Today’s Thoughts
Grammy Wrap Up
The actual awards are the least interesting portion of the Grammys, so let’s go through that briefly. Judging music is inherently subjective, so I rarely get too bothered by the results. Like anyone I would much prefer that artists & songs that I like receive honors, but as long as there are few egregious choices I’m cool.
Taylor Swift of course made history. She is the first artist to have won Album Of the Year 4 times. There is a bit of an uncomfortable feel to that, which Jay-Z alluded to in his acceptance speech for an honorary award. He pointed out that despite winning more total Grammys than anyone else in history, Beyoncé has never won the album award. That’s not Swift’s fault, but it’s not a great look that you have to go all the way back to Lauryn Hill to find the most recent African-American woman to win the album trophy.
By my count, only 8 awards were handed out in the primetime telecast. That makes up fewer than 10% of the total, which means that a lot of the winners fell through the cracks. BTW, every award handed out on CBS went to a female artist - AKA Jann Wenner’s Worst Nightmare. She didn’t receive any of her awards on air, but Phoebe Bridgers was the biggest winner of the day. In addition to the 3 that she won as a member of boygenius, she also won a 4th as part of a collaboration with SZA. She was also disturbingly close to a knife-wielding ninja during SZA’s performance. It would have been a real downer for such a celebratory night to end with an accidental decapitation, but she made it home safely.
The show was highlighted by two of the most emotionally uplifting performances ever seen on the Grammys. It’s difficult for me to choose which of the two hit me harder. Both featured highly respected veterans who for one reason or another have spent a lot of recent time out of the spotlight. Both were very moving, evident from the reaction shots in the audience as well as from their collaborators.
I had seen a news item days earlier about Tracy Chapman’s appearance, so I wasn’t expecting to see that so many people were surprised to see her perform. That’s a good thing, because the reaction was incredible. She still sounds amazing, and she was practically glowing with joy. Duets between current stars and legends happen frequently on the Grammys, and it’s always interesting to see the dynamic between the two. In this case, Luke Combs fully ceded the spotlight to Chapman. This was her moment, and she earned it.
Most of the other performances were either relatively stripped down, such as Billie Eilish and Olivia Rodrigo, or elaborate productions, such as Dua Lipa or SZA. I found the U2 remote performance from Vegas to be a bit too much of a sensory overload. I don’t think TV can do justice to what the atmosphere at the Sphere is like, and the constant camera cuts were much too distracting.
The In Memoriam section was dignified, as always. In addition to the names scrolled on screen, special tribute performances were included for Tony Bennett, Sinead O’Connor, Clarence Avant, and Tina Turner. Two of these tributes merit special mention. It’s not easy to fully duplicate the Tina Turner Experience, but Fantasia Barrino sure came close. From the exquisitely growling vocals to the metallic dress to the replication of Turner’s twirls as Proud Mary transitioned to nice and rough, Fantasia honored Tina quite well. And Annie Lennox was a perfect choice for the Sinead tribute. Accompanied by Wendy & Lisa, Lennox added a line of silver makeup down one cheek to emulate O’Connor’s famous tears in the Nothing Compare 2 U video. And then not only did she do a sublime job on the song, but she ended it with a plea for peace. That sounds exactly like something that O’Connor herself would have done.
And then there was Joni. Her performance was so moving, and not just because as recently as two years ago it seemed impossible to think that she would ever sing in public again. There are only a small handful of artists who have the status that she has, as not just someone with a great body of work, but as someone who Means Something Special to so many people. The reaction shots of both the audience and the musicians that were playing with her showed people barely able to fight back tears. Mitchell wrote Both Sides Now and originally recorded it when she was in her early 20’s. It seems unreal that someone that young could have had so much wisdom and expressed it so beautifully. Now, an 80 year old Mitchell signing that same song brings something entirely different to the table. She faced death and laughed in its face. Her vocal range is nowhere near what it was, but you can hear every life experience in that voice. It sounds like an entirely different song now. This was a performance that will be talked about for years to come.
You have to feel bad for whoever it was that had to follow up that, and poor Travis Scott was the man who drew the short straw. Billy Joel wound up wrapping up the extravaganza, performing the first new song he had written in about 30 years. Not to be a hater, but it’s a bland, middle of the road ballad that most people will have forgotten about in six months. He did come back to perform You May Be Right as the show rolled the closing credits. That was a much better performance, that one jacked up the crowd enough to allow everyone to head home on a high note.
Shea Goodbye
Following up on Monday’s overview of the 2008 Mets season, the year ended with the official closing of Shea Stadium. I never bought into the “it’s a dump, but it’s OUR dump” narrative. Yes, there is always a certain amount of romanticism attached to your home park. But Shea’s time had come, and in its later years it had well earned that reputation as a dump. Besides, it wasn’t a historical landmark like Fenway or Wrigley that would have made it worth it to modernize within the existing footprint. And I was so frustrated by the fact that at game’s end the escalators were all shut down, meaning that the only exit was on narrow ramps that corralled the fans in such a way that it took forever to get out of that place. It would be one thing if it was a big win; that bottleneck created a great sense of community. But after a bad loss? You just wanted to leave that cursed place as quickly as possible. Not to make it sound like I hated the place. I have so many wonderful memories of Shea. That feeling when the 7 train made the turn past the stadium and you could briefly see a glimpse of outfield was a special one indeed.
There’s a basic template to the final game at a ballpark - invite back as many former players as you can and stage a grand celebration. These ceremonies are almost always held before the game, the Mets tried something a little different. The concept made sense; stage the ceremony after the game so that they could metaphorically close one stadium and open the new one that was built only a few feet away. The problem is that the team had playoff hopes; if everything had turned out right the last game of the regular season would not have been the final game after all. That’s not the way the season turned out, and the ceremony began with the fans in a gloomy mood, having just witnessed the culmination of a second consecutive late season collapse.
As a result, it took a few minutes for the crowd to really get into it. The format was that each player was introduced one at a time and walked from one of the bullpens to take his place on a baseline. The players were introduced chronologically, with the biggest stars held out until the climax. It was tough for anyone but the oldest fans to generate much enthusiasm for older players such as Frank Thomas or Jack Fisher, and it was starting to look like the ceremony was going to be a prolonged anticlimax.
And then, as bigger names began to emerge, the mild cheers gradually increased to roaring crescendos. It was finally hitting all of the proper emotional notes. By the time the last few players came out the place sounded as loud as it did during the 1986 World Series. I mean, I’m still getting all the feels 15 years later just from typing this out. It was wonderful; everyone from fan favorites such as Wayne Garrett to team stars such as Keith Hernandez to inner circle baseball legends Yogi Berra and Willie Mays.
Once all of the players were introduced, each one was given the opportunity to step on home plate one final time. Most simply did so and waved to the crowd, but a few added a special flare. Cleon Jones dropped to one knee, miming his final catch from the 1969 World Series. Bud Harrelson took a couple of steps and exuberantly made the “safe” call. Finally, almost all of the players walked towards the bullpen, giving high fives to fans in the front row along the way.
There was still one final order of business - the final pitch. Tom Seaver and Mike Piazza were the last two men remaining on the field. Seaver, the man forever known as The Franchise, threw that final pitch to Piazza, who years later would join Seaver as a Hall of Famer with a Mets cap on his plaque, and the roars from the crowd were even more deafening. The two walked together towards the center field fence, stopping intermittently to even more cheers. The house lights dimmed, making the atmosphere even more dramatic. They finally exited through that center field fence, symbolically closing the door on Shea as they walked towards CitiField. Even though the circumstances of the season’s close made it a bit awkward, it was a perfect closing ceremony.
And that was it for Shea. Because the stadium was built on marshland, it wasn’t possible to do an implosion. It needed to be gradually demolished. I could see the status every time I drove past it on the Grand Central Parkway, and it was odd to see it slowly disappear. The team sold off parts of the stadium, and I have to admit I was momentarily interested in buying a pair of old seats. But the cost was $869 - note the significance of the numbers in that price - did I really want to spend that much money on a pair of uncomfortable chairs? Of course not.
If there was a Shea Stadium artifact I would have really wanted it was something that had been long destroyed. I loved those old orange and blue steel panels that made up the building exterior for much of its early history. Unfortunately no one conceived that they would one day be worth something, so when they were removed years earlier they went straight to the scrapyard. On a related note, one of the landmarks in the stadium was a sign marking the spot in the left field upper deck where Tommie Agee had hit the longest home run in Shea history. The problem is that it was not a plaque; it was a sign painted directly onto the concrete. There wasn’t anything they could give to the Agee family, unless they were willing or able to accept a concrete slab that probably weighed around a ton.
They’re Network Stars, And They Battle!
I will complete my look at 1970’s television trash sports with what was arguably the pinnacle of the genre - Battle Of the Network Stars. That show was pure art; if a television show was ever worthy of a Nobel, this was the one. It debuted at the perfect sweet spot for me. I was 10 years old when the first edition aired, which meant that I could nervously watch it as if it were a real, high stakes athletic competition. At the time, almost all of my favorite shows aired on ABC, so you’re damn right that I had rooting interest in the results.
Borrowing from the Superstars/Superteams format, Battle consisted of a series of semi-annual competitions (aired during sweeps weeks) of teams filled with stars from the 3 networks. It was the standard series of events - assorted relay races, the obstacle course, etc. - culminating with a winner take all tug of war between the two teams that had accumulated the most points. Unlike the Superstars, which had made the obstacle course, and its bloopers, as the signature event, BOTNS had its own featured event which created legends.
The show was so memorable due to a unique alchemy that can not be duplicated in the modern era. Remove any of its elements and it does not work, which has been proven with any attempt to revive the show. American culture has an odd mix of puritanism and adolescent titillation, and there were few times when that mentality was as prevalent as it was in the 70’s. It was the age of jiggle TV, and Battle was a prime example. The earliest editions aired before the development of the sports bra. One of the events was 3 on 3 football, with a male quarterback and two female receivers. You can bet that show producers constantly ran slow motion replays of the actresses bouncing their way downfield while running out a pass pattern.
Don’t forget Robert Conrad. He captained the NBC team multiple times, and he was a borderline sociopath. Think of the most psychotically competitive person you know. Then, triple that person’s intensity. That should give you an idea as to how much of a maniac he was. The moment everyone remembers is the grudge match in the first edition between Conrad & ABC captain Gabe Kaplan. It is such an amazing time capsule, from the fact that they actually got so many massive stars to participate, to the sheer lack of political correctness, to the cigarette smoking in the middle of an athletic competition, to Conrad’s patronizing smack on Kaplan’s face after it ended. As always, the legitimacy of the event is very much in question. How much of it was real, and how much of it was for show? Look at this race one more time. They ran on the curve, with no stagger. Kaplan actually had to run for several more yards than Conrad did, yet still won easily. I’m not sure if that passes the smell test.
But do not discount Howard Cosell’s contribution. The wrong voice behind the mic could have ruined everything. He recognized it for the silliness that it was, and you can clearly hear a bit of a mischievous tone in his voice. Yet, he still broadcast the event as if it were important. His absence was so felt when he left ABC. On one of the final editions Dick Van Dyke and Joan Van Ark were the broadcast team, and they treated it as a farce. To be fair, it was, but if you’re telling the audience that they’re watching nonsense, they’ll believe it. OK, Cosell seemed to have a bizarre obsession with Scott Baio, but a Battle without Howard Cosell is not a genuine Battle.
I’ve obviously buried the lede, however. We all know what is the first thing everyone thinks of when the Battle comes up in conversation, and that is the softball dunk. Simple enough concept, borrowing from the carnival game. Competitors from each network take turns tossing softballs at the target, with a rival from the opposite gender sitting on a swing taunting/distracting the thrower, yet ready to plunge into the water if the target is hit. The ancient Egyptians may have built the pyramids, the ancient Greeks may have invented government, but only America could have come up with Randi Oakes in the dunk tank. There’s a reason why men of a certain age still remember the 4th or 5th banana on CHiPs. The dunk tank was the lowest common denominator portion of what was already a lowest common denominator TV show, but that’s the 70’s for you.
It was clearly a show of its time, which is why every attempt to revive it has failed. In addition to the factors that I described above, there are so many more outlets these days in which celebrities can forge their image. There’s nothing to be gained by potentially embarrassing themselves in something like this. The most recent revival came a few years back as part of ABC’s reintroduction of old game shows in their summer prime time programming. It was a dud, instead of network against network, the format was TV doctors against TV lawyers or things of that extent. Worse, many of the stars were in their 60’s or older. You don’t exactly tune into this for intense athletic competition, but you would still want to expect better than seeing people decades past their physical peak attempting to maneuver the obstacle course. It was just sad. The revival only lasted one year. Unless a medium can find a way to resurrect Cosell and Conrad, Battle Of the Network Stars is best left in the past. Sadly, kids these days will never be able to fully appreciate what they missed out on.
Closing Laughs
Hey everyone, Bluesky has exited the beta stage, & it is now available for all. No need for invite codes. If you haven’t already, dive into that pool. Elon’s Sandbox won’t die until there is a true viable alternative. See you all again on Friday.