Showing posts with label World Series. Show all posts
Showing posts with label World Series. Show all posts

Monday, February 9, 2009

The Death of Jazz... ...and Baseball, Too?

Over the weekend (if you consider that the weekend starts on Friday; long gone are those college days when youthful exuberance demanded the weekend start on Thursday!), I finished reading Joe Posnanski's excellent book, The Soul of Baseball: A Road Trip Through Buck O'Neil's America. Did I mention it is an excellent read? O'Neil had such a zest for living, I'm now sad I never got to meet the man before he passed away. Posnanski was lucky enough to spend a year traveling with O'Neil, and there are wonderful life lessons* learned every step along the way.


* My favorite life lesson? When O'Neil schooled Posnanski with, "Son, in this life, you don't ever walk by a red dress."

One thing stuck with me after reading the book, however. O'Neil often compared baseball to jazz. He also compared living to jazz, but he insisted that the rhythms of baseball most closely matched those of jazz. I do think he was right about that.

What, then, do we make of the premise that jazz is dying, or perhaps that it died with John Coltrane in the late '60s? My wife was watching the Grammys last night, and she mentioned the same thing, that jazz is dead. Perhaps someone on the show said as much, I don't know.* The only part I watched last night was when Neil Diamond took the stage to sing "Sweet Caroline." How he could pull that off without any hint of irony, I have no idea. The only worthwhile part of the show immediately followed his performance, when they paid tribute to those musicians, producers, and even one music photographer who passed away last year, followed by an excellent rendition of "Who Do You Love?" as a tribute to Bo Diddley.

* I can't stand the incredible proliferation of awards shows -- too much self-congratulatory back slapping can't be good for any industry, and it's not like the folks in Hollywood or the music industry really need any more attention. So I boycott all of the award shows, even the Oscars, on general principle.

I thought I would explore the thought that jazz died with Coltrane a bit more, since people still practice and listen to jazz in great numbers. I have friends who are dedicated to the genre, and who still travel great lengths to attend the annual New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival. Of course, as soon as I opened their website, I saw a picture announcing the scheduled performance of Jon Bovi. Maybe jazz really is dead, after all.

I also found this very recent article from a musical magazine called The Walrus (with an obvious reference to The Beatles, no? Actually, probably not.), in which the author talks about jazz and how it might slip into the same category as classical music: no composer creates anything fresh and new; performers just put their own interpretation on the classic pieces of the genre. Alexander Gelfand actually makes a convincing argument that many musical genres hit similar walls during the '60s, when new musicians revolted against standard elements of music such as meter, harmony, and tonality in attempts to push the boundaries of music. Nothing new there. People in all walks of life were revolting against the Establishment during that time frame.

Personally, I am ambivalent towards modern jazz for all the same reasons why people describe jazz as dead today. As much as I love swing, big band, bebop, and other earlier forms of jazz, I detest the random, meandering improvisational form that took hold on jazz in the '60s. Too many of the sounds are discordant, and the songs don't seem to go anywhere. Everything is too loose, if you will. How can anyone tell if a truly improvisational effort that goes on for 25 minutes is any good or not?

Very good rock-n-roll, on the other hand, is invariably tight musically. There should be no random notes, and a three-and-a-half minute performance does not allow for any wasted effort.* Think about the signature songs of Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly, and even The Ramones. All of their songs were tight and to the point. I do remember being introduced to a small college band's sound by a fellow traveler on an airplane ride back in 1993. I remember thinking, "Wow. This sound is tight!" That was The Dave Matthews Band, just getting ready to release their first commercially successful album, "Under the Table and Dreaming."

* Obviously, lots of songs played on classic rock stations ("In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida," "Hotel California," and virtually anything by Chicago, Boston, the Moody Blues, Jethro Tull, etc.) do meander and take up unbearable amounts of time. I don't listen to those, either.

Back to the question: what to make of the death of jazz, if jazz is so closely tied to baseball? I would be remiss if I failed to include in this discussion the contributions of Ken Burns, who did two very extensive documentary series, one on Baseball, and one on Jazz. Clearly, O'Neil was not the only one who saw the connection between these two very American pastimes.

This discussion could get way out of hand at this point. The rise of rap and hip hop culture affected the style of play in the NBA, and there is a great intertwining of hip hop attitude in American culture at large (yes, even in the suburbs) these days. I don't want to get into all of that.

Drawing just one parallel to the jazz-baseball pairing, rock-n-roll could be associated with football. The rise of rock music in the early '50s and beyond coincided with the rise in popularity of the NFL and college football, and the NFL tends to get artists for the Super Bowl halftime show from the ranks of rock-n-roll (the early days of using Up With People notwithstanding), so I do think that case is strong. The rise of football also coincided with the rise of television, and there is a lot to be said about changing media and changing tastes, as well.

Baseball has its own issues that have led to declining interest among the American public. The litany goes on and on:
  • The players strike of '94 that forced the cancellation of the World Series just about killed the game.
  • Sadly, it was not until the Steroid Era home run bashers brought people back into the seats in '98 that baseball seemed strong again.
  • Now, we all wonder how to deal with the statistics from the Steroid Era.
  • Starting times for playoff games are too late for the next generation of fans to stay up and watch their heroes play the most meaningful games.
  • Many of the playoff games that used to air on one of the big four networks (NBC, CBS, ABC, and Fox) now are being shown only on cable stations like TNT or TBS.
  • Kids don't get out and play sandlot games with their friends any more, depriving kids of the pure joy of playing outside the regimented structure of organized baseball leagues.
  • A major drawback to organized youth baseball is the constant pressure to win imposed upon the kids by their coaches and parents; it often leads to burnout.
  • Ticket, parking, and concession prices for a family of four hover close to $200 at most MLB ballparks, making the possibility of regularly taking a family to see a game nigh impossible.
  • Actually going to the ballpark is still the best way of seeing the game and taking in all the rhythms, the sounds, and the music of baseball, as O'Neil described it.
  • Watching a game on TV still leaves a lot to be desired, since you cannot see the action on the entire field at the same time in any camera view, unlike football and basketball.
  • The MLB "salary cap," in which teams spending well above the cap limit pay a relatively small payroll tax, does not have the same effect as does the NFL cap, which significantly levels the playing field for free agents, thereby ensuring competitive balance.
There are many, many reasons why Americans do not watch or play baseball in the same numbers as we once did. The rise of football, basketball, and even "extreme sports" have all crowded the sports landscape. The same splintering of TV viewership that accompanied the rise of cable TV (where there is a niche for any viewing pleasure, meaning we never will have 109 million or so people tune in to a single show ever again) has had an impact on how we play and watch sports, as well.

I would also argue that people's tastes have changed since baseball's heyday in the '30s-'50s. People don't really listen to baseball games on the radio any more; who has the time for that? Forget that listening to baseball on the radio is the perfect medium if you cannot make it to the ballpark in person. Even if you can go to the ballpark, you'll still see fans listening to radio broadcasts while watching the game. It's a powerful connection that exists between radio and baseball.

I grew up listening to Cincinnati Reds games on WLW 700 AM with Joe Nuxhall and Marty Brennaman, primarily because the pizza delivery cars we drove only had AM radios in them. There was nothing better than listening to the games while driving to and from the next delivery location on a hot summer night. A very big reason why I've wanted a satellite radio receiver for the longest time was because I would be able to listen to Reds games on the radio once again, no matter where in the U.S. I lived.

What I'm really trying to say here is that the rise and fall of jazz and baseball fandom does seem to be linked. There are perhaps no more American modes of expression and entertainment than baseball and jazz. But the reasons for the overall decline in popularity for those two pastimes are complex and have to be couched in terms of shifting cultural patterns, as well. It's a fascinating topic, and I thank Posnanski and O'Neil for making me think of it.

Thursday, January 1, 2009

A Letter to Roger Goodell

Dear Roger,

I saw this news item just yesterday, so I missed the original announcement from the NFL. Apparently, people in your office are disappointed in the lackluster TV ratings for the NFL Pro Bowl, which is played annually in Hawaii the week after the Super Bowl. The Super Bowl, of course, regularly pulls some of the highest ratings in the United States (90+ million people watched last year's tilt between the NY Giants and the NE Patriots in the US alone), plus perhaps the largest worldwide audience for a live event. National news media covers the Super Bowl in great detail, and the ads for the Super Bowl are projected to sell for $3 Million for a 30-second spot this year.

So, it is understandable that staffers are concerned about the general disdain for the Pro Bowl. No one pays much attention to the game, and certainly no one much cares who plays in the game after the public votes for its favorite players and the sportswriters have had their turn discussing who should have been named to the NFC and AFC Pro Bowl teams. Every year, deserving players get overlooked for other players with higher marquee factor, and that will never change.

Ah, but how do you address the fact that no one wants to watch a meaningless all-star game that happens after the season finishes with the biggest one-day spectacle in all of sports?! MLB has similar issues with its all-star game, except baseball plays its game in the middle of its season. Bud Selig, your counterpart, decided he could spice things up a bit by giving home-field advantage in the World Series to the League that wins the "Summer Classic" every year. And every year since that decision, the American League has won the all-star game. Putting home field advantage at stake has not noticeably improved the ratings for the MLB all-star game, and it has only marginally affected the outcome of the World Series.

Given that the NFL will never move its Pro Bowl to the middle of the NFL season, what was your alternative? I have to say, moving the Pro Bowl to that Sunday in between the AFC and NFC Championship games and Super Sunday is a terrible idea. Why? Two words: Robert Freaking Edwards the Third.

Please forgive me if you are unaware of Mr. Edwards. He didn't play long in the NFL, although he had a very good rookie season playing for the Patriots in 1998. That year, he played in 16 games, started 15 games, ran the ball 291 times, rushed for 1,115 yds and nine TDs, and added another 35 catches for 331 YDs and three TDs. He was a monster in fantasy football terms, although I had another rookie on my fantasy team that year, Fred Taylor of the Jacksonville Jaguars. For comparison, Mr. Taylor played in 15 games, started 12 of them (after a season-ending injury to James Stewart), ran the ball 264 times, rushed for 1,223 YDs and 14 TDs, and added 44 catches for 421 YDs and three TDs. Until 2008, you would be hard-pressed to find another pair of rookie RBs who had such a big (Ginormous!) impact on the game of pro football.

Mr. Goodell, you might be asking yourself why this is relevant to your decision to play the Pro Bowl on the Sunday leading up to the Super Bowl. Let me give you another set of numbers for illustration. After their rookie seasons, Mr. Taylor and Mr. Edwards had vastly divergent NFL careers. Mr. Taylor, or "Fragile Fred" as he is known in fantasy circles, has had an up-and-down career, always productive when he's on the field, but hardly able to remain on it for a full season. He played 10 games in 1999, 13 in 2000, two games in 2001, two full seasons in 2002-3, 14 games in 2004, 11 in 2005, 15 games each in 2006-7, and 13 games in 2008. Still, he has 11,271 career rushing YDs, 62 career TDs, a very strong 4.6 YDs per carry average, 2,361 career receiving YDs, and eight career receiving TDs. Those might not be Hall of Fame numbers, but how many young men are able to play 11 seasons in the NFL, period?

Mr. Edwards certainly did not. After his sterling rookie season, Mr. Edwards played only one more abbreviated season, for the Miami Dolphins in 2002. He ended his career with only 311 attempts, 1,222 career rushing YDs, 10 career rushing TDs, a 3.9 YDs per carry average, 457 career receiving YDs, and only four receiving TDs.

So, the question remains: how or why was "Fragile Fred" able to remain in the NFL for so much longer than Robert Edwards III? After that 1998 season, Mr. Edwards was named to the Pro Bowl while Mr. Taylor was not*. Back in the day, the Pro Bowlers used to play several events in addition to the Pro Bowl game itself. One of those events was a sand football game for the rookie all-stars, and it was two-hand touch, I think. Great fun, right? It was fun for all involved until Mr. Edwards fell and twisted his knee during that sand football game. He was never the same since.

* Taylor was named to the AFC Pro Bowl squad after the 2007 season, so he does have the same number of Pro Bowl appearances as does Edwards.

I ask you, Mr. Goodell, this simple question: what will the NFL do, either in 2010 or whenever it happens, the first time a player from one of the two Super Bowl contestants gets injured during the meaningless Pro Bowl game? You cannot deny that such a possibility exists, and you cannot deny that such an injury would alter the competitive balance of the most important game of the NFL season. Would Super Bowl-bound teams place playing restrictions on their marquee players named to the Pro Bowl, further limiting the value of that all-star game? Would any team really accept the distraction from their game plan preparations in the week leading up to the Super Bowl, even if no one gets hurt? Would you place all the players in protective bubble-wrap uniforms to prevent injuries?

These are questions that you, Mr. Goodell, need to answer satisfactorily before the 2010 Pro Bowl and Super Bowl. I know you are disappointed that regular fans like myself consider the Pro Bowl to be meaningless. I'm sorry, but it is. It doesn't matter in the standings, and it only serves as a nice benefit for those players lucky enough to be named to the squads. A free trip to Hawaii is always a nice benefit, and now the NFL players won't even get that benefit.

Way to go, Mr. Goodell. May I call you Roger? You need to rethink this policy, Roger. Your office won't be able to survive the public outcry or insurance maelstrom should a star QB from a Super Bowl team get hurt in a meaningless game. Pro football is a violent sport. I'm sure you've noticed. It's only a matter of time before disaster strikes, and you need to have a darn good idea of how you plan to respond before it does.

Sincerely,
A Fan

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

The Darndest Thing

Wouldn't you say this is the darndest thing? MLB and Bud Selig adjusted the start time of a possible game six in the World Series to accommodate a half-hour ad buy from the Obama campaign.

Forget for a minute that not many World Series' have made it to six games recently, as that article pointed out. Also forget that since game five was suspended last night due to rain, they will take an extra day in Philly tonight to determine the outcome of that game. There's more rain in the forecast for tonight, so there's no telling if they will actually play a game six on Thursday this week, even if game six becomes necessary. (And weren't they wishing for the indoor comfort of Tropicana Field last night?!)

What really makes me scratch my head is the fact that Obama still feels the ad buy is necessary, with less than a week to go until polls close. What more could he say to the American people that he hasn't already said through campaign stops, town halls during the primary season, his speech at the DNC, and during the Presidential debates with John McCain? Does Obama feel a little desperation creeping in, even though the MSM already crowned him the presumptive next POTUS?

NPR yesterday spoke with some voters in Missouri, a state that traditionally picks the next POTUS. I think they said that the only time (maybe it was the only time since 1900... ?) that the residents of Missouri didn't vote for the next President was in the 1956 election. Missouri this year is split in pre-election polling, almost exactly 50-50 between McCain and Obama.

It just makes me wonder... even with the issues of the crumbling national economy, the meltdown on Wall Street, the Iraq and Afghanistan wars, and with people's worries about the advancing age of McCain -- even with all of that! -- Obama still hasn't sealed the deal. He still feels the need to make one last pitch to the American populace. Which makes me scratch my head, just a little bit.