by John Walters

Starting Five

50 Days

This weekend Saturday Night Live re-broadcast the episode from February 29, hosted by John Mulaney. As I write this, on Sunday, that was 50 days ago. It’s a fantastic show, with a cold open featuring all the donkey candidates —earlier that day Joe Biden had won the South Carolina primary and turned the direction of the Democratic race—and a vintage Mulaneylogue below:

The date also is significant because it was the first reported domestic death, in Washington, of an American from the coronavirus (you may recall that our fearless leader got the victim’s sex wrong… he had a 50/50 chance, and he got it wrong).

Anyway, the show was well aware of the coronavirus —it’s the subtext of the cold open and is heavily featured in “Weekend Update,” where guest commentator Michael Redd signs off cheekily with “Remember, black people can’t get coronavirus”— but who among the general population then really had any idea just how devastating it would be?

We’re 50 days removed from that episode, which also featured David Byrne and his shoeless troupe performing “Once In A Lifetime” (“My God, what have I done?” seems particularly applicable to you, Mr. President) and the genius “Airport Sushi” sketch (“Profiled Asian/Standing besides you…”) by the time you read this, at least 35,000 Americans will have died in those 50 days from coronavirus.

So when someone from Fox News or someone who watches Fox News or some psychologist who calls himself “Dr.” and appears on Fox News reminds you how many Americans a year die of the flu or from car crashes, remind them that neither are currently contagious and that this was 35,000 in 50 days. From a pandemic that, while not totally preventable, would have likely been cut at least in half if the White House had been paying attention earlier than Lorne Michaels’ cast was.

Give ‘Em Hell, Vic

This is Vic DiBitetto, who is a comic and the answer to the question, “What if Andrew Dice Clay and Sebastian Maniscalco had a baby?” A furiously funny four minutes here, all the more so because everything he’s saying is spot-on. And what a relief not to have to add, “NSFW,” not that we ever used to.

An Extraordinary Life

Few men lived a richer life than wildlife (and model) photographer Peter Beard, who went missing on the last day of March from his Montauk home and whose remains were found in the woods not far away this past weekend. Beard, 82, had been suffering from dementia.

A child of affluence in Manhattan, Beard lived the type of existence that New Yorker features (and Amor Towles novels) were made for. His uncle is rumored to have invented the tuxedo. Beard, with movie-star looks and charm, started out at Yale as a pre-med but then switched to art (probably following a chemistry exam) and made an expedition to Africa while still in his teens. He would be forever charmed by the Dark Continent and become a fierce protagonist for wildlife.

He was also a man of his time. Beard loved models—he discovered Iman on the streets of Nairobi—and even married one: Cheryl Tiegs. They lasted four years.

Beard was even gored in the leg by a stampeding elephant once, and lived to tell about it. He was the kind of guy who photographed deadly creatures and partied with Keith Richards and Andy Warhol: he was equally at home with rhinos, winos and albinos.

If life is a ride, Peter Beard damn well got his money’s worth. Rest in happiness.

Bulls On Parade

ESPN’s 10-part series on Michael Jordan and the 1990s Chicago Bulls was supposed to air after the NBA season, and I guess it is. It’s just that the air date was moved up by about seven weeks. The first episode premiered on Sunday night (after we wrote this), so we’ll wait to see. Our close friend from the first week of college, Marty Burns, was a colleague at Sports Illustrated at the time who had an innate knowledge of the south side of Chicago, his home, and all things Bulls and Jordan.

Marty learned quickly that the way to find out what was happening with the Bulls was to talk to the team’s old man, assistant coach Tex Winter. And Marty’s the kind of sportswriter athletes and coaches know they can trust implicitly. He’s genuine. Mister Burns, as we fondly call him, did a lot of great work on the Bulls in the 90s. I’m sure he’ll be tuned in to this.

Personal zeitgeist ’90s moment: It’s moments before Game 4 of the 1996 NBA Finals in the Key Arena in Seattle. The Bulls are up 3-0 on the Sonics and I’m there to do a piece on Bob Costas for Entertainment Weekly. I’m walking on the court, along the sideline, as the teams are warming up. About 10 feet away to my right, Michael Jordan is shooting jumpers. Ten feet in the other direction, Eddie Vedder is standing along the sideline, talking to someone. I could feel the vortex of greatness surging through me. Alas, it didn’t take.

Death of a Trump Truther

In this weekend’s New York Times, a timely piece on the death of longtime Bay Ridge (Brooklyn) bar owner Joe Joyce (above, left, in a photo from the late 1970s). The owner of popular local establishment JJ Bubbles since 1977, Joyce didn’t buy all the panic about the coronavirus. He was a loyal Fox News watcher, after all.

So Joe and his wife set sail on a Mediterranean cruise, with ports of call in Spain, on March 14. By April 9 Joyce, 74, had died from the virus.

Although, having read the piece, I think the most devastating aspect of the story is that JJ Bubbles has been in business for more than 40 years even though it only has Bud and Bud Light on tap.

Music 101

This version of David Bowie’s “Life On Mars” by Postmodern Jukebox is so good that we thought we’d add it. Stick around after three minutes to see what our chanteuse, Olivia Kuper Harris, can do vocally besides sing.

by John Walters

Good Read: “The Age of Coddling Is Over” by David Brooks

Starting Five

King Of The Jungle Road*

*The judges will also accept “Lyin’ Lions” and “Pride Goeth Before A Fall”

Go on NapQuest this morning and you’ll see a photo of a pride of lions napping fitfully in a road in South Africa. Amidst all the deaths of the pandemic, the upside is FEWER HUMANS out and about, which means less traffic. Even where I am, I’ve noticed the uptick in animals out and about. They must be wondering about this wonderful new world they’re living in, but they sure seem to be adjusting well. And quickly.

TCM Classic Weekend (At Home)

TCM’s 11th annual “Classic Movie Weekend” was to be held in Hollywood over the next few days, but circumstances have prevented that. Still, Ted Turner’s cable channel is hosting a home version of the event and the best part of that for you and I is a spate of classic films.

You don’t have the NBA playoffs to watch. No parties or bars to go to. You can only watch “Tiger King” or “The Crown” so many times. Here’s your chance to go to film school. You may even enjoy it. And Ben Mankiewicz, well, he’s the host with the most. Here’s the highlights of the Friday through Sunday schedule, with an asterisk next to films we’ve seen (so you’ll know when we’re b.s.’in’ you.

FRIDAY (all times Eastern)

3 p.m. North By Northwest* (1959): If not the best Hitchcock film (it’s in the top two), certainly the sexiest, with Cary Grant and Eva Marie-Saint.

5 p.m. Some Like It Hot* (1959): Men in drag has never been done more deftly, and Tony Curtis shines basically playing three different characters (he did not win the Oscar, only a Tony award). Jack Lemmon’s two top films this decade end with a one-liner aboard a boat.

10 p.m. Deliverance* (1972): Seriously, where did they find those locals? That kid on the bridge? Burt Reynolds and Jon Voight are about to own the Seventies.

SATURDAY

12 a.m. The Creature From the Black Lagoon (1954): B-movie horror classic.

1:15 p.m. Safety Last (1923): Harold Lloyd hangs from a giant clock 10 storie above traffic. Stunt man? I don’t need no stunt man.

5:45 p.m. Network * (1976): Somebody felt bad for Ned Beatty after Deliverance and handed him a leviathan scene to show off all-encompassing power.

8 p.m. Casablanca* (1942): There are three films that everyone must see and then quote from: The Godfather (I and II) and this. Trust us, you’ll enjoy it.

11:45 p.m. Night And The City (1950) Stumble down Noir Alley and find Eddie Mueller hosting this gem, shot on location in London, starring Richard Widmark and the lustrous Gene Tierney.

SUNDAY

10 a.m. Lawrence of Arabia* (1962) The quintessential desert epic with Peter O’Toole in the role of a lifetime. He’s even more beautiful than the Arabic landscape.

6 p.m. Singin’ In The Rain* (1952) Probably the funniest, snappiest and many would also add best of the Hollywood musicals.

9:45 p.m. The Hustler (1961): Paul Newman, Jackie Gleason and an eight ball.

J.T. : Just Transferring

Not a surprise, but J.T. Daniels the then freshman quarterback at USC about whom all the ESPN announcers raved in 2018, has entered the transfer portal. Daniels suffered a season-ending knee injury in the first half of the Trojans’ first game, versus Fresno State, last September. Three-star freshman Kedon Slovis stepped in and promptly earned Pac-12 Freshman of the Year honors. And deserved them.

No word on where Daniels, an Orange County kid, is headed. But this is the right move for him.

George Versus Germs

The late George Carlin had some very pointed words about germs, deadly viruses and preparing your immune system.

Sports Year 1876

An Opening Day to open all opening days. In what is a leap year, sports take a quantum leap forward with the formation, on February 2nd, of the National League in Chicago. All present agree to mark the sport’s history from this time forward.

It is an eventful year, this centennial year, in American history: Alexander Graham Bell places the first phone call, Anheuser Busch begins manufacturing suds, and George Custer leads his men into an ambush in the hills of South Dakota.

But as for baseball, the opening Opening Day takes place on April 22 in Philadelphia. The Boston Red Stockings defeat the Athletics 6-5 on a Saturday at the Jefferson Street Grounds (bounded, for you Philadelphians and/or fans of sports lore, by 25th and 27th Streets on the east and west, and Jefferson and Master Streets on the north and south. It was not supposed to be MLB’s stand-alone game that day, but all other games were rained out, so it now has the distinction of being the first Major League Baseball game.

In August, or September, Walter Camp enrolls at Yale. He will become the central figure in the history of college football.

The Chicago White Stockings, managed by our old pal Al Spalding (who will also pitch) will win the inaugural National League pennant with a 52-14 record. The league’s seven other squads, in order of finish: the Hartford Dark Blues, St. Louis Brown Stockings, Boston Red Stockings, Louisville Grays, New York Mutuals and Cincinnati Reds (who finish 9-56). The Mutuals and A’s skip their final few games of the season, as they are both competitively and financially in over their heads.

by John Walters

Starting Five

30 for ’20

Did someone say 30,000 deaths in the United States? They will be day’s end.

It was only eight days ago that the staggering total was still below 15,000. It will have doubled in little more than a week. Or, as the President said more than one week ago, “A lot of death.”

Where does it end? Far too soon to tell, of course.

Meanwhile, in yesterday’s edition of “TCM Versus Today,” we watched No Way Out: the Sydney Poitier/Richard Widmark version from 1950, not the Kevin Costner/Sean Young version from 1987 (entirely different stories). In the 1950 version, Poitier is a young black doctor—the actor was only 22 when he landed the role and lied to the producer that he was 27 to land the part—who works on two criminal siblings, the Biddle brothers, who’ve just been shot in a robbery attempt. One of them dies and the other, played by Widmark (who probably sets a record, not since topped by a white actor, for the most uses of the N-word in one film), decides to blame Poitier for intentionally trying to kill his brother.

The plot then centers on Poitier attempting to have an autopsy done while Widmark refuses to let him do it: ostensibly because he doesn’t want his brother cut open “like a chunk of wood” but really because he’d rather remain ignorant and continue to blame the “n_____r doctor.” At one point his sister-in-law, the dead man’s wife, literally asks, “But why don’t you want to let them do the tests?” and he replies, “Because I have the answer right here (and points to his skull).”

Remember when Trump, only a week ago, said, “This is my metric?” It was that all over again.

Who needs cable news when you have TCM? Widmark, by the way, was fantastic and truly loathsome in this role.

Covid Comes Back

The headline that most caught our eyes this morning? The fact that in South Korea, 140 people who recovered from Covid-19 contracted it again. This ain’t the chicken pox, and it opens up some questions people may not want to consider.

If Covid-19 can recur in people, then what are we all supposed to do between now and Vaccine Day, which is likely still a year away? So you stay indoors and/or away from other humans for a month or three, but when we reemerge, then what? Everyone who has had it and recovered is probably just as likely to get it again. It’s like, Okay, stay away from the people with cooties until they recover… but even once they do recover, we are ALL just as likely to get the cooties again, both those of us who’ve never had it and those who have. So it’s not as if waiting those people out reduces the number of potential sufferers one iota. They’re all still in the pool with the rest of us.

A prediction: eventually the White House and business leaders are going to decide that the curve has flattened enough. And here’s the lynch pin: The NFL . If there is any public event business that can override shelter in place, it is The Shield. And they will. The NFL will play this autumn. Because at a certain point the potentates of this nation will understand that until a vaccine arrives, no shelter-in-place method is going to work unless it stays in effect until the vaccine. For the reasons outlined above: People who have had Covid and recovered are just as susceptible to catching it again, and you’re never going to get it down to zero patients, thus by separating those who’ve had from those who haven’t you’re not really doing anything effective once you let the former back into the population once they’ve recovered.

It’s an ALL or NOTHING proposition until the vaccine arrives. And I don’t think our “leaders” will have that much patience… with patients. We’ll see.

Rebounding From March 23rd

Yesterday CNBC posted a headline about bleak earnings reports and in its sub hed used a quote from a financier saying, “The economy is in ruins.”

Certain sectors, certainly. But as Mark Haines of CNBC called the 2008-2009 market bottom on March 9 (I believe, may be a day off) in real time, we wonder (using hindsight) if the market bottom hasn’t already hit: on March 23, 2020.

Let’s look at where a few stocks were on that day and where they are since:

United Health (UNH): March 23, $195, April 16: $286 UP 47%

Apple (AAPL): $212 to $285 UP 34%

Amazon (AMZN): $1,827 to $2,391 UP 31%

Question: Who among us had the temerity to go ALL IN and be bullish on March 23rd (I didn’t)? How many of us/you are up even 30% since that day? These are not tiny companies, in fact they’re Nos. 13, 2 and 3 respectively by market cap. You didn’t need to search far and wide to find them.

Of course, it’s easy to call a market bottom three weeks after the fact. Do we have any answers/insights? Our only suggestion, and that’s all it is, is that in this period of volatility, on a day when things are going well, it might not be the worst idea to sell and be very liquid. Wait for another awful day or spate of them. Does that make you a day trader? Perhaps.

Anyway, do what’s best for you. We’re just here to point out what has been happening, best we are able.

Earlier this morning Jim Cramer asked on CNBC, “Has Amazon become a small country now?” He noted this in the wake that Amazon has hired more people in the past month than anyone—as most companies are firing workers—and continues to do so. A Barclay’s banker says he’d rather own Amazon now than any other stock. So would we.

From “Gooooooooal!” To “Gooooo!”

We haven’t wanted to say much about SI’s unceremonious firing of Grant Wahl and we’re completely glad we’re off Twitter for moments such as this. I’ve known Grant since he started at SI and we’ve always been friendly, at the very least collegial. We played on the same SI hoops team [our best players? John O’Keefe, who could’ve played D3, easily, and Steve Rushin, who’s too talented in too many areas of life…it’s downright maddening 🙂 ] for a few years and I was always impressed by how intelligent this Princeton grad is. His wife, Dr. Celine Gounder, whom you now are able to see on MSNBC and CNN advising about the pandemic as an NYU epidemiologist, used to watch our games as a medical resident. She obviously had better ways of spending her time, but she still attended those games.

A couple of items: I recall watching the epic Champions League final of 1999 at an Upper East Side bar with three friends. They were: Grant, Rushin (SI’s greatest Anglophile and a soccer fan) and Jeff Bradley, an SI alum by that time and yes, the younger brother of Bob. I’m pretty sure I have the squad correct. It says something about where soccer coverage was in the USA then that we were all watching in a bar together. Jeff was writing soccer for espn.com at that point and Grant was about to be SI’s voice of soccer for the next two decades. Steve could’ve been had he wanted, as he was SI’s singular talent in all walks and still in his early 30s. That was the match in which Bayern led 1-0 until injury time, during which Manchester United scored 2 goals and stole the match away. It was my international soccer baptism.

Anyway, I remember that day. I remember nine years later pitching Grant on the idea —I had since moved to NBC and we were both in Beijing for the Olympics— of a nightly Olympic soccer roundup called… wait for it… The Grant Wahl of China. Grant was enthusiastic, my broadcast talent, Mary Carillo, was enthusiastic, but someone higher up at NBC was not as fond of puns as I, and it never happened. Alas….

Anyway, I don’t know what happened between SI and Grant. I certainly don’t begrudge any writer making a living, a healthy living, but relative to the times and to the beat, that salary was ginormous. And I recall myself being a 12-year veteran at SI and speaking up when I thought things were unfair. And paying a price for it. Was I right? Probably. Did it matter? No.

I was fortunate enough to have SI take me back. Twice.

Grant will be fine. And he did as much as any writer in the past 20 years to promote the sport in the U.S. While traveling the world and living a pretty fabulous life doing so. As time passes, hopefully he’ll remember that. And somehow I’m sure he’ll be at the next World Cup, even if they still stage it in the midst of a Lawrence of Arabia set.

Sports Year 1875

On November 13, the inaugural edition of “The Game” between Harvard and Yale is played in New Haven. The Crimson prevail 4-0 under their modified rugby rules and are named national champion.

The inaugural running of the Kentucky Derby sees Aristides in the winner’s circle.

In “association football,” a new practice known as heading the ball is introduced by players on Sheffield FC. Also, a player on Sheffield, Billy Mosforth, becomes renowned for being able to “bend” his shot. Bend It Like Billy?

The Boston Red Stockings go 71-8 and are champions of the National Association of Professional Baseball Players for a fourth consecutive season. Al Spalding goes 54-5 on the mound. The association will shorten its name to “National League” before next season.

Willie Park, Sr., wins the British Open one year after his brother, Mungo, had won. It was Willie’s fourth Open title, including in the event’s inaugural year, 1860. Park, a tall and handsome Scot, would have 10 children.

Meanwhile, our old friend Young Tom Morris meets Death’s gaze on Christmas day. It is a terrible and tragic year for the other four-time Open champ. On September 11, he and his namesake father (the third four-time Open champ) were playing a team match versus Willie and Mungo Park (really) at North Berwick when Young Tom got a telegram that his pregnant wife was having a difficult labor. Wikipedia notes that they finished the last two holes of the match (shame!), then hurried home by ship up the coast but by the time they arrived both wife and child were dead. Broken-hearted, Young Tom died four months later on Christmas day at the age of 24.

by John Walters

Starting Five

The Rx Is XX

What do the most successful nations fighting the coronavirus have in common?

Let’s look at some of the numbers first:

–New Zealand, four deaths.

–Taiwan, six deaths.

–Iceland, eight deaths.

Germany has 3,254 deaths, but its mortality rate for those stricken is below 3%, far lower than France, Italy or Spain, all western European neighbors with mortality rates above 10%. Long ago, in early February German chancellor Angela Merkel warned her nation that the coronavirus would infect up to 70% of the population. “It’s serious,” Merkel said. “Let’s take it seriously.”

Then she instituted testing. Immediately.

What do these countries have in common? From New Zealand (Jacinda Arden, above) to Iceland (Katrin Jakobsdottir) to Taiwan (Tsai Ing-Wen), they all have female leaders. Who warns you about catching a cold: mom or dad? Who’s there when you do catch cold, mom or dad?

We almost had a female leader. Thanks, Pennsylvania. And Michigan. And Wisconsin.

The Man Who Never Was

I have this recurring observation as I watch old films on TCM the past few years. Invariably, someone will be talking about Donald Trump, not by name of course, even though the film was released anywhere from 85 to 50 years ago. Happened again last night as I was watching The Man Who Never Was, a 1956 film based on the true story that is detailed in the book Operation Mincemeat. It’s all about how the British fooled the Germans into thinking a planted dead soldier with phony invasion plans was the real deal.

Fast forward to a scene from inside the Third Reich, a conversation between two German intelligence officers, one of them an admiral. Thanks to IMDB, we can re-create it in full here:

Admiral: “Well?”

Intelligence: “There’s nothing new from Madrid, Admiral. The Führer has told his conference that the documents are undoubtedly genuine.”

Admiral: “You mean HE doesn’t doubt them.”

Intelligence: “He’s quite sure.“

Admiral: “The Führer, of course, has certain advantages over mere intelligence officers like you and me, Frederick. He has his intuition, whereas we have to rely on our brains. And he’s sure God is on his side.”

Intelligence: “But you are not?”

Admiral: ” I do not believe that God is on my side to the extent of sending me the enemy’s plans.“

Sound like anyone we know?

The Great Yogi

I’ve started searching out classic Sports Illustrated stories to fill quiet moments of late. A few nights ago I found this gem from Roy Blount, Jr., in 1984. Not only is everything about it perfect, including the cover photo (Walter Iooss, of course) and the header (double entendre, but clean), but Blount’s prose is a joy. He mixes anecdotes and insights with just the right amount of glibness and respect.

Two humorous anecdotes stood out for me: the Gracie Mansion story and the check signed from Jack Buck. You’ll have to read the piece to learn the details.

However, the story that I know will stay with me is not particularly Yogi-esque but quite illuminating. Berra is the guest of honor at a father-son banquet in St. Louis where the kids will be given autographed bats and balls. In the corner are a group of boys sitting alone. Berra inquires as to who they are and is told they’re from a local orphanage. He asks if they’re getting bats and balls, too, and is told that it seemed that it was honor enough for them just to be there. Yogi promptly walks over to their table, plops a seat, and spends the rest of the evening in their company.

We always loved Yogi. And this is just one more reason why.

P.S. I also got a kick out of this Q & A with Blount from six years ago. For those of us who worked at SI, these words (again, from one of the most talented writers ever to work there) ring true:

 I think it [the story] was the magazine’s idea. Whoever the outside text editor was at the time [Myra Gelband] might have called me about it. They would usually suggest it. If it was their idea they’d think it was a good idea. If it was my idea, they’d say “Well…”

One year they called me and said, “Do you want to go to [Cubs] fantasy camp?” If I’d called up and said, “I want to go to fantasy camp” they’d say, “Well, so does everybody.”

Sign Posted

This hangs in the men’s room where I work. Thought I’d share it.

Sports Year 1874

The Victoria Hockey Club, the first known organized hockey squad (amateur), is formed in Montreal. Canadians immediately begin staying home on Saturday nights even though television sets are still more than a half-century away… Harvard and McGill play two games resembling football, or at least that’s what they call it, in May in Cambridge. The Crimson win the first 2-0 and the second game ends in a scoreless tie… Mungo Park is not the name of a rugby pitch in Sheffield but rather of this year’s British Open champion… The Boston Red Stockings win their third consecutive National Association of Professional Baseball Players championship. This league, the precursor of the National League, will exist from 1871-1875.

The Red Stockings, formed in 1871 after the dissolution of the Cincinnati Red Stockings in 1869, were the product of a pair of brothers who had been on the former team and relocated to New England. They are Harry and George Wright–yes, the Wright brothers, but not those Wright Brothers— and the team’s pitching ace is Al Spalding, who will go on to greater fortune (and fame) as the founder of Spalding sporting goods.

This Boston team, despite the name, will go on not to be the Red Sox of today but the Braves. They are the oldest continuous baseball team in existence (the Cubs were founded the same year but did not play in 1871 or 1872 thanks to Mrs. O’Leary’s cow).

by John Walters

Starting Five

Portly Authority

We don’t watch the Trump Pressers (The T.P. America doesn’t need), first of all, because we have two real jobs taking our time (humblebrag #NeitherPaysAllThatWell) and second, because we’d rather die of Covid-19 than from high blood pressure.

But apparently, Monday’s Fourth Reich briefing was a real doozy with Trump claiming that he had “total authority” (like a fuhrer) and then becoming furious when a “really nasty” female reporter kept pressing him on how much fiddling he was doing as America began to burn in February.

Trump also showed a propaganda video — enjoy it, America, you paid for it—showing how he did “everything right” even as the U.S. death totals surged to more than 23,600, some 3,000 ahead of Italy. If Trump were running the coronavirus response the way he did his businesses, he would have already filed for bankruptcy.

Saul’in’ For Time

The penultimate episode of the best season thus far of Better Call Saul was one for us viewers to catch our breaths and cleanse that piss from our palates. Last week was epic and next week’s season finale may offer a human sacrifice— it’s not looking good for Nacho, who only does everything a loyal soldier and son should… maybe he should’ve taken out Lalo when he had the chance near the well?

The theme of this week’s episode, if not the entire series, and they repeated it in case anyone wasn’t paying attention, is that we all make choices and that those choices lead us down a road… a road we cannot ever fully turn back from. We’ve long subscribed to this ethos? Good people, bad people? Not so much, although there are a few on either side. Most of us are just decent people who in the thrill of the moment make a choice, sometimes not wisely, sometimes without a clear head, sometimes taking more risk than we know we ought. Is that how we always are? Maybe, maybe not.

We are all — Jimmy McGill, Mike Ehrmentraut, Kim Wexler, you, me— a product of the decisions we’ve made. Some matter more than others. We seldom realize how impactful some of them are at the moment we make them. I’ll think about that while I’m at work tomorrow. 🙂

RIP XFL

Also killed by the coronavirus: The XFL. Little did we know when we spent the first weekend of March tuning into four XFL contests for a Sports Illustrated story that we’d be watching the final weekend of the league’s existence. Six weeks. Not a bad run, but the XFL simply couldn’t stay afloat financially because of the virus. It filed for bankruptcy today, owing an awful lot of people an awful lot of money.

Here again is where you have to give Donald Trump credit. Some 35 or so years ago he helped kill off the first spring football league, the USFL. Now he helped destroy another.

The Clean Air Virus

We went for a bike ride on Easter Sunday. We climbed to the top of a nearby promontory which put us about 50 to 100 foot above most of this area of the southeast Valley. We looked around. And what we saw blew us away.

Sometimes in the Valley of the Sun, after a particularly rollicking rain storm or monsoon, the skies will clear here and locals will see mountains at the northern edge of the Superstitions or north of Carefree, or even south beyond the San Tans, that they don’t ordinarily see. But it hasn’t rained in Phoenix, really rained, in more than two weeks.

So what was it? A Resurrection glow? We think it was two to three weeks of very little traffic and we have to say, It looks MAH-velous. Hate what the coronavirus is doing to individuals and how it is taxing health-care workers. Love what it is doing for the environment. We don’t need Big Oil. And the virus is illuminating how much better of a planet this will be without it.

Of course there is something ironic about a disease that robs its victims of the ability to breathe being responsible for such clean air, now isn’t there?

Sports Year 1873

At a hotel on 5th Avenue, representatives of the four major football schools (sorry, Stevens Tech) meet on October 19 and codify college football rules for the first time.

For the first time ever, the British Open is contested at St. Andrews. And the Claret Jug is bequeathed to the winner who, for the first time in four years, is not Young Tom Morris, but rather Tom Kidd. So, still a Tom and still implying youth, but different.

The Toronto Argonauts football club is formed for reasons that are not entirely clear. This is like inventing the space suit right after the Wright Brothers arrived home from Kitty Hawk.

The two big heavyweights, Mike McCoole and Tom Allen, meet outside of St. Louis on Chateau Island. Allen prevails in 7 rounds in a bare-knuckle bout.

The year only goes downhill from there for McCoole, who arrested for the shooting and murder of another pugilist, Patsy Manley. McCoole is acquitted when none of the witnesses show up to testify, but his career is over, his saloon soon closes, and while he avoids being sent up the river, he does move down the river to New Orleans, where he will work until his death in 1886.