern’s cross-sport star Joe Hoban dominated the game with his quickness, toughness, and tenacity.

Playing multiple sports can also effect, or help, one socially. “All my teams had different personalities,” said Sean Grieve, an Inter-Ac/GA baseball and football MVP (and a self-proclaimed all-star JV basketball player on Coach Conlin's last undefeated team), “I had such an enjoyable experience because I didn't hang out with the same people all the time. I feel it forced me not to be socially one dimensional.”

Lastly, how much does not playing multiple sports impact your ability to deliver in clutch situations? “I want my quarterback to have been at the front end of a 1 and 1 down by two, with seconds left, having to make both to tie,” explained Harris. “I want him to have been on the mound with a full count with the bases loaded. There’s nothing better than that to prepare him.”

Remembering The Good Times - Written 12/12/06

2008-10-26T21:52:00.002-04:00

As everyone’s probably heard, we’ve seen the last of Allen Iverson in a Sixers’ jersey. The disgruntled star demanded a trade after a terrible loss to the Bulls on December 6th, claiming that it’s time for him and the franchise to go their separate ways. The team soon after deactivated him, giving him the Sixers version of “the TO treatment.” The trade demand not only contributed to a devastating losing streak for the Sixers, but also an outpouring of criticism for the man who was once the hero of the city. Radio hosts have bashed his “selfish” style of play, arguing that he never made the guys around him better. Even Charles Barkley, the former Sixer and once avid Iverson supporter, said that AI needs “to learn how to share the ball.” But before all of you usher him to the door, try and find how many non-Iverson Sixers jerseys you have, and remember a few things…..

Remember the excitement he brought back to a team that had failed to win 20 games the previous year…

Remember the way he crossed up MJ his rookie year…

Remember that he’s a 7-time All-Star, 2-time All-Star Game MVP, ‘97 Rookie of the Year, ‘01 MVP…

Remember that the 36-year old Dikembe Mutombo, with two bad knees and a worn out body, was Allen’s second option on the team he took to the finals.

Remember that along with Mutombo, Allen’s starting 5 included George Lynch, Eric Snow, and Tyrone Hill (the three combined for a 23.3 career ppg).

Coach Fenerty Interview

2008-02-05T22:21:00.000-05:00

By any statistical measure, GA’s Jim Fenerty is considered one of the best high school coaches on the East Coast, if not the nation. Four hundred plus wins, ten Inter-Ac titles, numerous national rankings, dozens of Division-1 scholarship players…the metrics all tell the story, right? Yet there is a side to the coach in his 19th season at GA that doesn’t come across on any résumé, that can’t be appreciated in any game recap. In a 45 minute, sit-down conversation, the true Jim Fenerty, a man of faith, of family, and of character, was revealed.

Below is the entire interview, from which we can learn that there is a lot more to basketball than simply the X’s and O’s. It’s a true lesson in life.

Favorite highlight at GA? Favorite team? Favorite guys?

I think each team is really special. This is the first time that I have ever, ever, ever coached Jimmy [his son, a junior guard] in anything. I think that has been pretty interesting. I have deliberately not coached him because I think I just wanted to be a father watching him play…

I like to go back to the very first teams which is kind of why I keep the pictures up here [referring to his office, where every team photo since his first in 1989-1990 still hangs]. It was Johnny O’Connor, who is now a big time coach down at Georgia Tech, Michael Hawkes who was a P.E. teacher here and was basically a football coach, and myself; basically the three of us coached all of the teams, and it wasn’t uncommon for us to coach a freshman team in the afternoon and then coach the varsity team that night. It was interesting.

It was fun building the program. I think what has changed over the years is the expectation level. When we first got here, I remember our first year here we played Penn Charter down at PC. We frankly weren’t a very good team, we were pretty young. We had Alvin [Williams] as a freshman, Dennis Kane as a freshman, and Blair Hicks as a freshman. We had Mark Nori as a sophomore; LT Talley was a junior. We went to Penn Charter and we lost the game in overtime, when a kid named Michael Downey threw in a shot from half court; we lost by one. We were down in that dungeon of a locker room, and there were GA people lining the steps to congratulate us. I thought to myself, “Where am I at? We lost this game,” but I guess we hadn’t really played well against Charter in basketball in a couple of years, and people were just excited about that. And the next year we beat them by 20. It was like Christmas day.

My truly favorite team is the next team I’m going to coach. I feel very fortunate to have been able to coach as long as I have and to coach as many really good people as I have. Some of them have been great players, but all of them have been great people in their own way, and that’s the way I like it.

How about the funnest team?

I thought coaching DJ [Johnston] and Kyle [Griffin] was a lot of fun last year. DJ just simply loved the game. My big saying - which I get busted on all the time by my team - is that I want people to play the game with a smile in their heart. And I think DJ and Kyle did just that, even when they were hurt. When the guys had every reason to pack it in, and just say “whatever” to the season, they didn’t, and I think that was a lot of fun.

It has been fun coaching the great teams, but it’s also been a lot of fun building. Some of our teams that didn’t win championships have, in my mind, been champion performers because they took basketball and made it more than just a game; they made it something that was a life lesson, and I feel like that is what we’re supposed to be about.

One of the things that really bothers me is this all-encompassing, you have to win, and it has to be a year-round thing, and you have to specialize attitude. I have never felt that is a good thing for a kid. But yet I seem to be the dinosaur. I am told by people, “Well, you really don’t know how things work.” Well, you know what, I’ve been coaching for a long time, and I know a ton of people in college basketball, and I’ve had my opportunities but I know how it works, I know how people work.

I really do think, and I tell my players this, that to really be a healthy human being, you need to do three things; three things my grandfather told me. Each day you need to smile - you need to find something to smile about each day. He used to say each day you need to cry - you need to find something in which your emotions are touched and you feel passionately about. And finally, each day you need to do something to stimulate your mind. He used to say, “You need to read something every day, you need to cry about something every day, and you need to laugh about something every day.” That’s been great advice. He’s been long gone, but it’s been good advice to me because if you do things with a passion, you may not always do it right, but you’re a better person for trying.

And if you just keep your sense of humor… My lord, at a place that is as high powered as GA, if you don’t have a sense of humor, you don’t last real long.

How about a certain favorite moment that even after you retire, you will look back on and say that kind of defines my coaching career at GA?

I think it goes back to the day that Randy Ayers was fired as the coach of the 76ers. I got a phone call from Mrs. Ayers early in the morning and she told me what had happened. I was devastated because Randy Ayers is one of the really good people who should be around coaching. And she told me they were going to keep Ryan and Cam home, and I told her absolutely, whatever you need us to do, we’ll do. Later on that day, some media types called, some TV stations, and they wanted to come and film our practice. I said no because I wasn’t going to let Ryan go through that, even though he wasn’t in school. The media claimed I was standing in the way of the press and the “freedom to know,” and I said, “No I’m not, I’m protecting my player here. I am protecting a family that I care a great deal about.”

Ryan called later on in the day, and I was actually in Mr. Connor’s office [GA’s headmaster] when he called, so they transferred the call up there. Ryan just said “Coach, I know it’s against school policy and everything, but would it be okay if I came to practice? I think I just need to be around my teammates.” I looked at Mr. Connor, and he said, “Absolutely, let him come.”

For some reason that day we were practicing in the small gym. I said to Mr. Dolan and Mr. Stipa, the two security guys, “Look, I told these people no, they couldn’t come, but that doesn’t mean the press does everything you want them to.” And sure enough, one of the local TV stations showed up, right outside the door. I had told the security guys, “Nobody gets in here today. This is a family and one of our guys is hurting, and we just need to work.” The most special moment to me was when those TV guys showed up, despite our security guys saying no. Ryan’s teammates rallied around him and they said, “Coach, nobody comes in here to mess with him.” To me, I felt like, even though that team didn’t win a championship, that team was a family, and that team was close. To me, that was a moment that I will never forget…

[At this point got a little choked up].

Then there was last year with Jimmy, with the 400. The 400 wins were not important to me. But the event was… and it was great to see him do that.

How about outlook coming in from Egan and has it changed at all from your first year to your 19th season now?

I still think back to when they called me over here to talk about being a history teacher. It was about a middle school history position, and about being a basketball coach. When I walked through this place and they were telling me how their record wasn’t very good, but I just looked around and thought, “I don’t see why this place can’t be a great academic institution and have a great athletic program.” Now I look at it every day when I come in, 19 years later, and know that not only is GA a great academic institution, but we also have some incredible student-athletes.

I think GA has always had a tendency to undersell what it does. I think we have terrific people here; terrific kids, terrific coaches, terrific teachers. I think sometimes we almost feel like we have to apologize that we have such good people. I don’t see any reason to do that. I think we are lucky.

Because I’ve coached so long, I get asked to go and speak at a lot of different places. I see schools, and it’s just a shame what’s going on there. Kids are losing their dreams because they just don’t have an opportunity to chase that dream. At GA that just doesn’t happen. We ought to say we’ve got something good here. I look back, and my favorite players of all time are the ones who came to GA, and this place changed their life in a positive way. And I hope we continue to attract those kinds of kids. I think there are kids and you just look and say, “This kid is so much better off because he came to GA.” A lot of kids can get a good education anywhere, but this young man or this young woman came to GA, and this place changed their life. That’s what I look for.

How about the game? Has it changed really?

I don’t like the direction of the game right now. I honestly think this, and I hope my players realize it, that basketball is a game. It’s a game to be played, it’s a game to be enjoyed. What I’m afraid of nowadays is that kids are using basketball as a means to an end. To me, the end of basketball should be, you know, you go out there and you compete and you find out that maybe you can go further than you thought you could go, but you have a blast doing it and you have a lot of fun playing it. Unfortunately I’m starting to see more and more guys who use basketball as training ground to get that scholarship, or training ground to go to the NBA, or training ground to get their name in the paper. All of those things are just trivial and they’re not really that important. It’s just a game. You should play the game to enjoy it, and I don’t see that happening.

It’s become way too important in some people’s lives; players, parents, coaches - to the point where its importance has been blown so far out of context that it stops being fun for a lot of kids.
I really don’t like the trend. I honestly don’t. I know I’m a dinosaur, I know that there are people out there who think I shouldn’t be encouraging kids to have fun playing this game, telling me “You got to win it!” But you know, at the end of the day, we’re all going to be measured by what we brought to this life and what we did. If we can all say we made a positive difference in the life of just one person, then we’re a success. We’re not going to be judged on how many wins and losses we have…we’re not going to be judged on how much money we’ve made or anything like that. It’s going to be what did we do with the talents we had and did we make a positive difference?

In the meantime, we’ve go to look and see what’s really important. If a parent judges their child only by the number of points that they score, then that parent is missing out on a jewel. They are missing out on a great opportunity to grow with that young person and to guide that young person. If a coach just simply says, “Hey, I’m going to use this high school job because I want to get to the next level. I want to get a college job,” then that’s not fair to the kids that they’re coaching.

I’ve said the same thing to college coaches when they come in here and they want to talk about certain things. The first thing I ask them is, “How are you going to help my young student athlete fulfill the dream of getting an education, to get them to the point where they can be successful human beings?” They say, “What do you mean? Like, how many times we are going to be on television?” No! You can tell a family that you’re going to make sure that their child gets an education, but if you go out and practice 5 hours a day, you’re not helping them.

Where do you think it starts like, the game not being fun?

I think it starts when kids start playing. I’m seeing situations where parents in Lower and Middle School get their children a personal trainer.

When I was growing up we had this thing called the Father’s Club every Saturday. Everybody lined up according to height. Then they said, “How many kids we got today? Okay, we’re going to count them off and we’re going to divide them up according to height, and we’re going to play.” Somebody coached, and the coaching was just, you know, “Dribble with your left hand.” It wasn’t any of this screaming and yelling, no zones or any of that kind of stuff.

I just think everything is now measured by the score, and that’s not a good thing. I think basketball is meant to be one of those moments where, like my grandfather said, you smile. And you know what, in basketball games there have been times where you feel like you’re ready to cry, times that you feel like you’re ready to smile, and times where you should learn something. You should learn to deal with people and the dynamic of a group. You should learn how to deal with somebody saying that you can’t do something. Well hey, maybe you should prove to them that you can. You deal with victory, you deal with defeat. You deal with all things that are going to happen to you in your life, whether we want them to or not. You’re going to have good moments, and you’re going to have bad moments, and you should be able to use athletics to help you learn how to deal with that.

I’m afraid that we’re putting the cart before the horse. Because we’ve been so successful, people look to send their kids to GA, and one of the questions they ask me is, “How many kids have you gotten Division 1 scholarships?” The answer I always give them is none. And they look at me and say, “Well, that’s not true.” And I say, yeah, it is true. You asked, “How many kids have I gotten a Division 1 scholarship for,” and the answer is none. I’m hoping that I’ve given the kids an opportunity to go play a game that they love, and go play a game that they have fun with. And I’m hoping that maybe that has helped them somewhere along the way. But if a kid gets a scholarship, he got the scholarship. It’s not Jim Fenerty, it’s the kid! And you know what, I’m happy for them.

How about this team?

One of the difficult parts of coaching, especially in a sport like basketball, is trying to get all 13 guys on the same page. And I know this team’s going to get there, or I’m going to probably die trying. They’ve shown spurts.

One of the hardest things to do in today’s society is to willingly become part of something bigger than yourself. To have a successful season, everybody’s got to do that. And it can’t be 5 out of 13, or 10 out of 13. It’s got to be all 13. They’ve all got to buy into the idea and put their egos aside, and for this 2 hour period of practice, or game, or whatever it might be, be big enough men to subjugate their egos and become part of something greater. That’s a hard thing in this society for people to accept. And it’s a hard thing to teach.

I’ve seen us lose but play together, and I’ve seen us win but play separate. I don’t always measure wins and losses by what’s on the scoreboard. I’m looking to see what we can do.

I think we have great young men on this team. I think there are great role models among the seniors. I think Joe Hill plays as hard as anybody we’ve ever had. I think Tim McCarty has taken whatever God-given ability he has and has simply worked his tail off to be better. I see him doing the same thing in the classroom. I think Alan Tate has taken a really bad situation, I mean the kid has had no luck health-wise in basketball, and he’s handled the situation with a great deal of dignity. I think Nicky Gill might be one of my favorite players of all time. He just simply goes out there and he works every day. Nicky’s just a wonderful young man. And Vik Bala, I mean, if there’s a good story on this team…Vik Bala was here as a freshman and he made the third team. As a sophomore, he made the third team. A lot of guys would have packed it in and said, “Well, I’m going to go somewhere else.” At the end of his sophomore year he came to me and said, “I want to play basketball at GA. What do I need to do?” We told him, and what do you know, he did everything we told him to do. And then last year as a junior, he becomes one of the best guys on the JV team. And this year he’s just a delight to have on this varsity team. It’s the power of perseverance.

I think those 5 guys are terrific role models for any of the other kids in our program. If things work out right, at the end of this year they’re going to call themselves champions. But even if the record doesn’t turn out that way, I think they still have that championship mentality. I’m real proud of them.

Let me just say this. After every game I call my parents and I thank them for paying all of that money for tuition to let me get a Masters degree, and part of that Masters degree is in psychology. And I had no idea I was going to be a coach. I thought I was going to be a lawyer. I did an internship in my junior year at LaSalle with a law firm and said, “No way in the world do I want to be a lawyer.” And the good Lord directed me in the right way to coaching and teaching. And I use that Masters degree in Human Services psychology every day. That’s part of being a coach. Anybody can pick up the X’s and O’s of the game. But trying to deal with people is the most important part of it.

Any advice for young coaches?

Yeah, there are a few things.

The first is, if you’re a young coach, understand that there are people out there who have done what you want to do. You need to swallow your pride and bleed them dry of all of their experience and information. One of the best things I ever did coaching-wise was when I just started at Egan. I was a young coach, and I ran into Pat Knapp; he had just left McDevitt to take an assistant job at Notre Dame for women. I was talking with him because we had been friends for a long time, and he said, “Why don’t you come out and work Notre Dame’s camp?” I did that for 10 summers, and I met some of the finest basketball coaches, but also some of the finest people, that I’m ever going to come across. Guys like Pete Gillen, who was the coach at Virginia. Guys like Jimmy Baron, who’s coaching up at Rhode Island. Guys like Digger Phelps. And I learned. I learned from every single one of them. You develop a sense of humility when you’re around really great coaches - I’ve always believed that.

The second thing is don’t take yourself so seriously. One of the things that bothers me the most is when a team performs well, I see these coaches suffer a dislocated shoulder because they are so enthusiastically patting themselves on the back. The kids won the game. Your job is to put them in situations where they can be successful. Then I see other situations where you lose a game, and all the coach does is blame his players. The bottom line is when you lose games, generally, it’s because the other team is better. But there are times where, as a coach, you just didn’t do a good enough job putting your kids in a situation to win.

Finally, always remember that when you are coaching young people, they all want to succeed, and they’re all trying to do the right thing out there. When they make a mistake, it’s not because they’re deliberately trying to make a mistake. It’s just simply because they made a mistake. My philosophy has always been - and I still say it today – that when you make a mistake, know what you did wrong, then move on to the next play. Coaches shouldn’t stand there embarrassing the kid by yelling and screaming. We all scream and yell at games, it’s just the emotion of the game. But don’t take the joy out of the game for a young man or a young woman. Just remember that it’s a game. When you lose your temper or you lose your emotion and you lose control of yourself, be big enough to, when you finally settle down, say “I’m sorry. That was really stupid.” Let the kids know that your primary interest is not the score. Your primary interests are the young people that you are coaching.

Clearly I feel very deeply about the philosophy of the game and the philosophy of coaching. I just think sometimes people don’t really know who I am.

What a Year

2007-10-07T23:30:00.000-04:00

Stunned. Frustrated. Disappointed. All are feelings of every Phillies fan after the unacceptable performance by the team in the NLDS against the Rockies.

And all are things we should be feeling, reactions we should be having. But at this point, only a week after such a tough series, take a step back and overlook the NLDS.

The past three months, easily, was the most exciting time of baseball since ’93. One of the greatest seasons in Philadelphia sports in the past 15 years, no doubt about it. This team made the city, if only for a few months, forget about the year 1964, the doormat Birds, and the hopeless Sixers.

And who could have seen it coming. Forget the 4-11 mark in April; most still had leftover hope from their original preseason expectations. How about July 7th, a game under .500 after losing 7 of 9. Who though this team was going to win the division then? Probably nobody outside the clubhouse. Who could have guessed at that point, with a .215 batting average and a comfortable seat on the bench, that down the stretch in September, with the game on the line, you would want Pat Burrell at the plate?

If I called in to WIP in March saying the Phils would win the division despite losing:

-Garcia and Lieber for the season,

-Myers and Gordon for 2 months,

-Utley and Hamels for a month each,

-Victorino for 3 weeks, and

-Howard for 2 weeks

I would have been asked what I was smoking.

But the team came through. How incredible it was. Jimmy Rollins played out of his mind. A 23 year old kid with a 4-7 minor league record became a shut-down MLB starter. The Bat, maybe the single most underachieving Philly athlete since Mike Mamula, earned every penny of his 13.25 million dollar contract down the stretch. Forget the .209 season and the 25$ million Ed Wade handed to him; I would trade it all for the second half of 2007 he had.

Nonetheless, with the loss to the Rockies, it looks as if the Philadelphia sports drought will add a year to the previous 23. The Curse of Billy Penn lives on, if only for one more year, because in March 2008 the Comcast Center will be complete, with a Billy Penn figurine sitting on top…

And we see the hope spring eternal. “Wait ‘til next year” has some meaning now, as “next year” returns almost every top ’07 performer, along with Uncle Charlie, the man who carried the team as far as it could go.

Over the past weeks we picked up a sound in a 71 year old man’s voice that we hadn’t heard for a decade. That voice that defines a franchise and mesmerizes a city had “high hopes.” And finally, going into a new year, we do too.

Cheating in Sports

2007-09-15T22:10:00.000-04:00

With the controversy surrounding the Patriots recording the Jets defensive signals, a single, almost un-answerable question has developed: What is cheating?

This past week on ESPN, there was an awesome debate between analysts John Kruk and Mark Schlereth about the definition of cheating in their respective sports. Both made great points, explaining the different examples of cheating in each and how punishment is handed out. Kruk spoke of pitchers simply beaning batters when sign stealing was suspected, while Schlereth described the almost impossible ways to subtly cheat in a sport like football without completely crossing the line.

This got me thinking of the nearly hopeless wish of drawing a line between right and wrong with such a gray subject. Truly, nothing is black and white in either league’s rulebooks about the definition or description of “cheating.”

But, what I have discovered is that in this age of fast-twitch muscles and protein pills, the simple idea of technology can be that fine line, that barrier we need to classify what is “cheating” versus what isn’t.

While the Patriots are being harshly disciplined for their actions last Sunday against the rival Jets, America has glorified the ’51 Giants for the famous shot heard round the world. Don’t see the connection, or the contrast I am trying to make between the two? Well, what has been forgotten throughout the history of Bobby Thompson’s home-run and Russ Hodges’ remarkable call was the means by which the Giants got to that point. Throughout the season, Giants coach Herman Franks would sit in centerfield (the location of the clubhouse) and use binoculars and telescopes to steal the catcher’s signs, then relay them back into the batter using either the scoreboard or a bell and buzzer.

This same tradition continues to this day, as teams will assign bench players or coaches to sit on the steps, eyes constantly on the opposing dugout in an attempt to steal the manager’s calls. Players at second base will even take a bigger lead to get an angle to the catcher’s crotch, occasionally causing an amusing moment as the runner takes seconds to realize he has been picked off due to a lack of attention given to the mound.

Now, why is this type of cheating universally accepted throughout the league, while in the NFL a million dollars in fines are given out for the same type of actions. Why is this videotape any different than the 31 other teams with men with binoculars in the stands watching the opposing sideline. The simple answer: the technology.

Seriously, after days of thought on the matter, this has to be the solution. The 31 other teams have to steal the signs on the fly, no tape, no recording, nothing other than wit and ingenuity to use as aid. The Patriots, on the other hand, were able to pause, fast-forward, and rewind in the blink of an eye, able to match up plays with calls, signals with results. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to decipher those calls.

The same rule of technology applies to baseball. Technology and innovation is the difference between a pre-workout protein shake and a pre-workout shot in the ass. The difference between some spit and sandpaper on a ball causing it to sink versus an anabolic arm delivering 99mph heat. The difference between a little extra pine tar and a weight distribution on the bat compared to a bat swung by Barry Bonds.

So was the Patriots punishment deserved? I think so. Should they forfeit their three Super Bowl rings? Hell no. The same goes for the ’51 Giants. Was this Herman Franks fellow hanging out in centerfield crossing the line with his binoculars in one hand and beer in the other? No doubt. But in no way does that diminish the single greatest home run call of all-time.

Technology, in the end, will put that asterisk next to Barry Bonds and Mark McGwire, will add the “Hey, remember that one time with the camera…” on to any Patriots discussion, and will have no effect on the achievements compiled by the likes of Gaylord Perry, Joe Niekro, George Brett, or Whitey Ford.

The Greatest Ever…Unfortunately

2007-08-06T21:00:00.000-04:00

It’s time to face it. Barry Bonds is easily the greatest hitter in the last 25 years. And if you turn a blind eye to any off the field controversy, he’s also the greatest ever.

Let’s run down the resume he’s racked up over the course of his career:

-He demolished Ted Williams’ single season OBP by over 50 percentage points (.609 to .553). He was 39 at the time.

-He is first, second, and third on the list of single season walks. He holds the record at 232, the next closest (other than himself) is George Herman, at 170.

-At this point, Bonds more than doubles Aaron (in second) for career intentional walks. He needs only 7 to reach 700. Aaron hasn’t even reached 300.

-Bonds is the only player in the 400-400 or 500-500 club (home runs – RBI’s).

-He holds three of the top five spots for single season slugging, including the top spot, which he got at age 36.

-For his career, Bonds is 1st in long balls, 2nd in runs created, 3rd in runs, 4th in OPS, 5th in RBI’s, and 6th in OBP. He could easily improve upon those numbers before retiring.

Bonds stats don’t even tell the whole story. For basically five seasons (2000-2004), pitchers couldn’t throw the guy anything over the plate. He averaged 61 intentional walks in that span. Not only did pitchers have to pitch around him, they simply couldn’t pitch to him at all. He nearly tripled Willie McCovey’s intentional walks record as Bonds racked up 120 in 2004.

During that same five year period, Bonds won the MVP four times. From 1990-2004, Bonds won 7 MVP’s, finishing second twice, fourth once, and fifth twice.

Bonds, for all intents and purposes, should be recognized as the greatest slugger ever.

But not respected for it.

Let’s continue to overlook the steroids. As a man, Hank Aaron was respected by his teammates, the media, and the fans. Bonds can’t say that. Babe Ruth brought life back to the game after the Black Sox scandal. Bonds can’t say that, either.

Rick Reilly wrote an excellent article in 2001, in which he described the Giants clubhouse as 24 teammates and Barry Bonds. He wrote “When Bonds hit his 500th home run, in April, only one person came out of the dugout to greet him at the plate: the Giants' batgirl. Sitting in the stands, you could've caught a cold from the freeze he got. Teammates 24, Bonds 1.”

And finally, there’s the steroids. The evidence against him has become overwhelming. The team’s writers and Bonds’ former teammates have helped document his alleged steroid use. The fans have also demonstrated their belief that Bonds cheated, as oversized syringes and large asterisks are seen in every park aside from Pac Bell.

So although my generation gets to see the greatest hitter of all-time, we also may be watching the biggest jerk, too.

Luckily with each new season, hope strings eternal. Let’s just hope that A-Rod, or someone else, has enough in the tank to eclipse Bonds. Because although I know that Barry’s the greatest hitter thus far, I just hope it doesn’t stay that way.

Philly Fan Hypocrisy

2007-08-02T23:56:00.001-04:00

"For who? For what?"

Ricky Watters' infamous line following his first game as an Eagle as came to define everything that Philadelphia fans claimed to despise.

The whole idea that Philly fans are 100% about "playing hard" and "giving it your all," is complete BS. While this has always been a tough, blue collar city, with the recent rise in 24/7 sports (ESPN, WIP), the typical Philadelphia fans' attitude has been blown out of proportion so much that we have begun to believe it ourselves. When Aaron Rowand was traded here after the '05 season, it was said that he would be a perfect fit for Philadelphia, even called "the prototypical Philly fan favorite." Well what the hell does that mean: prototypical Philly player?! He wasn't our favorite only a year after the trade, when we were begging Pat Gillick to trade the hard (broken) nosed centerfielder for some bullpen help. Yeah, you heard it right; the "fan favorite" was on the block for middle relief after hitting .262 as the Phils fell short of the playoffs for the 12th straight season.

Our recent history is full of these types of players - the ones perceived to be a perfect fit for the city - but instead of continuing the "play hard" tradition of Philly, all they have done is extend the city's record of futility.

Doubting me already, eh? Some think we would rather lose with hard-nosed players than win with aloof stars? Let's look at a few examples.

Allen Iverson. The definition of leaving it all on the court. The same man who would play through 12 injuries at once (yes, they counted), bang his 5'11, 165 pound frame against guys like Shaq and Ewing while driving to the hole, in a super-human effort to place another W on the board for his Sixers. But in the last few years, no matter how much heart has been shown, the fans have soured on AI. They say that, despite averaging over 7 assists since the '03-'04 season, his apparent lack of ability to act as a true point guard has hindered the Sixers offense. The problem is, with guys like Kenny Thomas, Eric Snow, and the fading prima donna formerly knows as Chris Webber as your second options, having 10 assists a game and simply starting the offense wouldn't make much sense. Despite the overwhelming evidence that AI had little to do with the Sixers' struggles, the fans proved the only thing that matters is the ring.

Terrell Owens. The definition of I. If unprototypical were a word, then T.O would be the unprototypical Philly player. All that is selfish and egotistical is Terrell Owens. But for almost two years, we completely overlooked the obvious, turned a blind eye, and enjoyed the times as the Birds marched towards the Super Bowl, and Owens towards a blow up. It wasn't until the end of Owens' tenure in Philly, after no championship was delivered, that the fans started accusing Owens of being the problem in the locker room and on the field. When the Eagles won, he was a savior; when they lost, it was his head on the stake.

I hate to say it, but we aren't that dissimilar from the fans in Boston, New York, or Chicago. Maybe we don't complain as much, aren't as annoying, and don't blame our futility on curses (i.e. we're smarter), but our views on the success of our teams and players are alike. We boo a Rowand strikeout, New Yorkers boo a Jeter slump, Sox fans call for a Foulke exile only a year after the curse was lifted.

Forget previous success. In the what-have-you-done-for-me-lately world of sports, the desire for championships often puts unwarranted blame on teams' best players. The virus even spreads to the most knowledgeable Philly fans, some of whom accuse the supposed fan favorites Jeremiah Trotter and Brian Dawkins of failing to perform at a high level, while overlooking the effect the sub-par play of the D-line and strong safety would have on the two.

The views and feelings toward even the most blue-collared players of Philadelphia are trumped by the success of the team. And there's the hypocrisy. While fans everywhere would like to believe the Lombardi quote that "winning isn't everything, but the will to win is," that simply isn't true. The reason the city celebrated with the trade for TO wasn't because we were getting a clubhouse guy to make his teammates play harder, it was because we knew, no matter whom he was playing to please, Owens could bring us closer to a ring.

While Philly fans may have earned their image as some of the most passionate in the country, the notion that we would rather watch a mediocre blue-collar athlete than a pompous star is merely a myth. Perhaps another Lombardi quote best defines the mantra of fans in this championship-starved city: "winning isn't everything, it's the only thing."

Wade vs. Gillick

2007-08-02T23:44:00.000-04:00

"Win at all costs.” That was the motto of the once revered and highly valued Phillies GM Pat Gillick. It was said that Gillick would bring Philadelphia a championship like he did for Toronto in ’92 and ’93. It was said he would be a major upgrade over the much-maligned Ed Wade, who the fans basically ran out of town. Those same fans’ hopes ran high with the hiring of the veteran GM with the great track record. The abysmal image of Wade faded in the review mirror as Gillick began to take the franchise in a new direction.

Well now it is July 2007, and the Phils are currently a mere 2 games over .500. Gillick’s Phillies have the same number of playoff appearances as Wade’s Phillies (zero). In fact, the Phils in Wade’s last two years have a better winning percentage than the team under Gillick. No longer are people expecting the 68 year old to lead them to the promised land.

But exactly how bad has Gillick been? Even the most disgruntled Phils fans would have trouble saying Gillick has been worse than Wade. With that said, let’s look over some of Gillick’s moves.

The most sensational trade involved the unloading of the 9-year Phillie Bobby Abreu and middle of the rotation veteran Cory Lidle. In return, Gillick got a lefty reliever (Matt Smith) and three minor league prospects, including 2005 first-round pick C.J. Henry.

A year later, and the prospects’ projections don’t look so hot. Smith posted a Gavin Floyd-esque 11.25 ERA as the lefty out of the ‘pen, before being sent back down to Triple-A. Carlos Monasterios, the young righty with the live arm, has an ERA near 5 at Lakewood. First rounder Carl Henry’s name change hasn’t helped his average, still wallowing below the Mendoza line in Low-A ball. And 20-year old catcher Jesus Sanchez, the final piece of the deal, hit just .192 in the Gulf Coast League in ’06.

Still, the most important part of this move was the cut of salary, as Abreu and Lidle were paid a combined 32 million in ’05 and ’06. Along with the departure of Randy Wolf (9mil in ’06), Gillick’s trades opened up millions in payroll to be used elsewhere; hopefully towards an improvement in starting pitching and a middle of the lineup bat to be added in the ’06-’07 offseason.

Around came the aforementioned offseason. Gillick made a splash at the winter meetings as he traded headcase Floyd and top-rated prospect Gio Gonzalez to the White Sox for front of the rotation starter Freddy Garcia. The month before, Gillick had signed free agent Adam Eaton to a 3-year, 24 million dollar contract.

Thus far, it seems as if Chicago knew something Gillick didn’t. The 32-year old Garcia went on the DL with a shoulder that has been sore since spring training. The tandem of Garcia and Eaton currently sport a 10-12 record with a 5.88 ERA. In comparison, the Wolf-Lidle combo had a 31-22 record in the ’05 and ’06 seasons, along with a sub-5 ERA. They also made 5 million less.

To top it all off, Gonzalez is tearing up Double-A. Gio has over a K per inning, and an ERA on the verge of dropping below 3. Also, with the probable departure of Jose Contreras, there will be at least one open rotation spot, leading to the possible call-up of the 22 year old.

In a similar situation, Gillick decided to part ways with long-time Phil Mike Lieberthal. With the opening of almost 11 million dollars from the departure of Lieby and David Bell, Gillick made it public that he intended to sign a right-handed power bat to protect Chase Utley and Ryan Howard in the middle of the order. Also, he needed to find a second catcher, preferably a veteran to help mentor the young Carlos Ruiz. These two players came in the form of Wes Helms and Rod Barajas. Helms was heralded as the guy to fit the hole that has been 3rd base for the Phils since Scott Rolen was traded to the Cardinals in 2002. Well, if one home run in the first 70 or so games counts as the pop needed, then Wes has filled that role. Otherwise, he hasn’t, as his .251 average often seems to match his fielding percentage, making Abe Nunez look like Brooks Robinson at the hot corner.

Barajas isn’t doing much better. When Pat Burrell is the only player you’re hitting better than, something must be wrong. Barajas’ weakness at the plate has forced Ruiz to mature much faster than the Phils’ coaches would have like. Thus far, Ruiz has started 5 out of every 8 games.

If fans are surprised by the lackluster play of Gillick’s free agent signings, they shouldn’t be. In his first year (’06), Gillick’s three acquisitions, Nunez, Ryan Franklin, and Alex Gonzalez, didn’t produce much better than those of this year. Nunez played the best of the trio, hitting .211 in 123 games. Gonzalez was possibly the biggest disappointment of Gillick’s offseason. Expected to be the primary utility infielder reminiscent of fan-favorite Tomas Perez, Gonzalez hit just .111 before retiring midway through the year. Finally, Franklin, who was brought in as a starter but eventually moved to bolster the ‘pen, ended with a 1-5 record before being traded to the Reds.

It’s not only been Gillick’s signings, but also his lack of action that has been questionable.
After trading Rheal Cormier in the 2006 season and releasing Aaron Fultz after it, Gillick hoped that his fill-ins, Fabio Castro and Matt Smith, could plug the lefty whole created by Cormier. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until the emergence of Mike “Honestly, I’m 24 years old” Zagurski (signed before Gillick’s hiring) that the fans stopped sweating as Charlie Manuel signaled for the lefty.

When you look at the heart of this Phils team, you have got to notice something. Utley, Howard, Rollins, Hamels, Myers, Victorino, and Ruiz we’re all drafted or signed under the Wade regime. Thus far, almost 70% of the Phils runs have been scored by guys brought in under Wade.

Granted, Pat Gillick has not even been here two years, and the Moyer and Rowand trades have been successful, but the numbers don’t lie. The outcomes of his moves haven’t matched the expectations of the fans; in fact, they haven’t matched those of Ed Wade. And in no way am I portraying Wade as Red Auerbach; when the highlight of your tenure includes Burrell’s $50 million, 6-year contract, it’s tough to make that comparison. But Gillick’s “stand pat” attitude at the trade deadline has been his downfall in the past, including the ’06 season. With the likely departure of Rowand, Lieber, and Garcia after the year (also, Jamie Moyer will be 45 in ’08) this season could make or break the legacy of Gillick.

Realistically, though, while Gillick has continued the Phils history of mediocrity, nobody can claim he’s been worse than Ed Wade. Wade never led the Philly to a postseason, screwed up the payroll by signing Burrell and Lieber to outrageous contracts, and finished with a sub-500 record. Not much of a legacy there, either. Hopefully five years down the road, towards the end of Gillick’s tenure, the several Phils playoff appearances will have helped us forget the Wade regime.

For as they say, there’s always next year.