It’s happened yet again.
A professional athlete has come out and stated – clearly, and for the public record – that he is insulted by a contract offer that he has received.
The player in question is All-Pro cornerback Ty Law of the defending NFL Super Bowl Champion New England Patriots.
The actual monetary details won’t mean much to most of us – but for the record, he has turned down a contract extension offer of almost 30 million dollars over the next four years, and was evidently insulted, in his words, by the Patriots offer. He now says he never wants to play for the Patriots again. His current contact already calls for him to make over 6 million in 2004, more than 8 million in 2005.
I recall a time many years ago – I believe it was the late 1970/early 80’s. A top major league relief pitcher/closer by the name of Bruce Sutter was offered the then staggering amount of $700,000 a season.
His reaction? He said he was insulted. He had to, he said at the time, feed his family.
So we fast forward more than 20 years later, and such insult comes at a higher price, at least.
The hockey world is now battling ‘image’ problems in the wake of the (rightly so) highly publicized Todd Bertuzzi incident. But the problem facing hockey is not simply a matter of its often misguided ‘eye for eye’ system of justice and self-policing.
It is also the reality that the people who play the game are becoming more and more disconnected from the “fans” and those who really care about the game – the very people who help pay for those same players to play the game and earn their substantial incomes.
Salaries have spun totally, totally out of the realm of what ought to be. Not surprisingly, the cost of purchasing a ticket to see an NHL game in many markets is prohibitive for the “average” person.
Fighting – or causing – the same cycle is baseball, still struggling to recapture its luster and popularity in many markets almost 10 years after a disastrous strike/lockout.
And now we hear about football players who are “insulted” by offers that would provide them with more money than they could possibly spend in several lifetimes.
Basketball has long overpaid its athletes. (Recall that Kevin Garnett of the Minnesota Timberwolves, who has been earning millions since he was 18 years of age, was also “insulted” a few years ago by a 120 million dollar contract offer.)
How did we get here? How did we reach a point where these – albeit very talented, in most cases – individuals truly believe they are worth millions and millions of dollars – per season! – to play a game they love to play.
A few years ago, in a comment that was not as publicized as it should have been, a very popular NHL (and NHL Players Association leader) player was asked about the high cost of tickets for the average dad. His reply was, in essence: “If that dad can’t afford it, maybe he shouldn’t be taking his kids to a game”.
Hmm...
Does that sound like someone even remotely connected to reality? Someone with any sense of perspective? Yet this is a player lauded for his “community work”.
Much more recently, a prominent member of one of the most popular Canadian-based NHL teams said he was prepared to “sit out” for the rest of his career, before accepting any kind of salary cap in the upcoming round of collective bargaining with the league. (This player makes close to three million dollars a year, and will expect much more in his next contract.)
After his advisors likely informed him just how bad that comment sounded to fans everywhere and anywhere, the player tried to modify his comments the next day, too late to hide his true feelings.
Perhaps it could be said that these individuals are at least ‘being honest’ and are not simply giving pat, typical responses to media questions. But in the same breath, are these really the types of messages and attitudes these athletes want to convey to the public? Do they somehow think that saying these kinds of things will engender public sympathy or support? Are they so disconnected because of their high profile and wealth they don’t understand how poorly they are coming across?
Or do they just not care?
Sadly, riches can lead to a certain headiness, a lack or loss of perspective. Only when we are touched by significant loss of prestige or income, or by tragedy, illness, a sudden loss of a loved one, do some individuals regain balance in their life.
One wonders if many athletes, past and present, worked half as hard, and showed half as much appreciation for their good fortune as, for example, the average Special Olympics athlete does, how many of them would feel “insulted” by being offered a contract that makes them wealthy beyond anyone’s wildest imagination?
Monday, March 1, 2004
Sunday, February 1, 2004
Is It Really Worth Saying?
The examples are too many to cite, but here are a few:
Days before a crucial late season NCAA college football game in November 2003 between arch-rivals Michigan State and the Michigan Wolverines – a game that could determine who went to the Rose Bowl – a Michigan State defensive lineman publicly called out the Wolverines quarterback and offensive line.
It was later disclosed, not surprisingly, that the comments from Greg Taplin had become bulletin board material for the Michigan offensive line. The game was a fairly lopsided Michigan victory, and their offensive line dominated Taplin and the State defensive line all afternoon.
The Indianapolis Colts were outstanding in the first two games of the 2003 NFL playoffs. Their success shed the club – and its All-Pro quarterback Peyton Manning, who played brilliantly in both games – of its label as playoff failures, a club that could not play its best when it really mattered.
Not content to let their play speak for itself, Indy tight end Marcus Pollard was quoted as saying (only days before the Colts were to face New England in the AFC Championship game in Foxborough, Massachusetts): “If we keep playing like this, they might as well give us our Super Bowl rings right now.”
Of course, football fans – and Colt fans – know only too well that the Patriots defense overwhelmed, outperformed and almost completely shut down Manning, Pollard and the Colts as the Pats won handily.
Ex-Chicago Bull Jalen Rose, now with the Toronto Raptors, went back to Chicago in late January, 2004 to play the Bulls in the Windy City for the first time since he was traded. He was quoted as saying, before the game, that he was looking forward to playing his ex-team, and evidently noted, “The Bulls are the worst team in basketball.”
Of course, the Bulls hammered the Raptors convincingly, which makes it difficult to assess, in light of Rose’s pre-game analysis, what the Raptors now are.
Of course, these stories are hardly uncommon in the world of sports. It is a world full unbelievably talented athletes, many remarkably dedicated.
It is also a world full of bravado, testosterone, WWE-style posing after dunks and end-zone celebrations.
It is not surprising that athletes will, on occasion, predict their own success. In fact, when their words turn prophetic, as was the case in 1969 when Jets quarterback Joe Namath called his shot before the Super Bowl and (correctly) guaranteed a win against the heavily-favored Colts, he was the swashbuckling sports hero of the highest order. The game ultimately earned him Hall-of-Fame honors for a career that was otherwise very solid, but not extraordinary, other than for its flamboyance.
That said, when bold athletes speak out and promote themselves or trash their opponents before “the big game”, there are way, way more stories that end up exactly the way things did for Taplin, Pollard and Rose than for Namath.
There is no doubt that the media, particularly beat reporters who cover any given professional team in sports markets across North America, love it when an athlete steps beyond the often tightly-controlled club house environment and says something beyond, “….we played as a team, gave 100%, left it on the field, etc…”
Great – especially controversial – quotes make for stories that write themselves and properly highlighted, increase readership or viewership and ultimately circulation. From a business perspective, anything out of the boring, plaid, milquetoast norm creates headlines, sells well, and potentially increases revenues for the media outlets serving up the stories.
Athletes may say bold, unexpected or colorful things for a whole host of reasons: they let their guard down; they wanted to send a message to their coach, their teammates or the opposition; they’re tired of saying the same old, same old.
But sometimes athletes say things simply because they don’t take a second to consider the consequences. Not that providing fuel for the opposition is a particular tragedy, even in the world of sports, but since winning does matter at the pro level, giving your opponent extra motivation seems like an ineffective strategy in the vast majority of cases. History backs that up.
There are also times that athletes likely feel pushed to break out of their self or team-imposed “box”, usually by the media who often complain that too many athletes have nothing to say.
That is why reporters tend to love, in the hockey world, a Brett Hull or Jeremy Roenick, because they rarely miss a chance to air a view on any number of subjects, whether it is particularly well-thought out or not.
(After hockey superstar Joe Sakic of the Avalanche appeared on the Jim Rome show some time back, a Toronto-based hockey columnist wrote in a major publication: “…the interview demonstrated once again one of the problems selling of hockey in the U.S. Hockey players, unlike many other athletes, almost always are dry and boring interviews, even if they are probably the most sincere guys in sport. Unfortunately, the way sport sells nowadays is by trash talking and being controversial. But other than Brett Hull, hockey guys just aren’t up to it.”
Yet most athletes have not built up the ‘media equity’ that superstars like Hull and Roenick have built up, (whereby when those players make comments that some may feel are out of line, the media will not condemn them, but will usually put their comments in a, “oh, that’s just Brett talking again..” context).
Most athletes, as in the Sakic example, face the pressure of being called bland, boring, of having nothing of consequence to say.
Yet, if they do take that risk and say something out of the ordinary, the media will generally be the first to slap them into place.
What to do?
Every athlete, like any individual, must of course follow their own comfort levels, their sense of what they want to project, how they want to come across and how they wish to be perceived -- if it that matters to them.
Somewhere between bravado and blandness there is often the opportunity to provide the ever-eager media, who need a story a day and quotes to build their story line, whatever it is, with thoughtful comments. Either thoughtful reflections upon a particular game, analysis at a level beyond “we gave 100%”, or when the opportunity arises, a peek inside, comments that reveal something about the values that that individual athlete may genuinely hold dear.
Once an athlete is known for being accessible, patient, responsive, and having something beyond the bland to contribute – in good times and in difficult times – he or she becomes golden to most reporters – who might prefer something sensational, but will at least respect a thoughtful approach instead.
Days before a crucial late season NCAA college football game in November 2003 between arch-rivals Michigan State and the Michigan Wolverines – a game that could determine who went to the Rose Bowl – a Michigan State defensive lineman publicly called out the Wolverines quarterback and offensive line.
It was later disclosed, not surprisingly, that the comments from Greg Taplin had become bulletin board material for the Michigan offensive line. The game was a fairly lopsided Michigan victory, and their offensive line dominated Taplin and the State defensive line all afternoon.
The Indianapolis Colts were outstanding in the first two games of the 2003 NFL playoffs. Their success shed the club – and its All-Pro quarterback Peyton Manning, who played brilliantly in both games – of its label as playoff failures, a club that could not play its best when it really mattered.
Not content to let their play speak for itself, Indy tight end Marcus Pollard was quoted as saying (only days before the Colts were to face New England in the AFC Championship game in Foxborough, Massachusetts): “If we keep playing like this, they might as well give us our Super Bowl rings right now.”
Of course, football fans – and Colt fans – know only too well that the Patriots defense overwhelmed, outperformed and almost completely shut down Manning, Pollard and the Colts as the Pats won handily.
Ex-Chicago Bull Jalen Rose, now with the Toronto Raptors, went back to Chicago in late January, 2004 to play the Bulls in the Windy City for the first time since he was traded. He was quoted as saying, before the game, that he was looking forward to playing his ex-team, and evidently noted, “The Bulls are the worst team in basketball.”
Of course, the Bulls hammered the Raptors convincingly, which makes it difficult to assess, in light of Rose’s pre-game analysis, what the Raptors now are.
Of course, these stories are hardly uncommon in the world of sports. It is a world full unbelievably talented athletes, many remarkably dedicated.
It is also a world full of bravado, testosterone, WWE-style posing after dunks and end-zone celebrations.
It is not surprising that athletes will, on occasion, predict their own success. In fact, when their words turn prophetic, as was the case in 1969 when Jets quarterback Joe Namath called his shot before the Super Bowl and (correctly) guaranteed a win against the heavily-favored Colts, he was the swashbuckling sports hero of the highest order. The game ultimately earned him Hall-of-Fame honors for a career that was otherwise very solid, but not extraordinary, other than for its flamboyance.
That said, when bold athletes speak out and promote themselves or trash their opponents before “the big game”, there are way, way more stories that end up exactly the way things did for Taplin, Pollard and Rose than for Namath.
There is no doubt that the media, particularly beat reporters who cover any given professional team in sports markets across North America, love it when an athlete steps beyond the often tightly-controlled club house environment and says something beyond, “….we played as a team, gave 100%, left it on the field, etc…”
Great – especially controversial – quotes make for stories that write themselves and properly highlighted, increase readership or viewership and ultimately circulation. From a business perspective, anything out of the boring, plaid, milquetoast norm creates headlines, sells well, and potentially increases revenues for the media outlets serving up the stories.
Athletes may say bold, unexpected or colorful things for a whole host of reasons: they let their guard down; they wanted to send a message to their coach, their teammates or the opposition; they’re tired of saying the same old, same old.
But sometimes athletes say things simply because they don’t take a second to consider the consequences. Not that providing fuel for the opposition is a particular tragedy, even in the world of sports, but since winning does matter at the pro level, giving your opponent extra motivation seems like an ineffective strategy in the vast majority of cases. History backs that up.
There are also times that athletes likely feel pushed to break out of their self or team-imposed “box”, usually by the media who often complain that too many athletes have nothing to say.
That is why reporters tend to love, in the hockey world, a Brett Hull or Jeremy Roenick, because they rarely miss a chance to air a view on any number of subjects, whether it is particularly well-thought out or not.
(After hockey superstar Joe Sakic of the Avalanche appeared on the Jim Rome show some time back, a Toronto-based hockey columnist wrote in a major publication: “…the interview demonstrated once again one of the problems selling of hockey in the U.S. Hockey players, unlike many other athletes, almost always are dry and boring interviews, even if they are probably the most sincere guys in sport. Unfortunately, the way sport sells nowadays is by trash talking and being controversial. But other than Brett Hull, hockey guys just aren’t up to it.”
Yet most athletes have not built up the ‘media equity’ that superstars like Hull and Roenick have built up, (whereby when those players make comments that some may feel are out of line, the media will not condemn them, but will usually put their comments in a, “oh, that’s just Brett talking again..” context).
Most athletes, as in the Sakic example, face the pressure of being called bland, boring, of having nothing of consequence to say.
Yet, if they do take that risk and say something out of the ordinary, the media will generally be the first to slap them into place.
What to do?
Every athlete, like any individual, must of course follow their own comfort levels, their sense of what they want to project, how they want to come across and how they wish to be perceived -- if it that matters to them.
Somewhere between bravado and blandness there is often the opportunity to provide the ever-eager media, who need a story a day and quotes to build their story line, whatever it is, with thoughtful comments. Either thoughtful reflections upon a particular game, analysis at a level beyond “we gave 100%”, or when the opportunity arises, a peek inside, comments that reveal something about the values that that individual athlete may genuinely hold dear.
Once an athlete is known for being accessible, patient, responsive, and having something beyond the bland to contribute – in good times and in difficult times – he or she becomes golden to most reporters – who might prefer something sensational, but will at least respect a thoughtful approach instead.
Monday, December 1, 2003
Comrie and Communication
It took many, many weeks, but former Edmonton Oiler center Mike Comrie was finally traded recently. However, he was not traded to the team (Anaheim) that thought it had made the deal with Edmonton.
Once the transaction with the Philadelphia Flyers was finally formally consummated, Comrie – who for reasons most people don’t fully understand had seen his relationship with the Oilers organization nosedive horribly – was quoted as saying something that sounded simple, but was likely quite revealing.
Said Comrie, “I guess one of the bigger issues that we had was our lack of communication.”
Clearly, something unraveled between Comrie’s “camp” (agent, advisors) and the management of the club that he had once dreamt of playing for.
None of us on the outside really knows what happened, but Comrie’s own words suggest a likely problem area.
People in that volatile mix (a team trying to build a competitive team within a tight budget, a young player trying to fully maximize his “worth”) likely stopped communicating in a way that was helpful and positive. And then they probably stopped communicating at all.
“Communication” can mean means lots of different things, of course.
There is the ability to communicate, for example, and more precisely the ability to communicate well, thoughtfully and articulately.
Then there is the willingness to communicate.
Once two parties – whether in a workplace relationship, or in a personal relationship, for example—are unwilling to communicate, getting to a level where people can actually communicate effectively is impossible.
You’ve got to be at least willing to talk, before you can talk thoughtfully and in a responsive manner—and in a manner which might lead to understanding and agreement, or at least compromise.
Of course, it’s usually the case that before people hit the stage where they are no longer willing to talk, they did indeed communicate. It’s just that their communication likely grew more frustrating, more distant and less productive.
Is there a perfect way to deal with such stalemates in the sports world? Likely not. But it is important, at a minimum, to keep the lines of communication open.
On occasion, a team owner throws out protocol and goes over the head of his own General Manager, and simultaneously slides past the player’s agent to phone a player directly to see if the relationship can be saved, beyond whatever financial considerations have to be hammered out.
This was apparently the case in Texas a few years ago, when catcher Ivan Rodriguez was about to opt for free agency, but was won back by the ball club because he was overcome by the gesture of the team owner. Money (as large as the amount was) was not as important to the player as the fact that the owner wanted him to stay.
But such interventions don’t always work.
Good communication can heal, but poor communication can also create harm to a relationship that can last a very long time.
On a related front, how does one assess what happened in talks between the Oilers and the Mighty Ducks, in the very same (Comrie) matter?
One General Manager says publicly he was certain he had a “verbal” deal. The other says just as adamantly that he made it perfectly clear there was no Comrie deal in place until certain things took place.
Was this a case of poor communication? Poor listening skills? Or a person wanting to hear what he wanted to hear or the other GM wanting to be heard in the way that he wanted to be heard?
Whatever, it happens too often in sport at many levels -- from the 10-year old level to the pros -- that things are said that indeed hurt or wound in some fashion. A comment from a coach or a team official can sting and the feelings that result are often never really dealt with in an open and healthy fashion.
At the professional level, the demand for a trade can be brought on by many things: Playing time. Pride. Money. Hurt feelings.
But one of the things that often crops up after the fact as the real ‘trigger’ is unhappiness relating to poor communication between player and coach.
And it doesn’t always have to be that way.
Once the transaction with the Philadelphia Flyers was finally formally consummated, Comrie – who for reasons most people don’t fully understand had seen his relationship with the Oilers organization nosedive horribly – was quoted as saying something that sounded simple, but was likely quite revealing.
Said Comrie, “I guess one of the bigger issues that we had was our lack of communication.”
Clearly, something unraveled between Comrie’s “camp” (agent, advisors) and the management of the club that he had once dreamt of playing for.
None of us on the outside really knows what happened, but Comrie’s own words suggest a likely problem area.
People in that volatile mix (a team trying to build a competitive team within a tight budget, a young player trying to fully maximize his “worth”) likely stopped communicating in a way that was helpful and positive. And then they probably stopped communicating at all.
“Communication” can mean means lots of different things, of course.
There is the ability to communicate, for example, and more precisely the ability to communicate well, thoughtfully and articulately.
Then there is the willingness to communicate.
Once two parties – whether in a workplace relationship, or in a personal relationship, for example—are unwilling to communicate, getting to a level where people can actually communicate effectively is impossible.
You’ve got to be at least willing to talk, before you can talk thoughtfully and in a responsive manner—and in a manner which might lead to understanding and agreement, or at least compromise.
Of course, it’s usually the case that before people hit the stage where they are no longer willing to talk, they did indeed communicate. It’s just that their communication likely grew more frustrating, more distant and less productive.
Is there a perfect way to deal with such stalemates in the sports world? Likely not. But it is important, at a minimum, to keep the lines of communication open.
On occasion, a team owner throws out protocol and goes over the head of his own General Manager, and simultaneously slides past the player’s agent to phone a player directly to see if the relationship can be saved, beyond whatever financial considerations have to be hammered out.
This was apparently the case in Texas a few years ago, when catcher Ivan Rodriguez was about to opt for free agency, but was won back by the ball club because he was overcome by the gesture of the team owner. Money (as large as the amount was) was not as important to the player as the fact that the owner wanted him to stay.
But such interventions don’t always work.
Good communication can heal, but poor communication can also create harm to a relationship that can last a very long time.
On a related front, how does one assess what happened in talks between the Oilers and the Mighty Ducks, in the very same (Comrie) matter?
One General Manager says publicly he was certain he had a “verbal” deal. The other says just as adamantly that he made it perfectly clear there was no Comrie deal in place until certain things took place.
Was this a case of poor communication? Poor listening skills? Or a person wanting to hear what he wanted to hear or the other GM wanting to be heard in the way that he wanted to be heard?
Whatever, it happens too often in sport at many levels -- from the 10-year old level to the pros -- that things are said that indeed hurt or wound in some fashion. A comment from a coach or a team official can sting and the feelings that result are often never really dealt with in an open and healthy fashion.
At the professional level, the demand for a trade can be brought on by many things: Playing time. Pride. Money. Hurt feelings.
But one of the things that often crops up after the fact as the real ‘trigger’ is unhappiness relating to poor communication between player and coach.
And it doesn’t always have to be that way.
Saturday, November 1, 2003
Turning a Negative into a Bigger Negative
It was, presumably, an effort to spread the basketball gospel to the far reaches of Canada, and to “give something back” to the community that is home to the “farm” team of the National Hockey League Toronto Maple Leafs.
The ‘effort’ was the decision by Maple Leafs Sports & Entertainment to have the NBA team that that entity owns, the Raptors, play an exhibition game at the home of the St. John’s (Newfoundland) hockey Leafs, Mile One Stadium.
Wonderful thought, and particularly appealing to the local sports fans, no doubt, given that the opposition was the once-lowly Cleveland Cavaliers, now a team with the highest-profile rookie to come into the NBA in years, young LeBron James.
As fate (or lack of proper preparation) would have it, with a full house watching, it evidently became clear that condensation on the temporary playing floor would not allow the teams to play safely. The Raptors, and the NBA, determined that conditions were unsafe and called the game off.
Amazingly, Raptors officials actually herded the players from the teams out of the building BEFORE letting the crowd know the game would be cancelled.
It was a stunning display of arrogance, and a classic case of turning a negative into an even bigger negative.
Presented with what was, in effect, an opportunity, Raptors officials could have, from a “public relations” perspective at the very least, if nothing else, (or simply because it would have been the right thing to do) handled this situation very differently.
With thousands of moms and dads and youngsters on hand to see their first-ever, and possibly only-ever NBA “game”, the players skulked out of the building-- caught by TV cameras, but not so noticed by the poor fans.
Did any of the Raptors officials think about another way of handling this situation, other than General Manager Glen Grunwald lamely offering to return to Newfoundland “within two years”?
Perhaps a slam-dunk contest was out of the question, given the potentially slippery conditions. But how about a three-point shooting contest to entertain the fans?
Maybe an impromptu “Question & Answer” session with young LeBron James, or Raps star Vince Carter, holding a microphone in their hands at center court and kids having an opportunity to ask questions?
Or a quick ticket stub “raffle” to offer a chance to at least a few fans to take photos with/of their favorite players?
Or better still, with the allotted time still available and everyone already there (even though the game was delayed, they were supposed to be playing an entire game, after all), how about asking (insisting?) that each one of the players on both teams spend some time in the stands, signing autographs?
Oh yes, a few of the multi-million dollar athletes might have had to walk up a few flights of stairs to get to the top of the small arena, but one senses they are in good enough shape to handle the task.
Any of these things would have brought a smile to the faces of youngsters, many of whom had been thinking about this night for weeks and weeks.
Any of the above would have given a sign, a glimpse of hope, that today’s professional athletes are not totally out of touch with the “average fan” – and that MLSE management, accustomed to charging ridiculously high amounts for sometimes middlish entertainment value at the Air Canada Center in Toronto – was not equally out of touch.
Any of the above would have turned a mess into a positive experience for many of those on hand.
Instead, in their wisdom, Raptor officials determined that the precious players were somehow at risk of a hostile reaction from the crowd.
Rather than actively doing something positive, they ran out the back of the building, literally (while unsuspecting volunteers, many of them youngsters, were still trying to help dry off the floor).
Sometimes, when you don’t “do” much of anything, as the Raptors officials did not, you are really “communicating” a lot.
And by implying that the St. John’s sports faithful, of all people, might have reacted badly was dead wrong, and also missed the point.
All they wanted was to see the players a little, see them up close, and see them as real people, not small distant figures on a TV screen.
The Raptors had a chance to take an unfortunate circumstance and do something really neat, and they failed on all counts.
Perhaps what is most disappointing is that –tucked “safely” on their bus and the subsequent flight home-- they probably still don’t get it.
The Coach comments that he missed a chance to “see different guys” play in one of the fall’s last exhibition games. The team President says the organization was concerned for the safety of the players. The General Manager says they will come back in two years.
They all so badly missed the real point of the whole exercise.
Talk about a missed opportunity.
The ‘effort’ was the decision by Maple Leafs Sports & Entertainment to have the NBA team that that entity owns, the Raptors, play an exhibition game at the home of the St. John’s (Newfoundland) hockey Leafs, Mile One Stadium.
Wonderful thought, and particularly appealing to the local sports fans, no doubt, given that the opposition was the once-lowly Cleveland Cavaliers, now a team with the highest-profile rookie to come into the NBA in years, young LeBron James.
As fate (or lack of proper preparation) would have it, with a full house watching, it evidently became clear that condensation on the temporary playing floor would not allow the teams to play safely. The Raptors, and the NBA, determined that conditions were unsafe and called the game off.
Amazingly, Raptors officials actually herded the players from the teams out of the building BEFORE letting the crowd know the game would be cancelled.
It was a stunning display of arrogance, and a classic case of turning a negative into an even bigger negative.
Presented with what was, in effect, an opportunity, Raptors officials could have, from a “public relations” perspective at the very least, if nothing else, (or simply because it would have been the right thing to do) handled this situation very differently.
With thousands of moms and dads and youngsters on hand to see their first-ever, and possibly only-ever NBA “game”, the players skulked out of the building-- caught by TV cameras, but not so noticed by the poor fans.
Did any of the Raptors officials think about another way of handling this situation, other than General Manager Glen Grunwald lamely offering to return to Newfoundland “within two years”?
Perhaps a slam-dunk contest was out of the question, given the potentially slippery conditions. But how about a three-point shooting contest to entertain the fans?
Maybe an impromptu “Question & Answer” session with young LeBron James, or Raps star Vince Carter, holding a microphone in their hands at center court and kids having an opportunity to ask questions?
Or a quick ticket stub “raffle” to offer a chance to at least a few fans to take photos with/of their favorite players?
Or better still, with the allotted time still available and everyone already there (even though the game was delayed, they were supposed to be playing an entire game, after all), how about asking (insisting?) that each one of the players on both teams spend some time in the stands, signing autographs?
Oh yes, a few of the multi-million dollar athletes might have had to walk up a few flights of stairs to get to the top of the small arena, but one senses they are in good enough shape to handle the task.
Any of these things would have brought a smile to the faces of youngsters, many of whom had been thinking about this night for weeks and weeks.
Any of the above would have given a sign, a glimpse of hope, that today’s professional athletes are not totally out of touch with the “average fan” – and that MLSE management, accustomed to charging ridiculously high amounts for sometimes middlish entertainment value at the Air Canada Center in Toronto – was not equally out of touch.
Any of the above would have turned a mess into a positive experience for many of those on hand.
Instead, in their wisdom, Raptor officials determined that the precious players were somehow at risk of a hostile reaction from the crowd.
Rather than actively doing something positive, they ran out the back of the building, literally (while unsuspecting volunteers, many of them youngsters, were still trying to help dry off the floor).
Sometimes, when you don’t “do” much of anything, as the Raptors officials did not, you are really “communicating” a lot.
And by implying that the St. John’s sports faithful, of all people, might have reacted badly was dead wrong, and also missed the point.
All they wanted was to see the players a little, see them up close, and see them as real people, not small distant figures on a TV screen.
The Raptors had a chance to take an unfortunate circumstance and do something really neat, and they failed on all counts.
Perhaps what is most disappointing is that –tucked “safely” on their bus and the subsequent flight home-- they probably still don’t get it.
The Coach comments that he missed a chance to “see different guys” play in one of the fall’s last exhibition games. The team President says the organization was concerned for the safety of the players. The General Manager says they will come back in two years.
They all so badly missed the real point of the whole exercise.
Talk about a missed opportunity.
Monday, September 1, 2003
"In Good Times and In Bad..."
A media report recently noted that a high-profile NFL linebacker, well-known for his ‘leadership' and also for his willingness to engage with the media, pulled a no-show after a loss.
That is, he refused to speak with the press after the game.
How many times have we seen it: the athlete who has a great day and quite understandably laps up the subsequent, often deserved media attention that follows.
The player often provides the standard comments about how tough the opposition is, how he owes it all to his teammates or line mates, that he just tries to give 110% every game, etc.
It may not be controversial, but the athlete has at least lived up to the public expectation that he will not only perform to the best of his ability on the ice/field/court, but will take the time afterwards to accommodate the public -- through the media.
Fair enough.
The problem is, some athletes are more than willing to engage in conversations with the media when things are going well – and then see their name in print, often in glowing terms, the following day.
What happens when the same player has a ‘bad' day on the field/ice/court?
Many players fight the urge to disappear, to leave their cubicle empty at the end of the game, or to send the club's public relations people out to explain the player's unwillingness to talk.
Those players know they have a responsibility, whenever possible, to face the media, and through the media the public that helps pays the way for them to earn their significant incomes.
But some players want to take advantage of the media exposure on those good days, and then ignore their responsibility when things are difficult.
Making themselves “unavailable” after a loss, or a bad game, is a little like saying “No comment”.
And what impression are we left with by a “No comment”?
In many corporate situations, it tends to give the impression that the company spokesperson is holding back information, or is fearful of divulging information, which harms the credibility of the spokesperson and the organization they represent.
By saying “nothing”, the spokesperson is often actually implying quite a bit.
Similarly, in the sports world, an actual “No comment” is in fact a very strong comment. If a player is asked about their relationship with their coach and replies “No comment”, what is the media person, or the fan reading those comments, apt to think?
And when a player “ducks” the media, what message does that send? That the athlete can handle the good times and the accolades, but is not willing or able to stand there and explain their performance – and that of their team -- on a tough day?
Clearly, there will be times during a player's career, or a coach's, when they are simply, for a variety of legitimate reasons, not “up” to facing intensive media scrutiny. It may well be best -- and wisest -- in such circumstances to say nothing, rather than speak and say things the person may later regret.
But if this happens at all regularly, that player may well end up with the reputation as someone who is not a “stand up” guy, at least from a media and public perspective.
Being accountable -- and accepting and taking responsibility -- in tough times is perhaps even more important than it is in good times.
That is, he refused to speak with the press after the game.
How many times have we seen it: the athlete who has a great day and quite understandably laps up the subsequent, often deserved media attention that follows.
The player often provides the standard comments about how tough the opposition is, how he owes it all to his teammates or line mates, that he just tries to give 110% every game, etc.
It may not be controversial, but the athlete has at least lived up to the public expectation that he will not only perform to the best of his ability on the ice/field/court, but will take the time afterwards to accommodate the public -- through the media.
Fair enough.
The problem is, some athletes are more than willing to engage in conversations with the media when things are going well – and then see their name in print, often in glowing terms, the following day.
What happens when the same player has a ‘bad' day on the field/ice/court?
Many players fight the urge to disappear, to leave their cubicle empty at the end of the game, or to send the club's public relations people out to explain the player's unwillingness to talk.
Those players know they have a responsibility, whenever possible, to face the media, and through the media the public that helps pays the way for them to earn their significant incomes.
But some players want to take advantage of the media exposure on those good days, and then ignore their responsibility when things are difficult.
Making themselves “unavailable” after a loss, or a bad game, is a little like saying “No comment”.
And what impression are we left with by a “No comment”?
In many corporate situations, it tends to give the impression that the company spokesperson is holding back information, or is fearful of divulging information, which harms the credibility of the spokesperson and the organization they represent.
By saying “nothing”, the spokesperson is often actually implying quite a bit.
Similarly, in the sports world, an actual “No comment” is in fact a very strong comment. If a player is asked about their relationship with their coach and replies “No comment”, what is the media person, or the fan reading those comments, apt to think?
And when a player “ducks” the media, what message does that send? That the athlete can handle the good times and the accolades, but is not willing or able to stand there and explain their performance – and that of their team -- on a tough day?
Clearly, there will be times during a player's career, or a coach's, when they are simply, for a variety of legitimate reasons, not “up” to facing intensive media scrutiny. It may well be best -- and wisest -- in such circumstances to say nothing, rather than speak and say things the person may later regret.
But if this happens at all regularly, that player may well end up with the reputation as someone who is not a “stand up” guy, at least from a media and public perspective.
Being accountable -- and accepting and taking responsibility -- in tough times is perhaps even more important than it is in good times.
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