Where Have You Gone, Andy Carroll?

Today is Super Bowl Sunday. However, I will pointedly not write at length about the NFL. For god's sake, the pre-game coverage on Fox started 4 1/2 hours before kickoff. That doesn't take into account the weeks of hype on all sports channels. Nothing in sports is interesting enough to merit that much coverage, except for the World Cup and the San Francisco Giants.

I say this as a football fan, but I cannot bring myself to be interested in the hours and hours of announcers hyping the game. Today's pre-game coverage is likely to be longer than the actual time of play, and almost as long as the halftime show. The last few years, the Super Bowl pre-game coverage has felt like nothing more than an extended commercial for chips, beer, and other stereotypically American-male pursuits.

So instead, I will write about the other football.

Newcastle United sit mid-table in the Premier League, 5 points above the teams in the relegation zone but with a game in hand--which means they have played one game fewer so far, which means they have an extra chance to earn points to pull further away from danger. That's a decent position to be in, but to ensure safety, they need goals, and they just sold their leading goalscorer, Andy Carroll. Not only is he a Newcastle native--which means that he should have stayed to lead the line for Newcastle, despite some rougher aspects to his personality--but his sale seriously depletes Newcastle's offensive capabilities

True, they sold him for a ridiculous amount: 35 million pounds to Liverpool--although to be fair to Liverpool, they basically used the 50 million pound sale of Fernando Torres to Chelsea to buy Carroll and Luis Suarez, turning one talented striker into two. (By the way, I love the fact that Chelsea just lost to Liverpool, 1-0, at home at Stamford Bridge, in Torres' first start for his new team.)

35 million pounds is a hefty sum of money for reinforcing a team. The problem is, with the sale of Carroll happening on the last day of the January transfer window, Newcastle had no time to buy a replacement player. Yes, they have funds now to make a considered purchase or two in the summer, but now there is a deepening injury crisis. Shola Ameobi, the natural replacement for Carroll, broke his cheekbone in the first game after the sale and is out for months. The young and encouragingly-named Leon Best has scored a few goals, but just picked up a hamstring injury. Since the transfer window is now closed, Newcastle's only options are emergency loans of players from other clubs or signing a player who is currently out of contract. As a general rule, you would have to think there would be a reason why a player would be out of contract at this time.

Where will the goals come from to keep Newcastle in the Premier League? And more importantly, how can I find a good Newcastle player to represent my fantasy team? While Carroll has been out injured, there has been no one. I wanted to change that, but to whom? I want to pick someone who is likely to earn points. It's not just about waving the flag, you know. I ruthlessly changed the captaincy of my team from Andrei Arshavin to Carlos Tevez, who promptly scored a hat trick to earn me 38 points on his own. And that is what sports is really all about, fulfilling my sense of self-worth and cunning.

Yes, even with a depleted arsenal, Newcastle managed to rally for four goals to draw with Arsenal--yes, the pun was intended--but can that continue? I'll be interested to see who they can find to score goals. At this point, I want them to scrape enough points to stay up, and then buy some strong replacement players in the summer. That would feel like a great accomplishment.

And yes, I'm aware of the irony of complaining about boredom over the commercialization of the NFL, only to write about the implications of buying and selling players in soccer. What can I say? I care about Newcastle United. I emphatically don't care about cheap, watery beer and men who care passionately about chips.

Random Observations On Watching Sports; Or, Why Aren't I Being Paid For This?

--While watching the halftime coverage of the Miami Heat versus the Oklahoma City Thunder, I witnessed the following:

Michael Wilbon, on what he gathers from the fact that the Lakers viewed a tape of one particular game from last year's Finals before today's rematch with the Celtics: "It means Phil Jackson wants to win this game."

As opposed to every other game of the season, which he wants to lose.

--The Oklahoma City Thunder should really still be in Seattle as the Sonics. Nothing about sports should change from when I was a kid without getting my approval. This would not have earned my approval.

--Except for the Giants winning a World Series. That is an example of change in sports from when I was kid that is totally acceptable and needed no prior approval.

--I do like seeing the Thunder give the Heat all they can handle. Russell Westbrook is fun to watch. He stole the ball from James, drove the length of the court, and dished the ball to a teammate on the wing for a three-pointer even while colliding with a Heat defender. That is the sort of elegance that I enjoy in basketball, hard work and a keen pass, intelligent movement away from the ball by Westbrook's teammate, that doesn't rely exclusively on pure athleticism and spectacle.

--Watching Mexican soccer, I can pick up the gist of what the announcers say sometimes, from a smattering of Spanish I've learned, along with the context of the game. But there are certain moments when the announcers start screaming as if the world has come to an end, and I find this bewildering, because there are no goals, no blatant fouls, no alien invasion erupting in the middle of the pitch.

--The NFL's Pro Bowl is on today. It is absolutely pointless. Therefore, as an American sports fan, I am expected to derive some sort of enthusiasm all on my own. The timing of the game is weird, as it is the week before the Super Bowl, which means that the players from the Steelers and the Packers will not be there. The game serves neither as a welcome break partway through the season, a fun little sideshow, nor as a final bit of dessert to cap the season. Yet, somehow, the NFL moved the Pro Bowl to this time as a marketing ploy? It baffles me.

--I'm torn on the Super Bowl. Marina has a friend and a cousin--specifically, a cousin-in-law (shouldn't such a term exist?)--who are Packer fans, but Vaughn is a Steelers fan. Vaughn has a prior claim on borrowing my allegiance for the game, but Ben Roethlisberger, while a remarkable athlete, is apparently pretty sleazy as a human being. Decisions, decisions. Maybe I should auction off my allegiance?

Human Traffic

There's a rumor that Tottenham offered Newcastle 30 million pounds for striker Andy Carroll. There are two things that should strike that as odd to the American sports fan: one, why would anyone want to leave Newcastle for Tottenham (other than the prospects for Champions League soccer, the London life, more money, a more organized and more dynamic team contending to the top of table: trifling matters, all); two, could you imagine the Yankees, say, buying Cliff Lee from the Rangers in the middle of the season for $45 million dollars?

Actually, it doesn't seem that much different than a mid-season trade between teams, such as when the Rangers acquired Cliff Lee from the Mariners for several players this past season. The difference is the composition of the exchange. In soccer, it is typically a sale, although the occasional exchange of players does occur. In baseball, of course, sales of players have happened, most infamously when the Red Sox owner sold a young pitcher named Babe Ruth to the Yankees for enough money to finance a Broadway play.*

So in either case, teams have the ability to bolster their squads during the season. With soccer, there is the January transfer window, a time of hot gossip and rumors and salacious details about who's moving where and for how much money. In baseball, there are the rumors about which failing teams are prostituting their talented players to which contenders for future prospects. Basically, the same transactions, except on the one hand, it is for money, and on the other, for players.

What's the difference? Both involve money, really, but with soccer it is a more direct involvement, cutting out the representative markers of actual players.

Is there a reason for the difference, be it cultural or economic?

My first thought was that of the salary cap. In football, a salary cap means that trades of players must involve contracts of approximately the same value. In this case, an exchange of players requires a flexibility when it comes to the roster that isn't required in European soccer, where teams can simply buy a boatload of talent--up to a limit, of course, based on rules dictating the number of "homegrown" players that must be included on a 25 man roster--and there we get into all sorts of European labor issues that, while fascinating, are beyond the scope of a random sports blog.

The problem with this comparison is that there is no salary cap in baseball. There is a luxury tax for teams whose payrolls exceed a certain limit each year, which could act as a salary cap, except that the teams that have paid it, the Yankees and the Red Sox, for example, don't care about a salary cap, because they basically print their own money as baseball marketing empires.

Is it cultural? Free agency marked a big change in American sports scene. Prior to the struggles of Curt Flood and his successors, teams could hold on to a player even without a signed contract; players had no leverage, no unions, and could be sold or not sold depending on the desire of the owner. Free agency means that players have a lot more control over their careers by seeing out a contract and being free to go where they wish.

This does not seem like it would preclude players being sold in the middle of their contracts, though, assuming the buying team could reach an agreement with the player, much as a soccer team will generally try to negotiate contractual terms with the player after having a bid accepted by the team and before the transfer is actually complete. Furthermore, soccer does have a form of free agency, ever since the Bosman Ruling.

So what is it about American sports versus soccer that promotes the use of trades in the one and transfers or straight sales on the other? Does it matter? Does it have a root in different labor cultures? I genuinely want to know.



* No, No, Nanette for those trivia buffs among you

Et Tu, NFL?

Ever since Major League Baseball's 1994 season was cut short due a labor dispute, it has had to work hard to regain a following, and many in the media now say that American football, in the NFL, is now America's Game.

Now it looks like the NFL may follow baseball's shortsighted path, with the owners set to possibly lock out players next year for some or all of the season. In today's paper, I read that ESPN personality and former quarterback Ron Jaworski is guessing that between two and seven weeks of next season will be wiped out.

That seems like very poor timing. When the minimum salary is still several hundred thousand dollars, and when the owners are exceedingly wealthy men, to think of the stadiums sitting empty and desolate on weekend after weekend, when there are fans who need their circus to escape thoughts of their own economic worries, well, that just seems wrong.

I'm all for the rights of labor unions to negotiate for equitable pay and good working conditions. And yes, the owners have the right to close their businesses, in theory, if you want to look at football from a business standpoint, which you have to do. And yes, it is an expensive business for the owners who do have to pay high salaries, and yes, the players deserve to be paid very well for sacrificing their health and their bodies, gladiators except for not being slaves.

But let's just say that the NFL is not hurting in terms of revenue, and if I wasn't sympathetic to the Muni unions who wanted to strike when the drivers make almost three times what I make in a year, I would be hard-pressed to sympathize with people who make at least 30 times what I make in a year.

It is a fascinating thing in a troubled economy to watch all these people with so much money scrapping to make even more. It's why the Republicans got so much support, although how they managed to convince middle-class and lower-class Americans to vote against their own best interest is remarkable.

If I can't afford to go to games now, I'm certainly not going to be able to with the inevitable price increases that will be seen, regardless of how the labor negotiations go. And even if I could afford it, I don't think I would want to anyway. As long as there is baseball and soccer, I'll be just fine, and any such lockout will simply cement football's place as my third favorite sport.

Am I missing anything? Is there any rational justification for the owners to lock out the players? Or rather, any rational justification that does not involve treating the game as a business only and the fans as customers to be served poorly?

The Pendulum Swings

2010 has left, borne into the glorious past on the shoulders of a World Series victory for the Giants, leaving behind the forgettable details of a 49er football team mired in futility, and whose change of head coach and presumably quarterback will hopefully end this recent reign of error at Candlestick.

Spring Training begins in a matter of months, and no one gives the Giants any shot of repeating. The Phillies have been anointed champs already with the signing of Cliff Lee, so I guess there's no point in playing the games, then.

Alas, Edgar Renteria claims to have been insulted that the Giants offered him "only" $1 million dollars to come play one more season. All the people who attempt to justify his indignation need to adjust their definition of disrespect.

In the meantime, it is time to refocus on the English Premier League. Newcastle is in the thick of a relegation dogfight, with all teams ranked between 11th and 18th in table all within three points of each other. So that will be an ongoing narrative of survival, a question of adjusting life bit by bit, earning enough points to stay up in the Premier League, which is, of course, what most of us are trying to do in the metaphorical Premier League of life.

Without an apparent chance of Newcastle winning the title or qualifying for Europe, and with more anti-management anger after Chris Hughton was abruptly fired, the season becomes, for me, a matter of neutral enjoyment, with a tendency to hope for Arsenal or even Manchester United to beat Chelsea to the title.

And so it was that I watched Manchester travel to play West Bromwich Albion today, in the hope that I would see fine attacking soccer from a high-quality team, thinking that West Brom's injury crisis in defense would allow Manchester to play a free-flowing game and hopefully provide me with lots of fantasy points through Javier "Chicharito" Hernandez and Darren Fletcher.

The game was entertaining, but as always, nothing was simple. West Brom was clearly struggling on defense, conceding within three minutes to a fine header from Wayne Rooney, but for the bulk of the game, the Baggies, playing in front of a home crowd, looked much more enthusiastic on offense, harder-working, more dangerous. In particular, Chris Brunt, James Morrison, Jerome Thomas and Graham Dorrans were out-hustling the more famous names of Patrice Evra, Gabriel Obertan, and Dimitar Berbatov to the 50-50 balls, and Morrison scored the best goal I've seen this year on a long-range volley, and Manchester United was extremely fortunate to avoid being down to ten men when Gary Neville escaped unpunished for a tackle in the box that should have resulted in a penalty kick and a red card.

But the difference in quality in these teams showed through, as it so often does in the other 9 times out of ten encounters between a David and a Goliath. And it showed through in just a couple of details, a few moments that made all the difference. West Brom justly earned a penalty kick in the second half when Jerome Thomas cut past Rio Ferdinand who blatantly tripped him. This should have been the moment of redemption, a moment of justice for the earlier penalty that was not awarded. But Peter Odemwingie, in stepping up to take the penalty, twelve yards away from the goal, rolled the ball woefully wide of the post. And moments later, perhaps distracted by that failure, perhaps suffering from an abrupt withdrawal of momentum, West Brom's defense collapsed on a corner kick, allowing Hernandez to direct an unchallenged header into the goal for the win.

So in this game, as in so much of life, the (Red) Devil was in the details, but there was a lot of joy to be had in the big picture as well, for an entertaining game that could have gone the other way just as easily.

Dream Fallout

So, there were two things that I felt most strongly about in terms of the Giants' off-season agenda: 1) retaining Aubrey Huff; and 2) retaining Juan Uribe. They seemed at the heart of the magical run. At the very least, let's keep them around for a victory lap, right?

Yes, Edgar Renteria was vital too, but considering his age and fragility, I was okay with letting him ride off into the sunset under the Golden Gate Bridge by way of a richly-deserved yet environmentally-friendly yacht, either into retirement, or a nightcap of a season or two with another team--although capping a career with another World Series-winning hit to go along with his winner in 1997 would be tough to top. And yes, I was thrilled to have Pat Burrell on the team, for the local flavor, the big hits in the season, and the classic baseball nickname of "Pat the Bat", but his lack of mobility meant I would much rather the Giants extend Cody Ross and Andres Torres.

Step 1: Accomplished! We signed Aubrey to a richly deserved contract extension, 2 years with an option for a third, $22 million guaranteed. He can play first base or in the outfield, and he's just a big ball of fun and magic. His versatility will be key, especially if Brandon Belt, ostensibly the next Buster Posey, matriculates to the majors next season.

But, Step 2: Ugh. Um. Huh. Juan Uribe just signed a three year, $21 million deal. With the Dodgers.

What the hell?

Juan, you are related to Jose Uribe. You inherited the OOOOREEEEBAY cheer. How can you wear Dodger Blue?

Well, he has his reasons. Granted, those reasons are in the amount of $21 million, so you can't really blame him. He wanted a multi-year contract, and $7 million a year is, well, $7 million a year. Reports have varied as to what the Giants offered him, so I don't know what to think about that, although the Chronicle reports the Giants offered 3 years for $20 million, which, if true, either means that the Giants were unwilling to pay $1 million more or that Juan ignored the pull of trying to repeat over $1 million. Yes, $1 million seems like an enormous sum, but when you look at it as a percentage of the whole, it doesn't seem so much. Objectively, if he felt that was the best deal for him, then so be it. Baseball is a business, and objectively, there is no reason why a player shouldn't move from the Giants to the Dodgers or vice versa. It's just a matter of one city over another, one business over another. People change jobs all the time.

And it does not negate the magic of this past year in any way. Nor does it mean that Giants fans will have to automatically hate Juan the first time we play Los Angeles.

But there is something about it that just feels wrong. Baseball is not just a business, despite what the cynics say. But such is life; business does play a large role. Although, apparently the Dodgers made an aggressive run at Huff as well, so maybe the rivalry has just been taken to the business side as well.

And then you have the Giants' first response: a one year, $6.5 million contract to Miguel Tejada. Tejada has roots here from the A's and should provide good hitting, but he is older than Uribe by five years, and he was named in the Mitchell Report for steroid-affiliation. This isn't what we need, after Jose Guillen's brief fling with the Giants at the end of the year that was quickly linked to a delivery of HGH, not to mention the looming controversy of Barry Bonds and BALCO.

But the deal seems reasonable in dollars, and there are a few young prospects who could be groomed under Tejada. So we shall see. But it doesn't feel like the perfect coda to a championship symphony of a year.

Let's be sure to extend Cody Ross's contract, okay?

What It Means To Say San Francisco Giants, 2010 World Champion

The San Francisco Giants are World Series Champions. What does that mean in the grand scheme of things, other than the all-important truth that we have now won a World Series more recently than the Yankees and the Dodgers?

I have spent my life hoping that it would happen. Now that it has, it's hard to find the words to express what it means. The Giants won the World Series? Seriously? All this after being predicted to finish fourth in the division? You would think it was a straightforward question, the meaning of a World Series victory, but no.

The first game I ever attended was with Dad and our landlord in Santa Rosa. The Giants beat the Atlanta Braves at Candlestick Park behind Bob Brenly's three errors and two home runs. That was back in 1986. Rob Schneider, of all people, mentioned that exact game on the televised coverage of the celebratory parade (I am allergic to his comedy, generally, but he turned out to be an articulate and devoted Giants fan), which made me feel a link a larger world.

Obviously the Giants have been close before, in 1989 and 2002. That story has been covered many times. And what the victory means to me is probably not the same as it means to other fans, so all I can write about it is what it means to me. And even then, I'll stick to what I would like it to mean, because I'm still too close to it all.

All the pressure is off! Now that we've won a championship, outlasting all comers, we can sit back and enjoy the beauty of baseball qua baseball. Maybe Barry Zito can relax and just let the ball fly now, without the pressure of living up to his mega-inflated salary. And it will certainly make things easier for Marina, as I'll be able to resist yelling and swearing at the TV for a good long time, at least until April.