Wednesday’s Observations
Swimming In The Wake
Of this year’s inductees into the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame, The Spinners just might have the largest number of similar artists that could join them one day, yet at the same time virtually all of those acts are unlikely to do so. The factors that caused The Spinners to wait as long as they did for induction are the same ones that are more likely to shut the door behind them.
For whatever reason, Hall voters decided that 1970s R&B doesn’t have much of a place in the institution. Other than the O’Jays, inducted artists from this decade have roots more in the funk realm than in the classic R&B singing from the previous era. My personal feeling is that the Hall needs to constantly move forward when it comes to who they honor. By this point, the only 1970s acts they should continue to look at are those that come from underrepresented genres - such as 70s soul.
Not that I’m holding my breath, but there are loads of 70s acts with strong enough profiles to at least merit consideration. The Stylistics and The Chi-Lites both have multiple classic hits that have stood the test of time long enough to become modern day standards. They’re certainly more deserving than The Dells. Or, if you would prefer to focus on those that match The Spinners’ Philly Soul profile, how about Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes? I could also see an argument made for The Pointer Sisters. Another strong candidate who likely has zero chance would be The Commodores. I did not like Lionel Richie’s induction as a solo artist. He’s had a handful of highlights - All Night Long has got a perfect groove - but too much of his solo output consists of bland, interchangeable middle of the road ballads. Inducting him instead as a member of The Commodores would have acknowledged the band that produced Brick House while still honoring Lionel Richie.
If I were to narrow it done to one band that would be the best match for The Spinners I would go with Kool & The Gang. Yes, they also started to devolve into formula as they moved further into the 80s, but their largely instrumental funk era produced plenty of absolute killer tracks. Once singer James Taylor (not THAT a James Taylor) joined, they grew increasingly mainstream, but their sheer volume of work adds up. I wouldn’t call them a no-doubter, but they deserve to have their case heard.
And Now.. We Wait
The next few weeks figure to remain quiet as far as the Hall is concerned. The ceremony takes place in November; the big question is which outlet will broadcast or stream the event, as HBO’s contract has expired. Generally names of performers and presenters start to get released a few weeks before the ceremony, but last year show organizers didn’t reveal any names beforehand in the hope of filling the evening with surprises. It’s possible they’ll use the same tactic this year. It’s pretty safe to conjecture that Elton John will induct Bernie Taupin, but beyond that it’s anyone’s guess. I’ll certainly keep my eyes and ears open. As a side note, there’s a small possibility that the ongoing strikes could have an affect on the ceremony, but since the evening consists of speeches and musical performances, there’s not any guild-written material. Everyone is obviously hopeful that both strikes will be settled by November, but even if they’re not, I don’t see a reason why anyone would need to picket the ceremony.
The Destruction Of College Sports
I don’t think I’m being overly hyperbolic here, and in this instance I am going to fully channel all of my “back in my day” and grouchy old man ravings. As predictable as the demise of the PAC-12 might have been, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s been the inevitable culmination of years of picking at the thread of college sports. Universities may be receiving millions of dollars for football rights from the networks in their coffers, but at what cost?
Let me start by saying that the NCAA basketball tournament (both men’s and women’s) is my single favorite annual sporting event. Even in years in which the championship game turns out to be a letdown, the early round games never fail to deliver. I still fully intend to watch as much of the tournaments as I’m able to. I may hate what the university presidents and trustees are doing, but I’m not going to let them take that away from me.
What’s less likely is that I’ll spend much time watching regular season games. The long-standing conference alignments used to make geographic sense. The drastic realignments are not only forcing kids, who are theoretically supposed to be college students, to spend huge chunks of their time traveling, but we are losing so many traditional rivalries. There are too many examples of in-state rivals now suddenly finding themselves in different conferences and now less likely to face each other annually. And it’s not just the power conferences. My alma mater is a member of the Atlantic-10 conference. Not only does that league contain 15 teams, but one of the member schools is St. Louis. Just in case it’s been a while since you’ve carefully examined a map, St. Louis is NOT within walking distance of the Atlantic Ocean.
And did any of the officials who signed off on these deals take any time to consider what it means for the non-revenue sports? How can, say, a volleyball player from UCLA spend time traveling as far away as Rutgers and still be able to maintain some semblance of a normal college life? Frequent time zone adjustments have got to take a toll on one’s mental and physical wellbeing, never mind how difficult it would be to keep up academically if a “student” is spending more time in airports and hotel rooms than in classrooms and libraries.
The dissolution of the PAC-12 brings back bad flashbacks of what happened to the old SWC some years back. There’s been a lot of snark about the “Conference Of Champions” branding, but it’s also true that the likes of Stanford and Cal have been long dominant in many of the Olympic sports on the collegiate level. I’m not sure how well these schools will be able to maintain that level of success.
I Remember When They Used To Be The Yankees
This has been a, how shall we call it, suboptimal season for the Mets but the other team in this town hasn’t exactly put together a year for the time capsule. If anything, the combo of institutional arrogance and mismanagement suggests that the team could be on the verge of sinking into a depth they have not seen since the early 90s, back when George Steinbrenner was impulsively acquiring every big name player in his eyesight and threatening to move the club to New Jersey.
The Core Four Era Yankees had a tremendous built in advantage. They could supplement their homegrown talent with every available free agent they set their sets on. There was a long stretch in which they were seemingly the only club willing to spend money, and under no circumstances would they lose a bidding war. Unlimited budgets + ring chasing culture + the reality that a significant number of players grew up as Yankees and were therefore eager to don the pinstripes adds up to a formula ideal for achieving sustaining success.
That’s not the case anymore. There is plenty of competition nowadays in the frenzy to sign high cost talent. And as deranged as Steinbrenner often was, there was no doubt that he was addicted to winning. Hal Steinbrenner does not share that same trait. Sure, he wants to win but it’s not as all-consuming for him. And since success has spoiled the fanbase, simply qualifying for the playoffs every year isn’t good enough. Recent years almost feel like a failure, and everyone seems eager to fire Aaron Boone and/or Brian Cashman. To be fair, Cashman in particular has perhaps gotten a bit too complacent. It may very well be time for some new blood to grab the helm.
Nothing illustrates the current state of the franchise more than how they have handled Anthony Rizzo. The sport has come a long way from the days when the Mets had Ryan Church fly cross country the day after he suffered a concussion, so that makes it hard to believe that the Yankees raised no red flags when Rizzo entered a prolonged slump at the exact moment he suffered a neck injury in a collision. Hindsight is 20/20, but was there no one in the team’s medical staff to raise his hand and point out that A might have caused B? In addition, the roster is filled with high payed veterans who are either rapidly declining, injury prone, or both, making their contracts difficult to trade away. I’d never completely count this franchise out, but there is a clear danger that they may be entering a severe rough patch. Aaron Judge and Gerrit Cole can only do so much.
Not Exactly The Orioles Way
As much as I love to blast James Dolan, and as much as I cringe at the memories of Fred Wilpon, the competition for Worst Owner In American Team Sports is constantly overflowing with candidates. The criteria are subjective, but the Angelos family in Baltimore have been running near the top of the standings for quite a few years. Family patriarch Peter Angelos has spent as little money on the team as possible, with predictably poor on field performances resulting from his austerity. He has stepped away from running the club as he has grown increasingly infirm with his advancing age, but his failsons continue to keep the tradition alive.
There have been ugly lawsuits (finally settled this past spring) within the family as his heirs are battling for control, which has made the team somewhat of an embarrassment, even as the club is showing signs of finally emerging from the primordial ooze and looks to have a promising future. But ownership can’t avoid tripping over its own feet, with John Angelos picking an unnecessary fight which has only served to make him look like a small man.
Awful Announcing reported on Monday that Orioles play-by-play man Kevin Brown has been on an indefinite suspension. His sin? He mentioned in a broadcast that the Orioles have won as many games against Tampa Bay this year that they had in the previous 3 seasons combined. It was a simple statement of fact, used to show how rapidly the team is improving. He wasn’t going rogue, either. That tidbit was included in the pregame notes that Baltimore’s PR staff sent to the media, and the club-owned TV network had a pre-made graphic with that same info. But that somehow ticked off Angelos, and Brown was removed from the airwaves.
The blowback has been immediate, and has come from all sides. Brown’s colleagues across the sport were quick to come to his defense and several spoke on his behalf during the slate of Monday night games. And additional reports came out reminding everyone the obnoxious ways that ownership micromanages their broadcasts, from the long ago firing of Jon Miller to a recent suspension of one of their radio broadcasters. Why? Because he wasn’t wearing team apparel. In the radio booth. You read that right.
Kevin Brown figures to come out alright in the end. He is one of the rising names in the business, already receiving plum assignments at ESPN. Angelos, meanwhile, comes across looking impetuous, vindictive, and thin-skinned. He is tarnishing what should be one of the feel-good stories of this season. Those of us old enough to fondly remember that long run of perennial contention the Orioles enjoyed during the era that ran from Brooks Robinson & Jim Palmer all the way through to Eddie Murray & Cal Ripken Jr. have taken pleasure in seeing the franchise return to prominence. Leave it to an owner to screw it all up.
Supposedly Brown will be back on the air this weekend. In the meantime, Orioles fans had their say. In last night’s game a “free Kevin Brown!” chant started up in the 7th inning. Well played.
William Friedkin 1935-2023
I can’t really add much to what’s already been said about William Friedkin following his death. The French Connection/The Exorcist/Sorcerer is a damn impressive back-to-back-to-back filmography. He was an irascible guy, which could be part of the reason why we wasn’t as prolific later on in his career as many of his contemporaries from that New Hollywood period that he was a prominent part of. If I can recommend one of his lesser known works it would be a remake of 12 Angry Men done for Showtime in 1997 which starred Jack Lemmon and George C. Scott. Among the other jurors were Courtney B. Vance, a pre-Sopranos James Gandolfini, and Tony Danza, whose character I believe was named Juror # Tony. It’s worth seeking out.
Friedkin was the first of that generation of filmmakers to win the Best Director Oscar, picking up the trophy for helming The French Connection. RIP to one of the greats from a magnificent era of American film.
Until Next Time
That’s all for today, thanks for stopping by this corner of The Internets. See you all again on Friday.