(Part 5 - Conclusion)
Past Disconsolations and Future Deconstructions of a Kansas City Chiefs Fan (Go to Part 1)
“The Los Angeles Chiefs.”
Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?
Okay, okay, before you go ballistic on me now, hold on. Just hold on—whoa up, I said whoa up for a minute…
Can there be any reasonable explanation for the fact that the second largest market in the country has been utterly bereft of any NFL presence in any way for the entirety of the past 14 years? Do you realize that for 14 barren forsaken years the NFL has done without the gobs and gobs and more gobs of revenue a Los Angeles franchise would produce for NFL-itude all around?
What could possibly be the reason behind such a patently insane state of affairs?!
Well, there is actually a reason, one which makes perfect sense for all NFL things financial, and it highlights the real issue with the individual pro football markets.
Let's start with the markets first. Because the NFL gets most of it revenue from the gargantuous television contracts it has with the various networks, money that is spread equally among all the teams, there isn’t really a whole lot any given ballclub can do to directly use its market to get better players on its team. Free agency really isn’t a workable item for pro football, and that is simply because the careers of pro football players are so short and the team dynamic is so important that shifting around players too much won’t provide any given team the capacity to gel so it can win.
So what is it precisely that a team owner can do to make the team more marketable? There are really only a couple of things, and both of them are major. The first is simply to provide the best stadium accommodations there can possibly be. Sure this involves rows upon rows of luxury boxes, but any businessperson will assess the market and respond accordingly.
Every year Forbes puts out its infamous list of “10 Teams Most Likely to Move.” The three NFL teams to make it most recently were the Vikings, Bills, and 49ers. When you look at those three teams you’d think, “Golly, those have been some pretty successful teams!” (Actually, the Niners haven’t had a winning season in six years, but they are practically married to the Bay Area.) What gives?
It is one thing, and one thing only: Each has a really crappy stadium arrangement.
Now to the Chiefs. Arrowhead has always been one of the prime spots to watch pro football anywhere. It has always been an exceptional facility, and even after 30-some-odd years it is holding up so well that (yay!) the Chiefs didn’t make the Forbes list. Clark Hunt oh-so-well knows the virtues of having a primo stadium situation, so he is now looking to pour his monetary contribution into what he can do there.
What is it that gets all team owners going ga-ga to make sure their own market situations are top-notch?
This is the answer to the Los Angeles question.
Because there it is. Out there just waiting, lying there on the left coast.
Los Angeles.
All this time Los Angeles has been used as leverage to force other markets to invest gobs of money to stay viable. I remember from the little that I read about the Cincinnati stadium situation that its people were getting soaked to make sure their sporting venue enjoyment was spot-on. Because of my sports celibacy I never saw how that turned out, but I know everyone in a metro area is expected to pony up in some way—often it’s with a grip of tax revenue in some form—or it’s “Off to L.A. with us then!”
The real sticking point is that Los Angeles has been plagued by that dratted stadium issue. The Rams and Raiders unceremoniously ditched the Coliseum, snubbed the Rose Bowl, and abandoned any other plan that kept them from getting precisely what they wanted.
But lo and behold…
Did you know that there is a major Los Angeles area stadium project in the works as we speak? This is not just any old stadium—the rich football-crazy powers-that-be have learned. This is beyond state-of-the-art. Situated about 30 miles east of Los Angeles between Diamond Bar and Walnut, it is a comprehensive commercial development wrapped around a stadium design that features exclusively luxury boxes on the entire upper half of one whole side, stretching from goal line to goal line.
Teams should be salivating at this.
Are the Chiefs?
Let me say right now that I’m not suggesting a thing, except that I want to see the Kansas City Chiefs winning Super Bowls. Note, I want nothing less than the Kansas City Chiefs winning Super Bowls.
But I admit I have my doubts. And my doubts do relate to the market problem. While the draft restrictions and revenue sharing genuinely give the Chiefs their fair shot at winning, I still firmly believe the market thing is detrimental. Players do have a vested financial interest in playing for teams the media decide to showcase more, the best front office people earn a greater measure of respect with a winning environment aided by large-market advantages, and NFL is fine with the those teams getting that wider attention because it does generate more revenue overall.
The added concern for the Chiefs is how much financial capital Hunt will direct toward stadium improvements while the team is left hanging. This leads to that other critically important thing a team owner can do besides tinker with stadium stuff:
He can create, build, and foster a winning environment throughout the entire organization. This doesn’t require as much financial capital as a profound commitment to the vibrant development of human capital. It must course through the owner’s veins so much that it permeates the entire organization, and it is far more about incisive leadership than adept money allocation.
Indeed this is the one single answer to those who’d screech, “What about the small market Pittsburgh Steelers? What about them? They’re always successful!” The reason is simply because in the Rooney family they’ve been blessed with arguably the best ownership situation in all of pro football. It has been so good they have been able to neutralize the effects of their small market status.
Again, the essential element is the kind of top-down leadership that breeds team success. Here’s the question I ask you, really, this is the gazillion dollar question of all questions:
Can Clark Hunt do that?
If the answer is yes—that is: Yes, Clark Hunt’s leadership will breed sustained team success—then what am I saying? Los Angeles—where’s that?
But if the answer is no, he can’t do that… If instead Clark meekly hides behind a milquetoast “hands-off” policy or flails about meddling in things he shouldn’t...
Yeah, I want the Chiefs winning in Kansas City.
I want the Chiefs
—winning—
in Kansas City.
But, ahem—just to ask the question, now, just to ask it…
What if the Chiefs cannot win in Kansas City?
What if Clark Hunt just can’t do that job, some of it from no fault of his own other than he’s just got that smaller market? What if the stadium refurbs end up meaning squat because no one wants to come watch the team anyway? What if Scott Pioli just isn’t getting that talent out there onto the field? What if we continue to be stuck in that long putrid rut so reminiscent of the Chiefs in the 70’s, then the mid-80’s, then the late-90’s to early 00’s, and now again?
To be honest, I shudder at the thought.
I can guarantee you, the NFL will not for two seconds allow whatever Los Angeles team there is to wallow in mediocrity for years upon years. This isn’t even to say there is necessarily any competitive duplicity going on—the market asymmetry already supplies that.
Some thoughts to ponder, that’s all. I know there are many Chiefs fans who’d care nothing about the team if it isn’t in Kansas City—that’s fine. I know there are those who’d want to see the team succeed even if it was in another place such as Los Angeles—there is a certain dysfunctional quality to that sentiment, I will agree.
The dilemma is still bracing.
On the one hand: Chiefs! IN KANSAS CITY! Always losing!
On the other hand: Chiefs! WINNING! But in Los Angeles!
Yes I know there are many who’d say “Why the dilemma? The Chiefs can win in Kansas City!” Yes? No? I don’t know, challenge me. Is it truly possible for the Chiefs to win in Kansas City? Or should we give it up to a situation elsewhere where it will have a better chance of winning? I’m all in for giving Clark a shot at it, I’m with you there! But then, on the other hand… aagh!
What do you think?!
Let me just close with a few last items.
One, we’ll have a new head coach. I’m sorry to see Herm leave, I liked him, I really did. But I also believe the head coach has much less of an impact than the GM who gets the guns for him and the guns themselves out on the field, particularly those crucial linemen on both sides of the ball.
Two, the Carolina Panthers—another small market team—seemed hopeless in 2001 when after winning their first game lost all 15 remaining games in that season. Two years later, they were in the Super Bowl. Hey, at least we won two games this season.
And finally, I just happened to recently catch this really pretty cool thing about our Chiefs. Get this: They have an overall winning record against every other team in their division. Would you know it? Yeah! Against the Broncos, our team is 53-44, against the Chargers they are 50-46-1, and against the Raiders they are 51-44-2.
Come on Clark! We actually have a legacy! Let’s keep it!
_
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
(Part 4)
Past Disconsolations and Future Deconstructions of a Kansas City Chiefs Fan
Size matters.
As in market size, that is.
It seems to me that most people shrug off the idea that larger metropolitan markets offer their teams distinct competitive advantages in professional sports leagues, but as an Economic instructor for twenty years I also know that most people are economically illiterate. I do not say this with any antipathy toward anyone, it is just a fact of life—most people just don’t know enough about basic fundamental economic truths to really understand. Many of them are seasoned sports pundits who make grand pronouncements of what’s really happening economically in professional sports, when they really don’t know. They offer terrific insights as to why a batter is hitting .450 or how well a given linebacker rushes the passer, but when they pontificate about the economics of big-time sports, far too often they just sound foolish.
They’ll frequently put up some numbers, feebly trying to claim that market-size does not matter by pointing at the few small market teams that have occasional success and the few big market teams that don’t have a whole lot of it. “See!” they blab, “Markets don’t matter!”
But they do. The reason is simple. The more revenues an organization can gather from whatever source as a direct result of having more fans, and the more latitude they have to translate that into spending the required amounts of money to hire the best personnel on or off the field, the better advantage the team will have to win games. Just because some big market teams do poorly with this largesse or some small market teams do well with what they have does not obviate that fact.
I have even posited in the past that the game is manipulated to the extent that media-favored teams are given advantages as well. The purpose of this is also elementary: A professional sports league cannot survive with revenues it expects to get if small-market or media-disfavored teams are regularly showing up in championship games.
I will confess that this distinction is much more pronounced in other leagues than the NFL, as a general rule, only because the NFL works industriously to ensure each team has some equal chance of success by strictly regulating player entrance into the league with the draft and significant reserve constraints, and by evenly distributing television revenue among all the teams no matter how big the markets are. A Pittsburgh-Seattle matchup for the whole enchilada, say, would make league execs cringe, therefore you will never see a Pirates-Mariners World Series. You will, on the other hand, occasionally see a Steelers-Seahawks Super Bowl (as we did in 2006).
What does this have to do with the Kansas City Chiefs?
Obviously the answer to the trivia question at the end of the last post is our cherished city. You can look at the post to see the question, or should be able to figure it out just by looking at the following information.
City, Combined Years, NFL Team (Last Playoff Win), MLB Team (Last Playoff Appearance)
Kansas City, 38, Chiefs (1993), Royals (1985)
Cincinnati, 31, Bengals (1990), Reds (1995)
Dallas, 21, Cowboys (1996), Rangers (1999)
Detroit, 19, Lions (1991), Tigers (2006)
Houston, 19, Oilers (1991), Astros (2005),
Pittsburgh, 16, Steelers (2008), Pirates (1992)
Cleveland, 15, Browns (1994), Indians (2007)
Miami, 13, Dolphins (2000), Marlins (2003)
Baltimore, 11, Ravens (2008), Orioles (1997)
San Francisco, 11, 49ers (2002), Giants (2003)
Seattle, 10, Seahawks (2007), Mariners (2000)
Oakland, 8, Raiders (2002), A’s (2006)
Atlanta, 7, Falcons (2004), Braves (2005)
Minneapolis/St. Paul, 6, Vikings (2004), Twins (2006)
New York (1), 6, Jets (2004), Mets (2006)
St. Louis, 6, Rams (2004), Cardinals (2006)
Tampa/St. Petersburg, 6, Buccaneers (2002), Rays (2008)
Denver, 4, Broncos (2005), Rockies (2007)
Chicago, 2, Bears (2006), Cubs and White Sox (2008)
New York (2), 2, Giants (2007), Yankees (2007)
San Diego, 2, Chargers (2008), Padres (2006)
Boston, 1, Patriots (2007), Red Sox (2008)
Milwaukee/Green Bay, 1, Packers (2007), Brewers (2008)
Phoenix, 1, Cardinals (2008), Diamondbacks (2007)
Philadelphia, 0, Eagles (2008), Phillies (2008)
(Just some brief notes: For baseball, mere appearance in the playoffs is considered here because it is harder to get in to begin with and easier to win at least one game in a series. For football, at least one playoff win is considered because it is easier to squeak in but harder to win at least one playoff game. Also, Houston's NFL team is now the Texans, Washington is not on the list because the baseball Nationals have been in D.C. for such a short time, and the New York teams were divided into two pairs.)
With these criteria you can see that Kansas City has a longer combined playoff drought for its baseball and football teams, and what’s so notable is that it is twice as long as every other city except Cincinnati and Dallas.
What do baseball’s Kansas City Royals have to do with any of this?
The Royals were probably the best overall team from the early 1970’s through the 1980’s. Before free agency and other big-market, media-favoring disadvantages eviscerated their competitiveness, they ran a remarkable operation under the leadership of Ewing Kauffman. But as Kauffman aged and had to consider a successor, he insisted on handing the team over to someone who would keep the team in Kansas City.
I won’t say here categorically what’s what regarding who could have bought the team but didn’t because a prospective owner would want to move it from Kansas City, but the fact is since 1993 when Kauffman passed away, the team has been under the thumb of David Glass, and it is no secret that his management has been widely considered to be one of the worst ever in sports history.
I do not disagree that Glass’ ineptitude is greatly responsible for the Royals failure for so many years. But I do honestly believe Glass would never for two seconds have been the owner if Kansas City was a more viable market.
Yes, this breaks my heart. But I just don’t think this is lost on insightful Kansas City fans.
Even Chiefs fans.
The Royals have to do with the Chiefs because, even though the draft and revenue-sharing allow the Chiefs reasonable contention every once in while, the team is still crippled by being in a small market not necessarily favored by the media that generates the league revenues that all teams enjoy.
Please make sure you know what I’m saying here. Kansas City is one of the most awesome places in the world. I am enamored with it any time I visit. It has an endearing quality that goes far beyond its renown as the Midwest railway hub, its spectacular fountains, and its barbeque eateries. It isn’t just lyrics in the song from the classic musical Oklahoma that tell of people traveling from states all around just to be there. It actually happens.
I am not mincing words here. It is not even that I believe these things about Kansas City subjectively, I know it is an objective truth. Funny, I even happened to hear a morning radio talk show guy just the other day say, “I’d never been to Kansas City but it is great! I loved Kansas City! It is a wonderful city!” I did not know the context for which he said that, but it seemed to come out of nowhere. He was about as effusively sincere as I could ever hear one be.
Make no mistake about it, I love Kansas City, I love the Chiefs, and I always will, period.
But it is also true that as much as the NFL portrays itself as the big-market-numbing, insist-on-parity king of the pro sports leagues, it cannot deny that it has had an ace up its sleeve to keep its teams viable in their locations. It has been holding that card up there for 14 years now and it is there exclusively to ensure that markets are able to support their teams for the entire league’s financial profitability. That card is...
Los Angeles.
(Part 5 sorts all this out. Stay tuned.)
_
Past Disconsolations and Future Deconstructions of a Kansas City Chiefs Fan
Size matters.
As in market size, that is.
It seems to me that most people shrug off the idea that larger metropolitan markets offer their teams distinct competitive advantages in professional sports leagues, but as an Economic instructor for twenty years I also know that most people are economically illiterate. I do not say this with any antipathy toward anyone, it is just a fact of life—most people just don’t know enough about basic fundamental economic truths to really understand. Many of them are seasoned sports pundits who make grand pronouncements of what’s really happening economically in professional sports, when they really don’t know. They offer terrific insights as to why a batter is hitting .450 or how well a given linebacker rushes the passer, but when they pontificate about the economics of big-time sports, far too often they just sound foolish.
They’ll frequently put up some numbers, feebly trying to claim that market-size does not matter by pointing at the few small market teams that have occasional success and the few big market teams that don’t have a whole lot of it. “See!” they blab, “Markets don’t matter!”
But they do. The reason is simple. The more revenues an organization can gather from whatever source as a direct result of having more fans, and the more latitude they have to translate that into spending the required amounts of money to hire the best personnel on or off the field, the better advantage the team will have to win games. Just because some big market teams do poorly with this largesse or some small market teams do well with what they have does not obviate that fact.
I have even posited in the past that the game is manipulated to the extent that media-favored teams are given advantages as well. The purpose of this is also elementary: A professional sports league cannot survive with revenues it expects to get if small-market or media-disfavored teams are regularly showing up in championship games.
I will confess that this distinction is much more pronounced in other leagues than the NFL, as a general rule, only because the NFL works industriously to ensure each team has some equal chance of success by strictly regulating player entrance into the league with the draft and significant reserve constraints, and by evenly distributing television revenue among all the teams no matter how big the markets are. A Pittsburgh-Seattle matchup for the whole enchilada, say, would make league execs cringe, therefore you will never see a Pirates-Mariners World Series. You will, on the other hand, occasionally see a Steelers-Seahawks Super Bowl (as we did in 2006).
What does this have to do with the Kansas City Chiefs?
Obviously the answer to the trivia question at the end of the last post is our cherished city. You can look at the post to see the question, or should be able to figure it out just by looking at the following information.
City, Combined Years, NFL Team (Last Playoff Win), MLB Team (Last Playoff Appearance)
Kansas City, 38, Chiefs (1993), Royals (1985)
Cincinnati, 31, Bengals (1990), Reds (1995)
Dallas, 21, Cowboys (1996), Rangers (1999)
Detroit, 19, Lions (1991), Tigers (2006)
Houston, 19, Oilers (1991), Astros (2005),
Pittsburgh, 16, Steelers (2008), Pirates (1992)
Cleveland, 15, Browns (1994), Indians (2007)
Miami, 13, Dolphins (2000), Marlins (2003)
Baltimore, 11, Ravens (2008), Orioles (1997)
San Francisco, 11, 49ers (2002), Giants (2003)
Seattle, 10, Seahawks (2007), Mariners (2000)
Oakland, 8, Raiders (2002), A’s (2006)
Atlanta, 7, Falcons (2004), Braves (2005)
Minneapolis/St. Paul, 6, Vikings (2004), Twins (2006)
New York (1), 6, Jets (2004), Mets (2006)
St. Louis, 6, Rams (2004), Cardinals (2006)
Tampa/St. Petersburg, 6, Buccaneers (2002), Rays (2008)
Denver, 4, Broncos (2005), Rockies (2007)
Chicago, 2, Bears (2006), Cubs and White Sox (2008)
New York (2), 2, Giants (2007), Yankees (2007)
San Diego, 2, Chargers (2008), Padres (2006)
Boston, 1, Patriots (2007), Red Sox (2008)
Milwaukee/Green Bay, 1, Packers (2007), Brewers (2008)
Phoenix, 1, Cardinals (2008), Diamondbacks (2007)
Philadelphia, 0, Eagles (2008), Phillies (2008)
(Just some brief notes: For baseball, mere appearance in the playoffs is considered here because it is harder to get in to begin with and easier to win at least one game in a series. For football, at least one playoff win is considered because it is easier to squeak in but harder to win at least one playoff game. Also, Houston's NFL team is now the Texans, Washington is not on the list because the baseball Nationals have been in D.C. for such a short time, and the New York teams were divided into two pairs.)
With these criteria you can see that Kansas City has a longer combined playoff drought for its baseball and football teams, and what’s so notable is that it is twice as long as every other city except Cincinnati and Dallas.
What do baseball’s Kansas City Royals have to do with any of this?
The Royals were probably the best overall team from the early 1970’s through the 1980’s. Before free agency and other big-market, media-favoring disadvantages eviscerated their competitiveness, they ran a remarkable operation under the leadership of Ewing Kauffman. But as Kauffman aged and had to consider a successor, he insisted on handing the team over to someone who would keep the team in Kansas City.
I won’t say here categorically what’s what regarding who could have bought the team but didn’t because a prospective owner would want to move it from Kansas City, but the fact is since 1993 when Kauffman passed away, the team has been under the thumb of David Glass, and it is no secret that his management has been widely considered to be one of the worst ever in sports history.
I do not disagree that Glass’ ineptitude is greatly responsible for the Royals failure for so many years. But I do honestly believe Glass would never for two seconds have been the owner if Kansas City was a more viable market.
Yes, this breaks my heart. But I just don’t think this is lost on insightful Kansas City fans.
Even Chiefs fans.
The Royals have to do with the Chiefs because, even though the draft and revenue-sharing allow the Chiefs reasonable contention every once in while, the team is still crippled by being in a small market not necessarily favored by the media that generates the league revenues that all teams enjoy.
Please make sure you know what I’m saying here. Kansas City is one of the most awesome places in the world. I am enamored with it any time I visit. It has an endearing quality that goes far beyond its renown as the Midwest railway hub, its spectacular fountains, and its barbeque eateries. It isn’t just lyrics in the song from the classic musical Oklahoma that tell of people traveling from states all around just to be there. It actually happens.
I am not mincing words here. It is not even that I believe these things about Kansas City subjectively, I know it is an objective truth. Funny, I even happened to hear a morning radio talk show guy just the other day say, “I’d never been to Kansas City but it is great! I loved Kansas City! It is a wonderful city!” I did not know the context for which he said that, but it seemed to come out of nowhere. He was about as effusively sincere as I could ever hear one be.
Make no mistake about it, I love Kansas City, I love the Chiefs, and I always will, period.
But it is also true that as much as the NFL portrays itself as the big-market-numbing, insist-on-parity king of the pro sports leagues, it cannot deny that it has had an ace up its sleeve to keep its teams viable in their locations. It has been holding that card up there for 14 years now and it is there exclusively to ensure that markets are able to support their teams for the entire league’s financial profitability. That card is...
Los Angeles.
(Part 5 sorts all this out. Stay tuned.)
_
Sunday, January 18, 2009
(Part 3)
Past Disconsolations and Future Deconstructions of a Kansas City Chiefs Fan
So the Chiefs have a new boss. Scott Pioli. I know almost nothing about him. What I do know about him I know only because my sports radar picks things up from news, random comments from people, those things. Apparently he came from New England, and he was sought after by a number of teams, including the Browns I think.
But that’s it. I don’t know a lick of information about him other than that.
The reason for my blissful ignorance is because of what I’d committed to doing after that fateful Monday night game against Denver. The day after that game…
November 17, 1998.
That was it. That’s the date.
On that day I firmly decided to completely abandon all my attention to any and every major sports thing there was. No more watching or listening to games. No more reading about them in the newspaper. No more gazing at televised replays and accompanying commentary about that touchdown or that homerun. No more starting conversations with others about this or that piddly little sports thing just to see if what they said would give me a teench more confidence about my team’s imminent prospects.
This newly professed sports celibacy was certainly a challenge, but for just over ten years now I’ve done pretty well. It has indeed been rewarding to put away all the fits of rage when my team didn’t do what I think it should have done, all the petty jealousies when some other guy got the trophy, all the selfish ambitions that made me revile other people I don’t even know. And all this from a guy who has never bet a dime on a sporting event.
Yes I’ve gone off the wagon a few times. I have peeked at championship games a couple times—I confess I did enjoy watching KU’s Jayhawks get that clutch NCAA basketball title against Memphis this past year. And I haven’t become a complete sports recluse—if someone else wants to engage me about sports items I’m not going to ferociously shun them from my presence. If my son continues his fine play in organized baseball I’m not going to smugly refuse to follow his progress—in fact I’ve recently softened a bit of my baseball celibacy to join him and do the dad-son thing in cheering on the Angels, a team he has become quite fond of.
I am, however, still firmly committed to staying true because it does help me focus a bit more on what’s important. Not that rooting for my team isn’t, and this is why in 2003 I decided to allow myself one simple sports indulgence. Yes, you know what it was:
Follow my Kansas City Chiefs once again.
I picked a fine year to do it. We started 9-0 that year, with Trent Green slinging the ball beautifully and Dante Hall zipping in and out of special teams coverages for eye-popping scores. It was fun. While the years following haven’t been as spectacular, I’ve actually enjoyed doing precisely what I committed to do, and that is to just watch the games.
Still, no newspapers, no web-surfing for every Chiefs nibble, no nothing except tuning in each Sunday from 12 noon to 3 central. Yes, I know during those three hours I can’t help but absorb all manner of Chiefs information from the marvelous to the abominable, but, whatever.
In the middle of the 2005 season I started to make this Chiefs thing more vibrant by starting a blog with this novel perspective as its theme. All I would do is comment on what I got from those three hours. Nothing else would color my commentary, even though I do admit some of it will contain that static I pick up with my sports radar—it’s just impossible to shut that damn thing off. I do also allow myself to research events and information from previous years, which is why I can include some historical context.
So now we’re back to the present and our brand-spankin’ new GM Scott Pioli of whom I know little and respectfully hope to keep that way (I think I did know far too much about Carl Peterson).
This whole dynamic relates to why I go to great lengths now to avoid all the static. If I scour the web and find every thing about Pioli there is to know, I’ll discover one of two things, or both. Before I get to those things you must know this.
I once also followed the 49ers like a madman, since I spent much of my upbringing in the Bay Area. I don’t think you can get two opposite ends of the GM spectrum as you can between Joe Thomas, who in 1978 practically destroyed the team, and his successor Bill Walsh, who is canonized for almost single-handedly reinventing the passing game, possessing one of the most phenomenal eyes for talent the league has ever seen, and making the Niners the most dominant team in the NFL for years and years.
So I could look at Pioli and (1) see traces of Joe Thomas—even if there are none but I’m just obsessively looking for them—which will only depress me. Or I could look at him and (2) see traces of Bill Walsh, at which point my elation will be so high that when Pioli doesn’t win us the next 57 straight Super Bowls all I can feel is, yes, depression.
Oh, so then nothing but depression results from my completely uncharitable voyeurism of this fine new football executive we have? Therefore, what’s the point.
My concern goes much deeper, and it has to do with some things I’d been thinking about for some time. They are ruminations much more far-reaching than whatever it is our new GM can do for my beloved pro football team in Kansas City, and I want to share them here in this blog.
But that is for next time. For now, here is a trivia question, some chewing tobaccee for your mind: Which city with a major league team and an NFL team (there are 24 of them in the U.S.) has the second longest drought without a playoff appearance by the baseball team and a playoff win by the football team? Answer: The second (note: the second) longest drought is Cincinnati at a combined 31 years, the Reds having last been in the National League playoffs in 1995 and the Bengals last earning an NFL postseason win in 1990. The third longest is 21 years, by the way (Dallas, if you can believe it--the Cowboys haven't won a playoff game since 1996).
Now, ahem, can you possibly guess which city has the longest drought? And do you know how long that has been? Hint: the Harry S. Truman Sports Complex is a quite barren place in October and January.
(Part 4 is next. We've done the past as pretext for the future, now for those deconstructions...)
_
Past Disconsolations and Future Deconstructions of a Kansas City Chiefs Fan
So the Chiefs have a new boss. Scott Pioli. I know almost nothing about him. What I do know about him I know only because my sports radar picks things up from news, random comments from people, those things. Apparently he came from New England, and he was sought after by a number of teams, including the Browns I think.
But that’s it. I don’t know a lick of information about him other than that.
The reason for my blissful ignorance is because of what I’d committed to doing after that fateful Monday night game against Denver. The day after that game…
November 17, 1998.
That was it. That’s the date.
On that day I firmly decided to completely abandon all my attention to any and every major sports thing there was. No more watching or listening to games. No more reading about them in the newspaper. No more gazing at televised replays and accompanying commentary about that touchdown or that homerun. No more starting conversations with others about this or that piddly little sports thing just to see if what they said would give me a teench more confidence about my team’s imminent prospects.
This newly professed sports celibacy was certainly a challenge, but for just over ten years now I’ve done pretty well. It has indeed been rewarding to put away all the fits of rage when my team didn’t do what I think it should have done, all the petty jealousies when some other guy got the trophy, all the selfish ambitions that made me revile other people I don’t even know. And all this from a guy who has never bet a dime on a sporting event.
Yes I’ve gone off the wagon a few times. I have peeked at championship games a couple times—I confess I did enjoy watching KU’s Jayhawks get that clutch NCAA basketball title against Memphis this past year. And I haven’t become a complete sports recluse—if someone else wants to engage me about sports items I’m not going to ferociously shun them from my presence. If my son continues his fine play in organized baseball I’m not going to smugly refuse to follow his progress—in fact I’ve recently softened a bit of my baseball celibacy to join him and do the dad-son thing in cheering on the Angels, a team he has become quite fond of.
I am, however, still firmly committed to staying true because it does help me focus a bit more on what’s important. Not that rooting for my team isn’t, and this is why in 2003 I decided to allow myself one simple sports indulgence. Yes, you know what it was:
Follow my Kansas City Chiefs once again.
I picked a fine year to do it. We started 9-0 that year, with Trent Green slinging the ball beautifully and Dante Hall zipping in and out of special teams coverages for eye-popping scores. It was fun. While the years following haven’t been as spectacular, I’ve actually enjoyed doing precisely what I committed to do, and that is to just watch the games.
Still, no newspapers, no web-surfing for every Chiefs nibble, no nothing except tuning in each Sunday from 12 noon to 3 central. Yes, I know during those three hours I can’t help but absorb all manner of Chiefs information from the marvelous to the abominable, but, whatever.
In the middle of the 2005 season I started to make this Chiefs thing more vibrant by starting a blog with this novel perspective as its theme. All I would do is comment on what I got from those three hours. Nothing else would color my commentary, even though I do admit some of it will contain that static I pick up with my sports radar—it’s just impossible to shut that damn thing off. I do also allow myself to research events and information from previous years, which is why I can include some historical context.
So now we’re back to the present and our brand-spankin’ new GM Scott Pioli of whom I know little and respectfully hope to keep that way (I think I did know far too much about Carl Peterson).
This whole dynamic relates to why I go to great lengths now to avoid all the static. If I scour the web and find every thing about Pioli there is to know, I’ll discover one of two things, or both. Before I get to those things you must know this.
I once also followed the 49ers like a madman, since I spent much of my upbringing in the Bay Area. I don’t think you can get two opposite ends of the GM spectrum as you can between Joe Thomas, who in 1978 practically destroyed the team, and his successor Bill Walsh, who is canonized for almost single-handedly reinventing the passing game, possessing one of the most phenomenal eyes for talent the league has ever seen, and making the Niners the most dominant team in the NFL for years and years.
So I could look at Pioli and (1) see traces of Joe Thomas—even if there are none but I’m just obsessively looking for them—which will only depress me. Or I could look at him and (2) see traces of Bill Walsh, at which point my elation will be so high that when Pioli doesn’t win us the next 57 straight Super Bowls all I can feel is, yes, depression.
Oh, so then nothing but depression results from my completely uncharitable voyeurism of this fine new football executive we have? Therefore, what’s the point.
My concern goes much deeper, and it has to do with some things I’d been thinking about for some time. They are ruminations much more far-reaching than whatever it is our new GM can do for my beloved pro football team in Kansas City, and I want to share them here in this blog.
But that is for next time. For now, here is a trivia question, some chewing tobaccee for your mind: Which city with a major league team and an NFL team (there are 24 of them in the U.S.) has the second longest drought without a playoff appearance by the baseball team and a playoff win by the football team? Answer: The second (note: the second) longest drought is Cincinnati at a combined 31 years, the Reds having last been in the National League playoffs in 1995 and the Bengals last earning an NFL postseason win in 1990. The third longest is 21 years, by the way (Dallas, if you can believe it--the Cowboys haven't won a playoff game since 1996).
Now, ahem, can you possibly guess which city has the longest drought? And do you know how long that has been? Hint: the Harry S. Truman Sports Complex is a quite barren place in October and January.
(Part 4 is next. We've done the past as pretext for the future, now for those deconstructions...)
_
Thursday, January 15, 2009
(Part 2)
Past Disconsolations and Future Deconstructions of a Kansas City Chiefs Fan
I must confess I am one of the worst losers I know. You’d know because of how gracious I appear when losing. That may not seem to make sense, but ever since I was shredded by some personal events as a child and I put all my emotional eggs in my sports teams basket, I realized I’d alienate just about everyone if I didn’t learn to manage those feelings.
It may have been best then that the 1970’s were a terrible dry spell for the Chiefs, and that I’d pretty much resigned myself to Chiefs ineptitude. But surprise! In the fall of 1981 I was paying little attention to the NFL when I discovered my team was actually winning games! And they were winning enough to be in real contention. This splendid feeling dissolved as the season waned and they couldn’t hold it, but they ended up 9-7 and captured our hearts.
I followed the Bill Kenney years with eager hope, fondly remembering a Thursday night nationally televised game in which he took apart the Raiders. Joy! And when we drafted Todd Blackledge I was sure he would be the guy to lead us to the promised land, after all, he was the second quarterback picked after John Elway in that 1983 superstar quarterback draft.
1986 would see us genuinely contend again and three spectacular special teams touchdowns against Pittsburgh in the last game of the season would usher us in the playoffs for the first time since that 1971 Christmas day game. The problem was Blackledge had been playing far less spectacularly than we’d all hoped he would. All those years we were hoping against hope he'd get it, but he just never ever could read defenses. The playoff game against the Jets would finally show that he was just not the guy, and our special teams excellence would prove our undoing as it would encourage the hiring of the special teams coach Frank Gansz to run the whole team. I’d always thought Jack Steadman couldn’t run a football team, and this ridiculous move was the topper of them all, yet another symptom of the front office bungling that had doomed the Chiefs to mediocrity for nearly twenty years.
As bad as it was, one of the most extraordinary experiences I’d ever been blessed to enjoy occurred during the awful strike-marred season to follow. After spending time visiting family in Topeka, my uncle in Kansas City offered me the opportunity to use one of his season tickets to come to Arrowhead the day before I was scheduled to fly out. The Chiefs were at home to play the Jets and I wasn’t going to miss this chance. It was the only time I’d ever been to Arrowhead.
It was a rainy drizzly day and the Chiefs were starting third-string quarterback Frank Seurer, and bless him, the little guy played his heart out. Jets back Freeman McNeil ran all over us gaining 184 yards, but we still made it competitive losing by only a touchdown. Just soaking it all in, beholding my team in the very distinctive temple of all things Chiefs, getting to see the magnificent Christian Okoye rumble up and down the field, sitting right there close to the action at around the fifty yard-line with my fellow impassioned Chiefs-rooting uncle and cousin—it was nothing but a transcendent experience.
Still, the discouragement continued until 1988 when the bright light of day streamed in. The Chiefs seemed to get it in gear and brought on board Carl Peterson and Marty Schottenheimer to run things. No Chiefs fan was capable of restraining their glee at this uncharacteristically radical move by Chiefs ownership, handing the team to two proven winners to really, actually, truly get the Chiefs into the upper echelon of NFL contention. Their efforts culminated in 1993 when the Joe Montana-led team played in the AFC Championship Game for a chance to get into the Super Bowl.
Even though we lost that game to the Bills, every Chiefs fan had every reason to believe that the rest of the 1990’s would be ours. Hope not only sprang eternal but was bursting out of all of our red and gold pores.
Thing is, the playoff game to get us to Buffalo, the win against Houston, would be to this point 15 years later the last playoff game we’d ever win.
What followed through the rest of the 1990’s was a series of some of the worst, most horrific clutch losses any team can sustain, much more a phenomenally talented team like the one the Chiefs put on the field. There is no question Marty Schottenheimer had a lifelong playoff curse against him, really. He was a rotten postseason coach, but even that cannot explain the abysmally bad luck his teams have had in the playoffs—just witness what happened with his Browns and Chargers teams.
1998 was the year that the Chiefs simply put me out of my misery, precisely because it was so miserable. It started with extraordinarily high hopes that we’d finally get deep into the playoffs. A 13-3 record assured us home-field advantage throughout and we had an impenetrable defense, yet sure enough we had Marty calling the shots. We weren’t helped by a number of other silly things that gave Denver the critical edge they needed to eek out a win in the divisional playoff game. I spent the entire time shaking my head, and I think my head would’ve fallen off my neck if the game had gone on any longer.
In the summer my hopes were sky-high as we picked up some key defensive players. I remember one of them was Chester McGlockton, and I thought we are definitely going to the Super Bowl that year. I was even more stoked when we took care of the Raiders with ease to open the season on a Sunday night and continue to win 4 of our first 5. Finally! Smooth sailing to dominance in the NFL.
Then the losing began. First it was to New England, and I remember being abjectly bewildered as to how we could be getting so thoroughly pasted. Then we dropped another game, then another, then yet another. It reached a head on Monday night against Denver when I was going bananas wondering how the bleeding was going to stop. This had to be it—we weren’t this bad a team and the game was at Arrowhead.
I was driving home from work, flying down the freeway so I could catch the game on television, but it didn’t matter. I was in a state of catatonic numbness listening on the radio as Bubby Brister—little second-string quarterback Bubby Stinkin’ Brister—run for a 38-yard touchdown. I was completely flummoxed as to how on earth that could be allowed to happen, of course not watching it I just couldn’t imagine, and to this day I don’t know and don’t want to know.
Yeah, it didn’t matter. We ended up getting clobbered, and I knew at that moment that I just had to do it. I just had to. My insides were just completely chewed up. There was nothing left there.
I had to give it up, let it go.
(Part 3 next time will address what precisely this meant. Stay tuned.)
_
Past Disconsolations and Future Deconstructions of a Kansas City Chiefs Fan
I must confess I am one of the worst losers I know. You’d know because of how gracious I appear when losing. That may not seem to make sense, but ever since I was shredded by some personal events as a child and I put all my emotional eggs in my sports teams basket, I realized I’d alienate just about everyone if I didn’t learn to manage those feelings.
It may have been best then that the 1970’s were a terrible dry spell for the Chiefs, and that I’d pretty much resigned myself to Chiefs ineptitude. But surprise! In the fall of 1981 I was paying little attention to the NFL when I discovered my team was actually winning games! And they were winning enough to be in real contention. This splendid feeling dissolved as the season waned and they couldn’t hold it, but they ended up 9-7 and captured our hearts.
I followed the Bill Kenney years with eager hope, fondly remembering a Thursday night nationally televised game in which he took apart the Raiders. Joy! And when we drafted Todd Blackledge I was sure he would be the guy to lead us to the promised land, after all, he was the second quarterback picked after John Elway in that 1983 superstar quarterback draft.
1986 would see us genuinely contend again and three spectacular special teams touchdowns against Pittsburgh in the last game of the season would usher us in the playoffs for the first time since that 1971 Christmas day game. The problem was Blackledge had been playing far less spectacularly than we’d all hoped he would. All those years we were hoping against hope he'd get it, but he just never ever could read defenses. The playoff game against the Jets would finally show that he was just not the guy, and our special teams excellence would prove our undoing as it would encourage the hiring of the special teams coach Frank Gansz to run the whole team. I’d always thought Jack Steadman couldn’t run a football team, and this ridiculous move was the topper of them all, yet another symptom of the front office bungling that had doomed the Chiefs to mediocrity for nearly twenty years.
As bad as it was, one of the most extraordinary experiences I’d ever been blessed to enjoy occurred during the awful strike-marred season to follow. After spending time visiting family in Topeka, my uncle in Kansas City offered me the opportunity to use one of his season tickets to come to Arrowhead the day before I was scheduled to fly out. The Chiefs were at home to play the Jets and I wasn’t going to miss this chance. It was the only time I’d ever been to Arrowhead.
It was a rainy drizzly day and the Chiefs were starting third-string quarterback Frank Seurer, and bless him, the little guy played his heart out. Jets back Freeman McNeil ran all over us gaining 184 yards, but we still made it competitive losing by only a touchdown. Just soaking it all in, beholding my team in the very distinctive temple of all things Chiefs, getting to see the magnificent Christian Okoye rumble up and down the field, sitting right there close to the action at around the fifty yard-line with my fellow impassioned Chiefs-rooting uncle and cousin—it was nothing but a transcendent experience.
Still, the discouragement continued until 1988 when the bright light of day streamed in. The Chiefs seemed to get it in gear and brought on board Carl Peterson and Marty Schottenheimer to run things. No Chiefs fan was capable of restraining their glee at this uncharacteristically radical move by Chiefs ownership, handing the team to two proven winners to really, actually, truly get the Chiefs into the upper echelon of NFL contention. Their efforts culminated in 1993 when the Joe Montana-led team played in the AFC Championship Game for a chance to get into the Super Bowl.
Even though we lost that game to the Bills, every Chiefs fan had every reason to believe that the rest of the 1990’s would be ours. Hope not only sprang eternal but was bursting out of all of our red and gold pores.
Thing is, the playoff game to get us to Buffalo, the win against Houston, would be to this point 15 years later the last playoff game we’d ever win.
What followed through the rest of the 1990’s was a series of some of the worst, most horrific clutch losses any team can sustain, much more a phenomenally talented team like the one the Chiefs put on the field. There is no question Marty Schottenheimer had a lifelong playoff curse against him, really. He was a rotten postseason coach, but even that cannot explain the abysmally bad luck his teams have had in the playoffs—just witness what happened with his Browns and Chargers teams.
1998 was the year that the Chiefs simply put me out of my misery, precisely because it was so miserable. It started with extraordinarily high hopes that we’d finally get deep into the playoffs. A 13-3 record assured us home-field advantage throughout and we had an impenetrable defense, yet sure enough we had Marty calling the shots. We weren’t helped by a number of other silly things that gave Denver the critical edge they needed to eek out a win in the divisional playoff game. I spent the entire time shaking my head, and I think my head would’ve fallen off my neck if the game had gone on any longer.
In the summer my hopes were sky-high as we picked up some key defensive players. I remember one of them was Chester McGlockton, and I thought we are definitely going to the Super Bowl that year. I was even more stoked when we took care of the Raiders with ease to open the season on a Sunday night and continue to win 4 of our first 5. Finally! Smooth sailing to dominance in the NFL.
Then the losing began. First it was to New England, and I remember being abjectly bewildered as to how we could be getting so thoroughly pasted. Then we dropped another game, then another, then yet another. It reached a head on Monday night against Denver when I was going bananas wondering how the bleeding was going to stop. This had to be it—we weren’t this bad a team and the game was at Arrowhead.
I was driving home from work, flying down the freeway so I could catch the game on television, but it didn’t matter. I was in a state of catatonic numbness listening on the radio as Bubby Brister—little second-string quarterback Bubby Stinkin’ Brister—run for a 38-yard touchdown. I was completely flummoxed as to how on earth that could be allowed to happen, of course not watching it I just couldn’t imagine, and to this day I don’t know and don’t want to know.
Yeah, it didn’t matter. We ended up getting clobbered, and I knew at that moment that I just had to do it. I just had to. My insides were just completely chewed up. There was nothing left there.
I had to give it up, let it go.
(Part 3 next time will address what precisely this meant. Stay tuned.)
_
Saturday, January 10, 2009
(Part 1)
Past Disconsolations and Future Deconstructions of a Kansas City Chiefs Fan
This is a critical time in the destiny of the Kansas City Chiefs football franchise, and I wanted to take some time to expand a bit on this humble blog I’ve been doing now for about three-plus years. I’d like to share a bit about my own history with the Chiefs, provide some context for this blog’s approach, and share some visceral thoughts about what I see is going on with the widest overall picture in mind. I’d like to simply include this in installments as I proceed.
I was born in Manhattan, Kansas, where my dad was going to school (Kansas State) and serving in the National Guard (Fort Riley). Seeking a promising business opportunity provided by his uncle, he took our family to California when I was two.
I started paying attention to professional sports in 1971 when my father took me to my first professional sports affair, a bright summer day game featuring the major league baseball Giants and the Cardinals at Candlestick Park. I was overwhelmed by the glory and pageantry of a live sporting event at such a magnificent venue. Hey, Candlestick was state-of-the-art in those days.
Earlier in that year I remember being out in the front yard with my dad and all his tools and handyman equipment. He was working on one of his wonderful home improvement projects, and on the radio was Super Bowl V between the Colts and Cowboys. I’d really known nothing about any team, and I was rooting for the Cowboys for no reason other than having a rooting interest. I recalled it was hard to know who was doing what because the quarterbacks were named Morrall and Morton.
The following season the Kansas City Chiefs were in the playoffs again with a very strong team, playing at home against the upstart Miami Dolphins. Every Christmas afternoon we’d go to the very spacious Los Gatos home of the same uncle who inspired our move out here, and I remember peeking frequently at the game on television. As a ten year-old I was busy bopping about with cousins and such, but I did watch enough of the game to appreciate this team and its play. Ed Podolak will always be one of my heroes for his phenomenal game that day -- I distinctly remember standing there watching him take that punt in the second overtime and zoom down the far sideline deep into Miami territory to get us into easy game-winning field goal range. Well…
Every Chiefs fan knows the outcome of this affair. As I was so young, it would not have the heartbreaking effect later Chiefs playoff catastrophes would have. But this team that was cheered on by my close Kansas City family was forever most prominent in my heart as my favorite professional sports team of them all.
(Part 2 is forthcoming, featuring my Arrowhead stadium experience...)
_
Past Disconsolations and Future Deconstructions of a Kansas City Chiefs Fan
This is a critical time in the destiny of the Kansas City Chiefs football franchise, and I wanted to take some time to expand a bit on this humble blog I’ve been doing now for about three-plus years. I’d like to share a bit about my own history with the Chiefs, provide some context for this blog’s approach, and share some visceral thoughts about what I see is going on with the widest overall picture in mind. I’d like to simply include this in installments as I proceed.
I was born in Manhattan, Kansas, where my dad was going to school (Kansas State) and serving in the National Guard (Fort Riley). Seeking a promising business opportunity provided by his uncle, he took our family to California when I was two.
I started paying attention to professional sports in 1971 when my father took me to my first professional sports affair, a bright summer day game featuring the major league baseball Giants and the Cardinals at Candlestick Park. I was overwhelmed by the glory and pageantry of a live sporting event at such a magnificent venue. Hey, Candlestick was state-of-the-art in those days.
Earlier in that year I remember being out in the front yard with my dad and all his tools and handyman equipment. He was working on one of his wonderful home improvement projects, and on the radio was Super Bowl V between the Colts and Cowboys. I’d really known nothing about any team, and I was rooting for the Cowboys for no reason other than having a rooting interest. I recalled it was hard to know who was doing what because the quarterbacks were named Morrall and Morton.
The following season the Kansas City Chiefs were in the playoffs again with a very strong team, playing at home against the upstart Miami Dolphins. Every Christmas afternoon we’d go to the very spacious Los Gatos home of the same uncle who inspired our move out here, and I remember peeking frequently at the game on television. As a ten year-old I was busy bopping about with cousins and such, but I did watch enough of the game to appreciate this team and its play. Ed Podolak will always be one of my heroes for his phenomenal game that day -- I distinctly remember standing there watching him take that punt in the second overtime and zoom down the far sideline deep into Miami territory to get us into easy game-winning field goal range. Well…
Every Chiefs fan knows the outcome of this affair. As I was so young, it would not have the heartbreaking effect later Chiefs playoff catastrophes would have. But this team that was cheered on by my close Kansas City family was forever most prominent in my heart as my favorite professional sports team of them all.
(Part 2 is forthcoming, featuring my Arrowhead stadium experience...)
_
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