Two Songs For Today

These Are Days
10,000 Maniacs
Our Time In Eden












Something Good This Way Comes
Jakob Dylan
Seeing Things

I'm Joe and that's how I see it.

Charles Cathen Sabathia...What Happened to the Black Baseball Player

I'm going for the Yankees. Write it down, take a picture, remember it. I don't care what you think of me for saying it, and meaning it.

I was born in 1974, and the first World Series I remember watching with my Dad was the 1978 one wherein the Yankees won. I don't remember much other than Billy Martin, the pinstripes, learning the difference between home and away jerseys and Reggie Jackson. #44 was the only Black player I'd ever seen. I think at the time, I hadn't been to a baseball game, and more importantly, in Dallas at the time, as it is today, football was king. But the Yankees had this elegant, confident, well-spoken man in Reggie Jackson, and he was their biggest star.

The little bits of his small afro would jut out from under his cap just so to the left and right, and he wore shades at night under the lights. He was all-world in my book. I loved #44 because he looked like my Dad and because Dad loved #44 too.

As I grew older, baseball was something that I played with my brother and my cousins. But, we weren't really serious about it. We had a plastic bat and ball combo that couldn't really break windows, and that was the extent of our baseball. My cousin Reggie was an excellent ballplayer, and later my cousin Driscoll played too, but it seemed that other sports held our attention longer, namely football and basketball or even tennis and golf.

But, growing up in Dallas, the hometown team, the Texas Rangers, were abysmal. They were absolutely horrible, and the only thing that made them bearable was the addition of Nolan Ryan at pitcher. I don't remember the Rangers having any Black ballplayers. And the few that I thought were Black were actual Latino players like Ruben Sierra (whom I met at Fogo de Choa on my 28th birthday...big thrill).

I had to look elsewhere to find Black ballplayers that I liked like Ozzie Smith in St. Louis, or Andre Dawson of the Cubs or Dave Winfield of the Yankees/A's and even Tony Gwynn in San Diego. Even still, none of these guys were pitchers until Glenn 'Oil Can' Boyd and Dwight 'Doc' Gooden of the Red Sox and Mets respectively.

And in the 1986 World Series, they met. But to be honest, I haven't seen it since. Of course, Game 6 was the game that defined the series and baseball at that point. But where, oh where are the Black ballplayers?

Can you name any? Seriously? Sure there was Cecil Fielder in Detroit, Mo Vaughn in Boston, and McLemore in Texas, and we've had scores of Black managers like Cito Gaston, Hal McRae and Frank Robinson, but not until the mid to late 90s did we see a mild swelling of the numbers.

Back then, there was a steady stream; Barry Bonds in Pittsburgh and later San Francisco, Tony Gwynn out in San Diego and Ken Griffey, Sr. and then his son Ken Griffey, Jr. in Seattle and then out of nowhere there was Derek Jeter in New York, wearing a single number no less, 2. Jeter was dependable, quiet, a strong leader and a hard worker, and bi-racial, but still at the same time unabashedly and proudly Black. And at one time, Griffey was baseball's biggest star until the 1994 strike, and the homerun chase of 1998.

I guess the real context to my question about where the Black players are is so profound because of the fact that simply integrating the league was so difficult when Jackie Robinson did it in 1947. His presence, his fortitude and his strength and integrity were so strong that today, every single team in Major League Baseball has retired his number. Do you understand what that means? This man, and his actions were so great that no one, anywhere in the history of the game can ever wear his number. That's serious. And that's because there is no other like him.

But part of me thinks that when Jackie's number was retired, there was a quiet deal made wherein no other Black players would succeed in numbers. That was the reason that when the Phillies won last year, it was so thrilling to see that they did so off of the bats of Ryan Howard and Jimmy Rollins, two of the more prominent and visible players on the team. It gives one hope.

But then, I never understood why there was so much fuss over C.C. Sabathia. I assumed with his name that he too was a Latino player. Not until two weeks ago when my friend Antoy told me otherwise was I shocked to find out that C.C., named Charles Cathen Sabathia, is an African American player from Valejo, CA. The highest paid pitcher in Major League Baseball is Black. He plays on the most visible team in the world, the New York Yankees. He plays with the sport's ultimate sportsman and leader in Derek Jeter who is also Black, and he is 27 outs away from his first world championship win tonight. And to top all of that off, C.C. has been outspoken over the fact that Major League Baseball, for all its greatnesses has done little to nothing to promote the values and positive qualities of playing baseball in the inner-cities of America. He has been very critical of Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig to be more proactive in this area, and not been a silent athlete like so many others.

How fitting that the first team I cheered for at my father's knee, the Yankees, would have the Reggie Jackson of today in Derek Jeter and would have the most feared pitcher in the game, C.C. Sabathia on the same team? Sure, I'm sure there is no social agenda here, the Yankees want to win, but I'm sure, tonight when the Yankees win and bring the 40th world championship back to New York City and wrestle it away from Philadelphia, that somewhere those nameless, countless others; Satchel Paige, Josh Gibson, Don Newcombe, Donn Clendenon, Willie Mays, Roy Campanella, Jackie Robinson, Hank Aaron, Bob Gibson, Vida Blue and countless others are smiling, smiling, smiling.

But where are the Black ballplayers? Is it because to excel in baseball one now goes to camps to learn to hit, field, pitch and throw? And those same camps aren't as accessible in inner-city communities as in suburban ones? Is it because while the baseball diamonds are still in the parks, rarely if ever are they used outside of recreational play? Is it because it's an expensive sport? What are the reasons? It makes no sense that America's past time, which arguably has had some of its greatest contributors to come from the African American community, is hard pressed to produce more talented players today. Is this more indicative of the educational systems or is this simply a case of, who cares? And no, believe me when I say that baseball is not the panacea to what ails the African American community, but there are countless opportunities available to those who are skilled in this area, and yet we let opportunity after opportunity pass us by year by year in this regard.

Sure there are bigger issues, bigger problems, but it's a curious notion that a thing that was fought so hard and desperately for is now not even an issue. Have we come to that point? Is a little bit enough? If that's how you feel, fine. But to think for a moment that involvement in an organized and positive activity like baseball doesn't have a lasting positive effect on a young person is ludicrous. Baseball may not be able to cure all of the ills of our society, but it definitely can't hurt it, nor can it's lessons of teamwork, sacrifice, leadership and accountability. Think about it.

I'm Joe and that's how I see it.

Paul Gauguin

I've come to appreciate the sensibility, beauty, simplicity and the silent commentary in Gauguin's work in his later years. Of the Tahitian series, these are some of my favorite.

I'm Joe, and that's how I see it.

Cowboy Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message "Our season is Dead."
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

They were my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love this season would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

- W.H. Auden & J.S. Carlos

Feeling Numb

The 2006-07 Dallas Mavericks were a thing of pure beauty; driven determination, confidence, wins and a mission to not only return to the Finals, but to win them.

If the regular season alone indicated the NBA champion, then I would have written this blog from Dallas while sitting in the grandstand at City Hall watching a parade that ended with the Larry O'Brien trophy.

But it doesn't.

The post-season is where champions are made, and I think my hometown team, the Dallas Mavericks, never grasped that during this year's playoffs. I remember growing up in Dallas, when the playoffs were a dream, not a given like they are now. I remember when getting there was just enough, and winning was merely a dream. That was the way that Golden State approached the playoffs.

And that, and that alone is why Golden State beat the Dallas Mavericks in six games during the first round of the NBA Playoffs.

Was AJ outcoached by Nellie? Sure.
Did Baron Davis outplay Nowitzki? Absolutely.
Was the crowd in Oakland more impactful? Probably so.

But in the end, it came down to desire. I don't really feel that Dallas particularly cared, and I think these Mavs were tired. No one is taking into account the games that they have played in the last three years. In 2005, the Mavs were ousted from the second round. In 2006, Dallas lost the NBA Finals in 6 games and this year, the Mavs won 67 games, they were tired.

Back to my questions. Nellie did outcoach AJ, but given his years and experience, that is to be expected. But then again AJ has been where Nellie never has as a coach, and definitely not as a first or second year coach, so get off of the General's back please.

Baron Davis showed heart, determination, soul, compassion, passion, energy, undeniability. Dirk proved his critics correctly by being listless, disinterested and ultimately feckless in the final game of the series. Yes, there were other Mavs on the floor, but can anyone honestly say that Josh Howard didn't come to play, or that Stackhouse didn't come to play after a shaky start? Can anyone honestly say that Devin Harris didn't play well or that Diop wasn't a formidable force? No. Jason Terry was seemingly invisible in this series, but then again, it all falls on the MVP candidate...Dirk.

Nowitzki faded away before our very eyes, and the commentators never really attacked him for it nearly with the zeal that they condemned Steven Jackson for his emotion and tenacity. Give me Steven Jackson in a minute, problems and all, because he's going to leave it all on the floor, and he's done it before. Real Mavs fans know that it was him, and really him alone who did the Mavs in during the 2003 Western Conference Finals.

Nowitzki will get the heap of the blame because he would also have gotten the praise had Dallas won as well. It comes with the territory that is fame, money and big time professional sports. And it when it mattered most, he didn't perform. This will be remembered forever, and this will be replayed forever, just like the shot of Dikembe Mutumbo gripping the ball in pure joy when an 8 seed defeated a 1 seed in 1994 has been played ad nauseam. And this time, when the clip of Davis bumping Nowitzki and drilling a three as #41 flops to the floor is played until my unborn sons and daughters see it and recognize it, it will be a constant and consistent reminder of the disappointment that this season was.

I feel numb because why should I care, if they didn't? I mean, I'm just a fan. They're the one's whose job it was to win, not mine. It was my job to brag and be philosophical.

But, I should've seen this coming. The last time we won our divisional championship, we lost in the first round of the playoffs to the upstart Seattle Supersonics and Dale Ellis who was a former Maverick. How fitting that 20 years ago to the date, the Mavs lost at the hands of their former head coach who brought winning ways back to the oft maligned and seemingly plagued team?

So when you want to know how I'm feeling about this, I'm feeling numb.

I'm Joe, and that's how I see it.

All That I Can Say

I was raised in Dallas, Texas. Growing up in Dallas in the 1980s and 90s, there was one main thing that binded us all; the Dallas Cowboys. I have watched with great enjoyment, Super Bowl parades and been engulfed by tickertape. I have gone to pep rallys at Texas Stadium before the NFC Championship games and before Super Bowls. I have taken on a hostile group of Cheeseheads with my brother and father at DFW Airport.

Nixon said, in his farewell speech that "greatness comes not when things go always good for you, but the greatness comes when you are really tested, when you take some knocks, some disappointments, when sadness comes, because only if you have been in the deepest valley can you ever know how magnificent it is to be at the highest mountain." In American sport, and in that most American of sports, football, this is so very true. We live and die emotionally by the success of our favorite teams, and I am no different a fan today on January 6, 2007 as I was when I tearfully accepted the fact the Roger Staubach retired or the bitterly cold January 1982 night when Dwight Clark caught 'The Catch' or the 1995 NFC Championship game which put me in a funk for two weeks.

So, with the feeling of the highs and lows, I watched tonight's playoff game of the 2006 version of my city's most favorite sons. And I watched the highs and the exquisitely painful lows of a truly up and down season filled with missed opportunities, inconsistencies, and countless wonder of what could have been. Tonight's game typified the season wherein the lack of concentration cost Dallas ultimately.

One can easily look back at the season and say that Terrell Owens is to blame, but that's too easy and in most cases incorrect. However, had T.O. caught one more pass in Philly, and one more pass at Washington, Dallas would've more than likely been 11-5 instead of 9-7. Had he caught one more pass against the Giants on MNF, the Pokes would've more than likely been 12-4. But, despite all of those drops, and all of the hoopla, the Cowboys were still in the playoffs, and still very much in the game, with their destiny and season firmly in their own hands. And what did they do? They fumbled it.

I can only imagine if Vick or Vince had fumbled that snap how they would be demonized in the national press. But, since it was Romo, it'll probably be pretty light. Somewhere between Brent Buckner, Leon Lett and the cat from Georgetown who threw the ball to the UNC player in the national championship game.

Excuses can and will be made, but he fumbled the ball, and we lost the game. As I get older, the losses are both harder and easier to handle. Harder, because I have a greater respect and understanding for the amazing set of circumstances that one must undertake to be in the position that professional football teams are in when in the playoffs, and yet still lose focus. Easier, because I am always encouraged by...next year. Had Romo been more cognisant of the first down, instead of the touchdown, and had he dove to the goal line, then his six foot frame alone would've gotten him a first down, and the Pokes could've punched it in by handing it to Barber. But, he had his eyes on that endzone, and his focused narrowed, and ultimately cost the Cowboys the season. Once again, I can only wonder what easy fodder this would've proved for commentators nationwide had it been Vick or Vince who fumbled the season away.

Well, this one will hurt for some time, because there was so much promise in the 2006 version of the city's favorite sons. But there is the refreshingly sweet solace that can only be provided by a win over the Spurs on the road on Friday night, and currently a 13 game win streak by the city's favorite kid brothers and its fiery little coach so full of vim, vigor and purpose.

The Things We Think and Do Not Say

1. The futility that is the Atlanta Falcons is as much Michael Vick's fault as it is that of the coordinators and coaches.
2. Michael Vick is far too sensitive.
3. Black Enterprise magazine, though I love and respect Earl Graves, really dropped the ball by not printing any of the letters about their 'Top 50 Colleges' list.
4. Chris Collinsworth says several questionably racist things on 'Inside the NFL.'
5. Steve Young doesn't like Michael Irvin, and really doesn't want to sit next to him on the ESPN set.
6. If Michael Irvin doesn't make the Hall of Fame, it will be his own fault.
7. Maybe that Eli Manning-Philip Rivers trade was a great idea after all.
8. If LaDanian Tomlinson is not the NFL MVP then what credible reason could be used?
9. There's a strong chance that Tony Romo could make the ProBowl.
10. ESPN is like nectar from Mt. Olympus.
11. The loss of Ed Bradley leaves a deeper void in credible and professional journalism than one could imagine.
12. Why are the vast majority of sports talk radio hosts rabid right wingers?
13. Bob Costas is overrated.
14. There should be term limits in the United States Senate and in the House of Representatives.
15. Vince Young is going to prove them wrong on this level, just like he did on the previous level. That's what he does. He defies odds.
16. Notre Dame is the most overrated, unproven and pumped up team in all of sport.
17. If you read more about famous people, you'll like them less and less.
18. 'Stop This Train' by John Mayer is a beautiful song.
19. Jay-Z has become a bigger star than anyone in rap history.
20. Beatles 'Love' is well worth the sticker price.
21. There are some great movies coming out in December, but my guilty pleasure has to be 'Rocky Balboa.'
22. Joe Theisman isn't good at what he does because he's a contrarian. He was an okay quarterback, who on the strength of others won a Super Bowl, and thinks he's Unitas.
23. If Dungy doesn't get it done this year, the fingers will start pointing his way.
24. Why did Romo sit on the bench for so long?
25. If the Falcons don't have a winning season, it will be one of the greatest wastes of talent in the history of the NFL.
26. Falcon fans, like Redskin fans before them, must learn that just because the owner spends a lot of money doesn't mean that you're going to win the Super Bowl. You still have to play the games.
27. If I ever see John Ridley on the street, it's on.
28. Michael Richards should go on Larry King Live and get it over with.

I'm Joe, and that's how I see it.